Katie Rose (5 page)

“I misplaced the invitation,” Penelope said with a sigh, sending the startled Jennifer a sharp look. “I tossed it out with a bunch of uninteresting cards. I feel terrible about it, for we so would have loved to attend.”

“I’m certain the Barrymores wouldn’t mind in the least if you accompanied us,” Jane said, obviously delighted
at the prospect. “Everyone is talking about you and would love to see you again.”

“Are you certain?” Penelope asked demurely. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any inconvenience.”

“Nonsense! I’ll send the carriage for you. We can all go together. It will be a great party. We look forward to it.”

Jane echoed her sister’s nod. Penelope stood, and Jennifer instantly did the same. “Thank you. We shall consider doing just that. We really must be going, though. Thank you for the invitation to tea, and please feel free to call on us soon at Twin Gables.” Penelope smiled sweetly. “We can show you the séance room.”

The sisters looked entranced. “I suppose you have many other engagements today. We certainly shall call on you. And please, make sure you attend our summer lawn fête. Mother puts so much work into it. Absolutely everyone will be there!”

Outside, Penelope and Jennifer walked as quickly as they dared around the corner, not stopping until they were well past the twitching curtains. They hugged each other, laughing so gleefully that tears streamed down their faces.

“Success! Why, Penny, you’re a hit! We can go to the Barrymores’ party, in a carriage, no less! We’ll be able to parlay this visit into dozens of invitations! And mentioning the séance room—that was sheer genius!”

Penelope let Jennifer hug her, but she was pleased for an entirely different reason. The Billings were keys to a world she desperately wanted to enter. And she, Penelope Appleton, had just unlocked that door.

Her happiness disappeared a moment later as another thought occurred. Penelope’s smile faded, and the brightness of the previous moment was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked.

“We can’t go to the party,” Penelope said, her voice choked with tears.

“Why ever not?” Jennifer asked impatiently. “We can
go with the Billings, you heard them offer. And the Barrymores would never remember—”

“We don’t have anything appropriate to wear,” Penelope interrupted, bringing her handkerchief to her nose. “You saw the Billings. Their dresses must have cost a small fortune.”

“We have our good Sunday muslins,” Jennifer said practically. “Yours is very nice, and the blue color suits you wonderfully—”

Penelope shook her head, the tears sparkling against her cheeks. “It won’t do. They would spot us for frauds in a minute. No, unless we have decent costumes, we can’t consider going. It would harm our cause more than do us good to show up like paupers.”

Jennifer frowned thoughtfully. This was an obstacle neither of them had considered. An idea dawned and she turned slowly to Penelope. “We could … I mean, we really have no other choice.”

“What?” Penelope cried impatiently.

“In the attic, we have that old trunk full of dresses. We always said someday—”

“You mean Mother’s things,” Penelope breathed, shocked.

Jennifer nodded. “She would want this, Penny. You know she would. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“But it’s so … morbid!” Penelope gasped, pressing her hands to her lips.

“I know. I don’t like it either, but I can’t come up with anything better. Can you?”

Penelope fought the guilt that swept over her. Jennifer was right—their mother would have wanted this. They had been saving her dresses for a special occasion, such as when one of them wed, but Penelope saw all too clearly that unless they were accepted into society, weddings
weren’t likely to occur. The time for sentiment had passed. She squared her shoulders and nodded.

“I’ll get Aunt Eve to help me. The dresses were designed for hoops, so we’ll have to alter them, but the material is all first quality. By the time we attend the party, the Appletons will look just as good as anyone. You’ll see.”

“I can’t believe they won’t do anything! What good is a police force if it won’t stand up to three young women?”

Charles Howe chuckled as Gabriel paced the floor, his normally unruffled composure at this moment extremely ruffled. He was seated in Gabriel’s immaculate office; every book was in place, every vase perfect, down to a row of letters on his desk carefully positioned so each letterhead could be easily read at a glance. Gabriel himself looked as if he didn’t belong. His shirt was not tucked into his trousers properly, his jacket was askew, and a crimson flush washed his face.

“It’s not that they won’t stand up to them,” Charles said, enjoying himself immensely. “The police chief has known Jennifer and her family for years. He heard about her parents’ untimely death, and the subsequent orphan state of the three girls. Naturally his sympathies are with Jennifer.”

“Charles.” Gabriel turned a furious look on his friend. “The woman is a menace. She cheated my mother out of her money with some ridiculous séance! And when I confronted her, she had the audacity to imply that I had neglected my own mother!”

“I see.” Charles nodded, well aware of Gabriel’s guilt where his mother was concerned. “What was the girl like?”

“Nothing like what I expected,” Gabriel admitted, sinking down into a chair in exasperation. “I pictured a
lowborn female, even a gypsy dressed in rags. Instead, she’s remarkably pretty. In fact, her sister Penelope is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Charles asked drolly. “You do remember that you and
my
sister have … an understanding?”

Gabriel scowled at him, observing the way Charles’s shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed mirth. “That’s not funny. The other one is bookish, and while Jennifer isn’t a beauty, there is something about her. What she is, surprisingly enough, is a lady. I didn’t expect that.”

“I see. So what exactly did the police say?”

“They put me in the back room, insisting I was drunk. I think they also thought me a Peeping Tom, for they accosted me outside Jennifer’s window. Do you believe that! I ought to sue them for character assault!”

“And what
were
you doing outside her window?” Charles asked blandly.

“I was—” Gabriel attempted to explain, but felt his own face getting hot once more. He heard Charles laugh, and shot him an unappreciative look. “Believe me, the last thing I have in mind is romancing Jennifer. What I want to do is stop her, scare the hell out of her. Are you certain we have no legal recourse?”

“As your lawyer, I can advise you that we certainly have recourse, especially if you can prove that she swindled your mother. By the way, how much money are we talking about?”

“One hundred dollars.”

Charles blinked. “One hundred dollars? Your legal fees may run more than that!”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Gabriel insisted. “And I don’t want her continuing this, with my mother or anyone else.”

“I see,” Charles said, hiding a grin. “And do you have proof that she actually took advantage of your mother?”

“My mother paid her to contact the dead, which she believes happened!” Gabriel said hotly. “What more proof do you need?”

“Well, we do have a problem. Your mother doesn’t seem to be complaining. In fact, no one is except you.” Charles held up his hand to forestall Gabriel’s protests. “That doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. What I will do immediately is write her a letter on my stationery. That should put her off, if she’s like most women. They’re frightened to death of anything legal. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go from there.”

Gabriel lifted a frustrated face, and Charles laughed. “Don’t worry, Gabe. We’ll take your Miss Appleton in hand. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Where are you going? To see Elizabeth?” Gabriel asked as Charles picked up his stick.

“No. I’m going out to dine, then I’m returning to my offices,” Charles said with a wry grin. “A threatening letter to three charming ladies will take all of my concentration, I’m afraid. The Appleton sisters should receive it by Thursday at the latest. Is that soon enough?”

Gabriel smiled, his relief evident. “Nothing can be too soon for me. I want this woman stopped, Charles. No matter what it takes.”

“What is this?” It was Thursday when Jennifer picked up the letter that was lying on a silver dish. The creamy Eton stationery and elegant hand sent a slight shiver up her spine. “Charles Howe, Attorney-at-Law” was inscribed into the left-hand corner. It was obviously a missive of some importance, and she was instantly filled with dread. She sliced the envelope with her letter opener, and as she read the document, the color drained from her face. “Winifred, could you take a look at this?”

Winifred, who had been seated on the floor amid her
books, pushed back her spectacles and took the missive. She stood up, coming closer to the light, examining the watermark, and the elegant handwriting.

“What is it?”

“A letter from Gabriel’s attorney. It says if we don’t stop what we’re doing, they will put us in jail! Winnie, can they do that?”

“I told you that man was no good,” Aunt Eve sniffed. “Storming into a young lady’s home without so much as a calling card! To think, trying to punish you girls for your little dramas! Why, they would have to jail every household in the city, for all young women are so engaged!”

“Oh, no!” Penelope cried, putting down the bonnet she was stitching. “We’re ruined!”

“Hush,” Winifred waved her hand impatiently as she scanned the document. The sisters watched her closely, and even Aunt Eve was silent. Winifred’s lip curled in distaste as she took in the letterhead and the indignant signature. She scowled as she began the missive, guessing its intent before she was midway through. Yet her expression, bookish and intense, lightened line by line, and by the time she reached the end of the document, seemed almost merry. She folded the letter and grinned at her sisters with satisfaction.

“What? What is it?” Jennifer asked.

“Why, this is the least interesting piece of fiction I’ve ever read.” Winifred chuckled, a sound so unusual that even the parrot squawked.

“Fiction! But it’s from the law firm of Charles Howe. He is one of the most important attorneys in the city,” Jennifer cried.

“Yes, but nothing he says has any real basis in the law.” As her sisters looked at her in confusion, Winifred sighed. “You see, he obviously wrote this letter as a favor to Gabriel, thinking we were a lot of dull misses who wouldn’t understand the terminology. Unfortunately for him, I’ve done extensive
reading of legal briefs, so his language doesn’t intimidate me. Moreover, what he doesn’t say, and what is obvious, is that Mary Forester hasn’t complained—only her son.” As the trio still stared in puzzlement, Winifred threw up her hands.

“He hasn’t a leg to stand on.”

Jennifer’s worried expression dissolved, and she joined Winifred in laughter. When their chuckles died, Jennifer wiped her eyes.

“I suppose he never counted on the Appletons having their own private legal counsel,” Jennifer said with a grin. “So, Attorney Winifred, what is our course of action?”

Winifred, obviously pleased to be able to practice her skills, peered at the letter thoughtfully. “We have several means at our disposal. We can ignore the letter.”

“That would be the most proper,” Eve said wisely. “A lady never acknowledges an insult, but just pretends she didn’t understand.”

“But then they will think we are frightened,” Jennifer said.

“That is true,” Winifred agreed. “It is the cowardly way out, but probably the safest. As your lawyer, I must advise you of all of your options. The other thing we can do is reply, and perhaps point out the areas of weakness in the document. That might quell Mr. Howe, for he obviously doesn’t expect such a response. But it might also show him that he isn’t dealing with fools.”

“He’s liable to get angry,” Jennifer mused. “Men, from what I observe, don’t like to be proven wrong.”

“And they tend to shrink from women they view as superiors,” Aunt Eve added. “Why, in
Titcomb’s Letters to Young People, Single and Married
, he makes just such a point.” She eyed her three unmarried nieces with worry.

“Still, I think it our best response.” Winifred took off her spectacles and nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t see either man as one willing to stop with a letter. If we ignore
it and continue, they are liable to keep threatening. Both men have considerable status, and might eventually wear down a judge. No, I think cutting this off at the bud would serve us best.”

“And, it may incite Gabriel once more.” Jennifer chuckled, catching Penelope’s eye. “He might even have to come here again, to let us know how unhappy he is. Wouldn’t that be a shame!”

The three girls burst into laughter. Aunt Eve looked at her niece sharply. “You aren’t encouraging that man, are you?”

“Why, no,” Jennifer said innocently. “I’m simply enjoying the thought of his discomfiture.” Feeling her aunt’s eyes on her, Jennifer turned quickly to her sister.

“So what, Attorney Winifred, will you do?”

Winifred shrugged, her intelligent gaze gleaming with anticipation. “I shall reply to Mr. Howe’s letter, and simply point out the error of his ways. As a fellow attorney, he cannot possibly miss my intention, nor misunderstand the position he is in. He is, after all, threatening three unprotected young women without cause. I’ve heard enough about Charles Howe to know that his legal reputation is extremely important to him. No matter what favors he owes Gabriel, he will not jeopardize his own career for another man’s battle.”

She sank down at her desk and picked up her pen with a flourish. Gabriel Forester would not succeed in his attempt to frighten them. Jennifer had worked too hard to find them a means of survival. And she, Winifred, would call on every ounce of her intelligence to fight back. It was a challenge that she looked forward to.

Gabriel was enjoying a rare game of billiards when Charles Howe stormed into his club. The door slammed behind him, and he sent Gabriel’s partner a look
of such intensity that the young man immediately put his cue stick aside.