The Roguish Miss Penn (9 page)

He strolled along the walk, peering into each door, wondering what business they might have here. Of course it might be something to do with the play, he supposed. Then he halted as he caught a glimpse of the two young people in the dim recesses of an inn.

Katherine spoke with a devilishly handsome man. Not that Ramsey considered those angelic blonds with sad dark eyes to be an example of masculine perfection. But he understood some ladies did. He entered the inn, making his way to the rear.

“Good day, again, Miss Penn, Theodore.”

Teddy’s flashing eyes forgave Lord Ramsey the slip, but also cautioned him against repeating the error of calling Teddy by his given name. It was bad enough for a fellow to look like a poet without having a die-away name to boot.

“What a surprise,” murmured Katherine, noting how Lord Ramsey put the hero completely into the shade. Blond good looks could not compare with his lordship’s aristocratic grace, not to mention dark locks and warm gray eyes. Even Lord Ramsey’s physique was superior. Katherine fleetingly wondered what it might be like to be clasped in those arms as her hero would be required to hold the heroine.

“Ought you be here?” Lord Ramsey gestured to the surroundings, which admittedly were not of high quality.

She tilted her nose in the air ever so slightly, giving Lord Ramsey a look that she hoped conveyed there were limits to what controls he might exercise over her, even if he were sponsoring their theatrical efforts.

“We were just going into a room at the back for more privacy. I have a copy of the script with me. This gentleman was about to read a few lines for us,” she said with a nice flair of speech.

Ramsey shrugged, then with a wave of his hand indicated they proceed—with himself for company.

Katherine had been afraid he would accompany them. She wondered if all playwrights had this difficulty with the backers of their productions. If he interfered, it would be terribly difficult to deny him his say. Katherine feared she was not as resolute as she ought to be.

“Gisela read your play,” he said in an undertone.

“So soon?” Katherine paused to glance at his face.

“She enjoyed it very much. At least I think so. She giggled so much it was difficult to tell.”

Katherine compressed her mouth, fighting back a grin. “If our audience feels the same, we are made.”

“Have you mentioned this to your father as yet?”

“No, and please do not tell me that as a good daughter I ought to inform him what I am doing. You have some influence with the university. Can you not convince someone that there will be no harm, at least in our production?”

“I fear that my connection had best be kept silent.”

“Oh, dear.” Katherine frowned, causing Ninian Denham to stop his reading. “Nothing to do with you, Mr. Denham. Please continue.” To Lord Ramsey she whispered, “Let us hope we can keep Melly quiet—for your sake as well as ours.”

When the handsome young actor completed his reading of the requested lines, Katherine applauded. “Fine, fine.”

Her brother looked at Lord Ramsey, who reluctantly nodded his agreement. Although Mr. Denham proved to be an excellent actor, Philip had mixed emotions about his working closely with Katherine for any time at all.

“The part is yours, Mr. Denham,” Katherine said with pleasure. “Keep the script. If my brother succeeds in his endeavor, you shall have a very good actress to play against. Until she arrives, I shall take her part.”

“Miss Penn, do you think that wise?” Lord Ramsey objected. She turned to face him, her hands clenched at her sides. “If we obtain Miss O’Neill, we cannot afford to pay her salary for weeks on end, even were she free to come. She has commitments, I am sure. I know all the lines and how I want Mr. Denham to play the part.”

“Dash it all, Kitty, I thought I was to direct the play.” Teddy gave her a look that bordered on pouting.

Katherine wondered what she had done to deserve Teddy, Lord Ramsey, and Melly, each bent on having his or her own way. Turning to Mr. Denham, she suggested they meet soon to rehearse.

“Why do you not use the theater at Fairfax Hall, Miss Penn? That way few, if any, will hear of it.”  He looked immensely pleased with himself, thought Katherine as she considered his offer.

“Fine,” she replied, showing her reluctance a little. She set a time, then watched the actor depart.

“Who or what is Melly?” Lord Ramsey demanded once the door was closed.

It was Teddy who chose to answer. “She’s a friend who has learned about the play. Amelia Bonner is not only a peagoose, but she’s a prattle box to boot.”

“And you fear her?”

“I had to agree that she can work on the costumes out at Fairfax Hall, my lord. It seems the halls hold a fascination for her.”

“I suspect she wants to meet you and your sister as well,” grumbled Teddy with strong resentment at the silly young woman who had pushed her way into his and his sister’s project. “I warn you, her mother is the greatest gossip in town.”

A rap on the door brought a surprising response. Outside the door several people Katherine knew performed in the annual Sturbridge productions stood waiting to enter the small room where Mr. Denham had read.

“Auditions?” a pert young miss said.

“For an ogre of a count and a serving maid.” Katherine laughed. She had kept her cast of characters short, knowing full well that paying a large number of actors might be a strain. Even with Lord Ramsey aboard, she did not wish to change anything.

Before the afternoon was out, the cast was complete. Katherine, Teddy, and Lord Ramsey strolled from the inn after appeasing the landlord by buying a round of ale for all involved.

“Miss Penn, I cannot like you being so closely involved in the rehearsals,” Lord Ramsey declared—rather piously, Katherine thought.

Looking at him, she could see he was greatly displeased. “Cousin Sophia has volunteered to assist. She will play chaperone.”

“Only play? I think I had best be around as well.” He smiled down at her with the expression of one who has just won a round of play in a hotly contested game.

“You leave Amelia and Gisela alone to mend costumes?” Katherine darted a smug glance at him, to be met with a cool stare that quite disconcerted her.

“I trust Gisela can handle Miss Bonner.”

“You act as though you do not trust me with Mr. Denham, sir.” Katherine was annoyed, even as she knew it most likely improper for her to be working with Mr. Denham. “I assure you that merely because he is an extremely handsome man does not affect me in the least. I shall play my part as though he were a brother.” While her voice remained admirably calm, shaking only a trifle, she seethed inside. How dare he take over her life, or imply that she might foolishly tumble into an infatuation with an actor.

“Well, I best be off early in the morning,” Teddy said out of the blue. He had not been paying attention to the tense conversation between his sister and Lord Ramsey. Rather, he stood deep in thought regarding his trip to Norwich and the coming interview with Miss O’Neill.

“You wish to go alone?” Lord Ramsey inquired, seeming to indicate he might be willing to accompany Teddy.

Katherine was torn between suggesting that Lord Ramsey go along with Teddy, thus hurting her brother’s feelings, and the alternative of having his lordship looking over her shoulder. She remained silent, not wishing to dishearten her brother.

“By Jove, yes. You know, Kitty, I might not be back by Sunday. Sorry to miss services and all, but that’s how it is.” Teddy looked excessively smug.

Katherine longed to punch him in the arm, but standing on one of the busier streets in Cambridge was not the place to do so. “I am persuaded that you selected the time well, from your point of view, at least.” She said nothing more, loyalty to her father preventing her from warning Lord Ramsey what she feared they were in for on Sunday.

“Oh, Katherine,” came a fluting voice from across the way. The three turned, with Teddy excusing himself immediately on a vague pretext. Since Amelia didn’t want to see him anyway, she was only mildly vexed to see him dash off.

“Amelia Bonner, Lord Ramsey,” Katherine said in an undertone. “The one we must placate.”

Lord Ramsey’s lips twitched slightly at the dry inflection in Katherine’s voice. A devilish twinkle crept into his eyes and he gave Katherine an amused glance before facing the beautiful young woman who approached.

“Ah, Miss Bonner.” He bowed low over the beauty’s hand, smiling into those limpid eyes with a nicety of manners. “You do us honor. Miss Penn and I were just discussing the coming days. Do say you will join us. Perhaps we might begin this Sunday? Divine services, then dinner?”

Katherine almost choked. Melly made a point of attending the service where the most young men were sure to be present. She would not enjoy hearing Mr. Penn speak in the least, for the undergraduates were sure not to be there.

‘I would be honored,” she declaimed in the grandest of manners. She tossed a victorious smile at Katherine before departing their company some minutes later.

* * * *

Friday proved to be one of those days Katherine would rather forget. Melly made herself agreeable, but proceeded to take over the mending of the costumes in an officious manner that set everyone’s teeth on edge in short order.

Mrs. Cheney found every excuse in the world to absent herself from the saloon where the women worked. Mostly she went to the library to check on Mr. Penn with the flimsiest of pretexts. Katherine envied her the talent of making those excuses sound exceedingly reasonable. But, then, Melly was so content to be at Fairfax Hall helping dear Mrs. Cheney that Katherine doubted if she paid any true attention to them.

In truth, Katherine was pleased that Mrs. Cheney and her father seemed to get along so very well. They had a brief chat during nuncheon discussing a topic of mutual interest. Katherine kept busy keeping Melly away from them, but thought they enjoyed it excessively, which was more than she might say for dealing with Miss Amelia Bonner.

* * * *

On Sunday Amelia and Mrs. Bonner joined Katherine and Cousin Sophia at divine services in the little church not far from the gates of Fairfax Hall. A short parade of children filled the front pew.

Lord Ramsey and Mrs. Cheney moved forward to greet the visitors. Mrs. Cheney explained thus, “I teach a Sunday school every week, you see. Poor little things know not how to read or write. The older children attend the charity school in the village.” The kind expression in her eyes clearly revealed the depth of her compassion for the tots. “I am hoping we can find a teacher for them so they can learn all week, some woman of good reputation.”

The organist began the prelude and there was no further conversation.

The sermon proved as dreary as Katherine feared. Her father seemed to feel he preached at a group of students, for he used the longest words and most incomprehensible allusions to be found. She stifled a sigh. Glancing at Lord Ramsey, she noted his eyes appeared glazed, and she felt pity for him. Mrs. Cheney looked angry, which Katherine thought an unusual reaction to a boring sermon. At her side, Cousin Sophia appeared to doze.

They assembled at Fairfax Hall following the close of service. During a most agreeable dinner, the subject of the sermon was neatly avoided by an alert Katherine and Cousin Sophia, who had been cautioned earlier.

Amelia and her mother expressed their delight at being included in the gathering. Indeed, Amelia chattered on like the worst of magpies. Her performance of the day before was surpassed, in Katherine’s estimation. Lord Ramsey wore an expression of great forbearance.

Mrs. Cheney stayed strangely silent during the meal. Katherine attributed her quiet to either a reluctance to participate or a dislike of the toadying Mrs. Bonner. Usually Gisela was a delightful companion, and her conversation charming. Katherine noted that Melly had not been invited to the informality of using Gisela’s first name. Her observation soothed her somewhat.

Upon conclusion of the excellent meal, the group strolled out to the saloon, Mrs. Bonner exclaiming over the splendid view of the Gothic Tower. Amelia appeared to be mentally cataloging the contents of the room. Katherine found her separation from Lord Ramsey gratifying. She still nursed her ire at his behavior while in town.

Katherine sensed her father awaited praise for his fine words at church, for he dropped one or two subtle hints. Lord Ramsey obliged.

“Interesting sermon, Mr. Penn. I do not recall ever hearing that topic put quite that way before.”

Before Mr. Penn could reply, Gisela spoke. “And I hope you never do again, dear brother.” Her eyes flashing, she rounded upon Katherine’s father. Although her voice was controlled, her words were not. “And just who were you trying to reach with your fine, high-sounding words today? Farmer Jones? The Widow Dabney? Or perhaps Mr. Willowby and his good wife, who barely know how to read their alphabet? What word of the gospel was in that sermon to touch their hearts, pray tell?” she lashed at the astounded man. “People showed their taste rather than their piety. Not a few fell asleep; most fortunate people they were, too.”

“Madam,” he began, with an appealing glance at Lord Ramsey.

“I am not finished, if you please.” Mrs. Cheney placed a deterring hand on Mr. Penn’s arm. “When Jonah attempted to evade the call of the Lord, it must have had a meaning for us all. I did not hear a clue from you, sir. Not a syllable did you reveal of God’s purpose for Jonah, nor the lesson to be learned from him. I heard a lot of nonsensical rhetoric that might sound fine in a classroom, although I do not see how you keep from boring the students to death. I was heartily bored myself.” Her eyes flashed her scorn, but she still did not permit a defense from Mr. Penn.

“The Lord called a man, who then resisted him,” she stated in her lovely voice, now fervent with emotion. “Jonah needed to be taught a lesson. He was. He learned his salvation comes from the Lord, and so he was told to preach to the Ninevites. He did, and the people repented of their sins and were spared. Do you think one soul was brought to knowledge of the truth from your words today, sir? Could you not have just talked to the people, simply told them the needful as you might to a friend?”