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Authors: Emily Hendrickson

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BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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“For a charming lady,” he said with a deal of gallantry.

“You ought not,” Katherine began, trying to conceal how she longed to possess such a lovely item.

“Fiddle,” interrupted Gisela. “It does him good to buy a pretty now and again.”

Taking the hint, Philip proceeded to pay for the delicate lace fan that Gisela had chosen. It seemed to set Katherine at ease, and for that he was thankful he had his sister along, even though she was a costly baggage, what with wanting everything in sight.

“You are no better than a child,” he chided. “What will you take a fancy to next, I wonder?”

“Look, Philip! Some enterprising man has set up an archery range.” Gisela tugged his arm, leading him toward the end of the side row near the open field. From this spot Philip could see the rear of the theater.

“Small wonder,” added Katherine, crossing to watch a young gentleman from the university take aim at a butt. “It seems one of the favorite pastimes here for the students, along with billiards, hunting, driving tandems, and cockfights, all of which are banned, although they pay little heed to that.”

“And bathing?” Philip inquired with an innocent air.

 Her cheeks flamed. “Also banned. They give as much attention to the prohibition of that as to any of the other pleasures they enjoy.”

Gisela watched the archery competition with a critical eye while Katherine turned away to look at the theater. “I believe I shall go over to check on things, sir.”

“I’ll come along.” Philip was feeling a bit foolish with his insistence upon Katherine never being alone, but once he had begun, there was no leaving off until the fair was concluded and she was still safe.

“Very well,” she replied with good grace. After all, she reasoned, if she was given the treat of Lord Ramsey’s company, ought she not enjoy it?

They began to traverse the cornfield, Katherine carefully picking her way through the stubble. Suddenly she stumbled, grabbing hold of Lord Ramsey’s arm as she nearly fell.

At the same moment an arrow whished past Philip, directly over Katherine’s head, and about where her heart would have been had she not half-fallen.

She straightened up, turning her head to apologize for clutching at him, then stopped in her tracks. “What is it?” Lord Ramsey looked grim, not to mention exceedingly pale.

“Look ahead of us and tell me what you see.”

“An arrow. The man back there has a great pile of them; I doubt if he will miss it overmuch.”

“Katherine, that arrow was deliberately sent your way with intent to do great harm, if not kill.” They moved forward to stand near the missile. “Look at it. ‘Tis not an ordinary arrow. ‘Tis a hunting arrow, the sharp metal point of which could pierce a body with ease. Had you not stumbled and nearly fallen, I have no doubt I would now be holding you in my arms, and you would either be dead or near enough so as not to make a difference.”

She swallowed with care, then swayed as she considered his words. This was not imagination. Philip had seen this with his own eyes. “I cannot believe it. Why?” She turned trusting eyes up to him, her fear clearly visible.

He put a protective arm about her while searching the throng of young men about the archery booth. Drawing her closer, he murmured into her hair, “There is no telling who it might have been. Far too many are clustered over there to know which one sent the arrow ‘astray.’ Best stay by my side, for what little good it does you.” He felt bitterly inadequate as a protector. She would have been hit but for that stumble on a bit of stubble.

Gisela bustled up to them, her eyes wide with inquiry at the sight of Katherine trembling in Philip’s arms.

“Come,” he ordered. “We had best get somewhere safer.”

“Safer?” Gisela echoed in alarm.

He kicked the arrow with the toe of his Hessian. “This deadly little missile was intended for Katherine.” Bending down, he picked up the arrow, studying it for a clue to ownership. Nothing was visible.

“Good grief,” whispered Gisela, glancing about while following Philip and Katherine into the theater with cautious haste.

Once safe within the building, Katherine settled onto a chair, her legs being quite unequal to the task of supporting her any longer. “Now what do we do?”

“Go home,” suggested Gisela. “I shall stay with you every hour.”

“Not leave your company, for certain,” Philip added.

Katherine shook her head. “That is not practical, you know. You are very kind to desire to protect me, but have you given thought to how long this may continue? I could grow old while waiting for this would-be killer to strike once again.” She propped her chin on her fist, staring off to the rear of the theater. “I think I had best go on as usual. Whoever it is will be bound to reveal himself . . . or herself, ere long.”

Philip and Gisela exchanged uncomfortable looks. They had discovered how stubborn Katherine could be, given a position she firmly believed correct.

“I would not keep you from watching the opening of your play this evening,” Philip said slowly.

Katherine popped up from the chair, her anger prompting her energy. “I should hope not. I do appreciate all you have done and are doing. But this, this madness cannot control my life.”

Gisela nodded thoughtfully. “I can see what you mean. But how can we keep this from happening again?”

“It is never the same. I must say, whoever it may be is an inventive person,” Philip mused, escorting Katherine and Gisela to the door of the theater. “Let us get some tea, or something of the sort.” They bustled off in the direction of the coffee house on Hatters’ Row. On the way they encountered a familiar trio.

“Katherine, Lord Ramsey, and Mrs. Cheney! How charming to see you here,” Amelia Bonner cooed while clinging to Mr. Weekes. She had several parcels and a happy face that told Katherine all was going well with Amelia’s plan. What that was could be easily guessed. Sidney Exton stood close by, his eyes watchful.

“Cousin Katherine, have you seen your brother this morning?” Sidney stepped up to the group, his brow furrowed with obvious concern.

Katherine darted a worried glance at Gisela, then to Lord Ramsey. “I fear I have not. When did you last see him?”

“Yesterday evening, I believe.” He glanced about, then continued. “I suspect he’ll show up later in time to assist with the play.”

“Play?” Mr. Weekes said, looking confused but sharply alert. His thin nose tilted upward at the mere notion of the theater.

Katherine rushed in to explain. “You know how Teddy adores doing odd things. He is helping with the play this evening. Indeed, we paused to see if he might be here.”

Amelia looked smugly skeptical while Mr. Weekes gave Katherine a puzzled glance.

Katherine studied the two, then quietly suggested, “We are on our way for a cup of tea. I vow, shopping is a tiresome, although delightful pastime. Would you join us?”

“Lovely,” breathed Amelia while tugging on her escort’s arm. “What a pity you have not had my luck in shopping,” she continued, tossing Katherine a superior smile.

“I had no idea he was such a stuffed shirt,” whispered Gisela as they trailed after the couple. “Fancy her wanting him.”

“Indeed,” echoed Katherine, wondering how she had thought him a worthy husband not too many weeks ago.

Philip leaned over to say quietly, “If we stick close to friends, there will be less chance for the villain to get at Kate. Agreed?”

Katherine nodded reluctantly. It bothered her a little to see Amelia Bonner clinging to Mr. Weekes. That might have been herself, had she not permitted delusions to lure her mind and eyes elsewhere. She wound her way past the gingerbread sellers who had set up in front of the theater to stroll with the others down Garlic Row. At Hatters’ Row they turned off to find the very respectable coffee house. Katherine allowed herself to be guided to a table neatly covered in green baize.

Amelia gave Mrs. Cheney a considering smile, then graciously explained, “This place is kept by the proprietor of the finest coffee house in Cambridge. You need have no fear of paltry refreshments here.”

Katherine exchanged a guarded look with Gisela. What else might she have to fear? Sidney spoke to the young woman tending the tables and shortly they were served with a variety of beverages, tasty pastries, and fruit pies.

“These ought to be fine,” Philip said close to her ear. “Not to worry.”

Nevertheless, she picked at her fruit pie, although it tasted ever so good. The knowledge that someone was out to harm her, fatally if possible, was rather off-putting.

“I suggest we all stay together,” Philip said, keeping a close watch on Amelia. While he doubted the young woman responsible, poison was considered a woman’s choice, and she seemed to delight in sniping at Katherine. He had missed none of the sly little digs sent that direction. Were they alone, what might happen?

“I trust you will join me now in a sampling of the oysters, Cousin Katherine?” Sidney said as they ambled from the coffee house after a leisurely repast.

“Silly,” replied his cousin, a grin touching one corner of her attractive mouth. “I am much too full now. Perhaps later?”

“I shall hold you to that,” Sidney replied, all amiability.

Amelia seemed not to be content with snaring the eligible Mr. Weekes, for she sidled close to Sidney, tucking her arm in his when she stumbled on a little stone. She presented a pretty picture, arm in arm with the two men.

Katherine was amused and shared a warm look with Lord Ramsey. “What would she do on the stubble?” Katherine wondered aloud, secure that Amelia couldn’t possibly hear what she said with all the din about them.

“True,” Philip replied thoughtfully. Amelia Bonner could scarcely draw the bow sufficiently to send the arrow a foot, much less a distance. His gaze shifted to the ubiquitous Cousin Sidney. What did anyone actually know about him? He was always around, agreeable, and seemed fond of Katherine. But a close watch of her face revealed she treated him much as she did her brother.

Had he ambitions in her direction? Philip suspected that Katherine was unaware of them, or at least did not encourage them. The knowledge comforted.

“Ho there.” Teddy bounded up to the group, his face eager and happy. “Splendid day. Jolly good merchandise this year. Did you purchase the Tea Rose scent for Cousin Sophia? When I stopped at home, she said to remind you.”

“Done,” Katherine replied with a relieved look at her brother. The thought had occurred to her that if someone wanted her out of the way, they might well want Teddy disposed of as well. “Do stay with us, Teddy. ‘Tis much nicer with a party.”

He seemed taken by the suggestion and strolled along, urging his sister to buy this and that with little success.

Philip, seeing the wistful looks and the frequent negative shake of Katherine’s head, began to understand better why she had bought so little at the fair. Evidently her father was generous with his son, but felt his daughter ought to be satisfied with little or nothing. It was not an uncommon attitude, but it gave Philip the desire to shower Katherine with lovely gifts. That pair of soft York tan gloves she admired, for one, and the green-and-blue paisley shawl that would look well with her honey-blond hair for another. There were many things he longed to do.

The rub was, would he get to do them?

 

Chapter 14

 

They left the fair in good time so that they could have a light luncheon, for that was all Katherine might have managed under even the best of circumstances.

“I feel quite safe here,” Katherine said as she strolled about the grounds of Fairfax Hall with Philip, Gisela, and Cousin Sophia. Hector trotted along near his master while keeping a quizzical eye on Katherine. Sidney and Teddy were due to arrive shortly—Teddy with a surprise, so he claimed.

“Good, good.” Philip could not have been more pleased. He wanted her to feel safe and comfortable at his home. It made the trip to the theater no less hazardous, however. When one had no notion as to when the villain might strike, it filled each hour with tension.

Gisela undertook to show Cousin Sophia a particularly lovely bed of China asters in full bloom. They discussed the problems of needlework as well in amiable concern. Gisela quite understood the vexations of matching wools.

Katherine and Philip strolled toward the Gothic Tower. The grass had been well-clipped, the pond was clear and free of weeds now. Katherine recalled her plunge into the cold water, with the subsequent sodden dress and green spots that dotted her person when she emerged. “You laughed at me.”

“What? When? I would never do anything so unkind.” His eyes twinkled down at her with those interesting lights deep within them.

“The day we met by this pond. I believe you said I had a terminal case of the green measles, whatever that might be.” She flashed him an indignant look.

“Imaginary, my dear. Forgive me for my abysmal sense of humor. But I wasn’t laughing at you. I was delighted at this lovely creature who reacted so calmly to a situation that would have had most women in spasms, or at least mild hysterics. You have not failed to charm me from that moment on.” His voice seemed to caress her.

Katherine gave him a disbelieving glance. She thought his tribute mere flummery. Did she appeal to him? It was a lovely notion to warm one’s heart. He was practiced in the art of dalliance; she was not. That placed her at a great disadvantage, yet she took comfort that he sought her out and wished to protect her.

In companionable silence they climbed to the top of the knoll upon which the tower was built, Hector running circles about them. Constructed of brick and rubble and faced with clunch, it rose up for three ragged stories. The walls were pierced with two-light windows and cross-shaped embrasures. Katherine decided it appeared to better advantage from a distance. Hector flopped down, energy flagging.

She turned to look back at the house. It was an impressive sight, with the gardens and the ponds, which had a pretty Chinese bridge spanning them, the expanse of green lawn up to the magnificent house itself. What a silly fool she was to entertain for even a moment the idea that she might wed this man and share this lovely home with him. He could have most anyone in the country if he so chose.

BOOK: The Roguish Miss Penn
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