The Bach hymn she had played before rolled forth with magnificent pomp. Other equally polite music followed, the sort no one might take exception to in the least.
“You play for others, but not for yourself this evening, is that it?” Lord Ramsey queried in that soft rich tone he used when trying not to be overheard.
Katherine flashed him a look of feigned surprise. “I seldom have the luxury of playing for myself, sir.” She glanced at her father and Mrs. Cheney. Cousin Sophia she discounted, as that lady approved the uninhibited sound that flowed when Katherine played her own music. Said it reminded her of the ocean.
“I see.” He considered her a moment, then assisted her from the piano when she concluded a final piece. To Cousin Sophia, he remarked, “I want to show Katherine what I have done toward our joint effort.” The look he gave her was significant, and since Cousin Sophia was anything but a slow-top, she merely smiled and nodded.
Unwilling to interrupt her father and Gisela, who sat in what appeared to be harmonious conversation, Katherine left the room with Lord Ramsey.
Minutes later found them entering the theater. They walked along toward the stage. Light from the branch of candles in Lord Ramsey’s hand sent flickering shadows dancing over the murals, making the figures on the walls seem almost alive.
Katherine shivered. Her thin muslin, which had seemed quite appropriate for a dinner at Fairfax Hall, was not the proper item for prowling about the deserted theater.
“Here, hold the candles while I find you a shawl. I know there is one around here somewhere. Since we managed to stave off a cold, it would be the height of foolishness to risk it again.”
Katherine accepted the candelabrum, standing where he pointed while he hunted about in a large box. He fished out a lovely length of heavy silk and draped it about her shoulders with a flourish.
“Thank you,” murmured a subdued Katherine.
He gave her a dissatisfied look, then crossed the stage to the wings. Katherine watched him, mystified by his silence.
In moments a creaking sound like that of a wheel being turned accompanied the appearance of the first scene, the woodland where the fair Belinda was to be attracted to, then abducted by, the villain. It was astonishingly simple in execution, yet effective for all that.
“You see, the actors can be at the side, yet not seen by the audience until the right moment.”
“What a splendid invention, sir. Far better than any I have seen in all these years. But,” she wondered, “can this be set up in the crude theater at the fair? We shan’t have the facilities there that you have here.”
“Not to worry. My head carpenter feels he can manage the matter with no problem.”
“How much does he know?” She gave him a suspicious look, hoping this escapade was not to filter through the town and thus reach her father’s ears in time for him to put a stop to it.
“He knows to keep his tongue between his teeth. He values his job far too much to be a gabble-monger."
“I would never have you turn him off because of this.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “You cannot have it both ways, Katherine. If you are a bit soft, they will take advantage of you.
"I expect you are right,” she muttered, her face downcast while she felt rather stupid. Fancy telling his lordship how to manage his estate.
He crossed to her side in moments, tilting her chin up and looking into her eyes as revealed in the flickering light. He took the candelabrum from her and set it on a nearby table. “Katherine. .
There was promise in that whisper. She searched his eyes, for what she didn’t know. They were shadowed and she could tell little from what she could make out. But it was something that made her heart beat far too fast and her palms feel clammy. How lovely to hear her name on his lips once again.
He touched her mouth with his, a much-too-fleeting yet warm touch that revealed a hint of the promise in his words. Katherine felt bereft when he drew back to look at her. She felt his hands clasp her shoulders, pulling her toward him. Was this what she wanted? Would his opinion of her be confirmed? She remembered that gleam in his eyes when he had interrupted her dressing the day of the rain.
“Philip?” She wanted to feel his arms about her, she realized with a shock. Most of all, she desired the touch of his mouth again, and this time for not so brief a spell.
“Well,” came the matter-of-fact voice of Cousin Sophia as she advanced upon the stage.
Katherine listened to the faint curse that escaped from Philip and wondered what might have happened had Cousin Sophia not taken it upon herself to follow them. Why had she waited so long? And why enter just now?
‘Are you testing the scenery to discover if it will add to the mood?” The older woman clambered up on the stage with surprising agility. “I should say you have done very well. ‘Tis a spot conducive to young love, I vow.” She looked about her at the woodland set, then wandered back to where the wheel that worked the scenery was located. “Hmm, this is a fancy bit of invention.”
“Your Cousin Sophia is an amazing woman.” Philip’s comment was spoken in a not-altogether-complimentary tone.
“Yes, she is. I can only be grateful that she undertakes to look after me when she would rather be elsewhere. I suspect I must find myself a home one of these days so she can be free of me.”
“A home?” He gave her a startled look, then turned to study Cousin Sophia. “Is there someone in mind?” He would know Katherine could not setup her own establishment. “Or do you intend to put on a cap and do for your father?”
"I am not past praying for, sir. There are difficulties, you see,’ she snapped back, just as though Mr. Weekes had spoken with her and the details remained to be ironed out between her father and the fellow.
Lord Ramsey’s laugh disconcerted her. She flounced to the stairs, marching down them with firm steps.
“You approve of the scenery, I take it,” he said with a mocking bow.
Katherine refused to be outdone by him. She curtsied low and elegantly. “Was there any doubt, sir? I feel certain you have solved all problems. Your sketches are splendid. What more can I say?” She waited, hands on her hips, feeling like the shrew he once thought her to be.
He sauntered toward the edge of the stage to where the equipment for raising and lowering the oil lamps used to illumine the stage was housed. Neatly avoiding the footlight board, he bowed to her. “Such flattery, my dear Katherine. If only your actors can do the scenery justice, I shall be happy.”
Caught up short, Katherine became sober, dropping her hands and advancing to where he stood above her. “About the actors. It will not be long before they must rehearse together, both my play and the comedy. May we continue to use this stage?” She waited for him to blast her for her impudence.
“All of them?” He laughed. “By all means. Bring the lot next you come. The weeks are short and I would see them know their parts well.” He jumped from the stage, apparently forgetting about Cousin Sophia, who was still pottering about the rear of the stage behind them.
“Fine,” Katherine murmured, relieved he would make no fuss, although she could simply not understand why he grinned at her in that odious manner.
“I wonder if your brother is having any success in luring the lovely Miss O’Neill to our production.” He spoke in that odd drawl she had heard before, one she didn’t like in the least.
“It depends,” Katherine replied with spirit, “on how much money he can dangle before her. There are some women who regard that as prime motivation.”
“And how do you feel, my lovely Kate?” Philip advanced upon her again, is hand reaching out to lightly caress her cheek.
“Money?” She trembled at his touch. “It helps to provide food and a roof over one’s head, does it not?” Deciding it was time she be practical, she turned away from him and walked toward the door. “Coming, Cousin Sophia?” Philip could see to the candles.
At the door, she waited for her chaperone to join her. Sophia clumped down the stairs and marched up the aisle to where Katherine stood in silence, trying not to watch Lord Ramsey.
“Thought I’d see if you needed me. You did,” Cousin Sophia said as they walked through the hall.
“What are Mrs. Cheney and Papa thinking by now?” The dismay she felt rang in her voice.
“They were deep in a discussion about Jonah when I left. I suspected I’d not be missed.”
Philip caught up with them as they entered the small drawing room, taking note of the pleasant picture his sister made with the older gentleman. She was animated, flushed with pleasure, and quite obviously having the time of her life.
“It is late, Papa. We had best head for home,” reminded Katherine gently, for she hated to interrupt this agreeable conversation after all that had happened.
“We can talk again, madam,” Mr. Penn said, bowing nicely to his hostess. “I confess I have enjoyed myself prodigiously, in spite of our few disagreements.”
Katherine exchanged a worried look, first with Cousin Sophia, then with Philip.
“Well, I expect it is rather unusual for a woman to presume to argue with so learned a gentleman.” Gisela glanced up at Mr. Penn, fluttering her eyelashes in a demure manner.
“You will come again to use the library?” Lord Ramsey inquired in his more lofty way.
“I should be delighted.” Mr. Penn looked as though he were contemplating something quite different than dusty tomes, however.
Cousin Sophia tugged at his arm, drawing Mr. Penn toward the entrance hall. Katherine followed. She handed the borrowed shawl to Philip, along with a provocative look.
Kendall assisted Katherine into her pelisse. Within a very few minutes the three Penns were back in the carriage and on their way home, farewells floating on the cool August evening air.
* * * *
Far off in Norwich young Theodore Penn relaxed at the White Swan. He had found it was where the Norwich Company had established their headquarters, and it had proven a most convenient place to get access to Miss O’Neill while the company paused here on their tour.
Not that he did more than speak with her. Her dragon of a father constantly hovered about her, never allowing her a moment to herself, it seemed. It was dashed odd. For Teddy had heard all these stories about actresses, how free and easy they were with their favors. Miss O’Neill was as prim and proper as a dowager duchess of the ton.
However, to listen to the actors reciting their lines, arguing over interpretations, was first-rate entertainment, a heady experience for him. He strolled about, watching the scenes being painted, flats refurbished for the coming productions. The company would also set up during Sturbridge Fair in competition with Teddy.
Of course, he remained quiet about his intentions as best he might. He found it distinctly interesting to discover what the opposition expected to offer. He had heard that Miss O’Neill was to earn a prodigious, amount per week at Covent Garden the coming season when she parted ways with the Norwich Company.
London actors viewed the freedom offered during the fair with enthusiasm. For the provincial players it provided attractions they seldom experienced in any other of the circuit towns they traveled through.
Teddy hoped Miss O’Neill—and her father—could be persuaded to join his effort. It might take another day or two, for it proved dashed slow work. But he reflected he had never had so wondrous a time in his life, and he didn’t mind the delay at all. If only he succeeded.
Chapter 8
“You are a silly goose, Gabriel,” Katherine sang to her pet the following morning. It was a beautiful day and she felt wonderful. Wisps of clouds brushed across the cerulean sky. In the garden the apricot tree espaliered against the brick wall drooped, weighted with fruit. Soon she must pick it and help Cook to preserve it for the winter. Gabriel left off nibbling at the weeds among the annuals and waddled close to where Katherine sat at the edge of her flower bed.
Across the river Katherine could see masses of goldenrod and harebells, meadowsweet, and tall spikes of purple loosestrife. She thought nature’s garden superior to her own efforts. But, then, she had Gabriel to assist in her work, which was definitely a mixed blessing.
She permitted the goose to place his head on her lap, a rare sign of affection. He settled down and Katherine continued to gaze at the scene across the river while her thoughts took her elsewhere.
Several days had passed since the dinner at Fairfax Hall. Her father had resumed his Visits, although somewhat curtailed in length. He never mentioned what he did, but Katherine was satisfied that he went.
She continued rehearsing with Ninian Denham, assuming the role of Belinda in place of Miss O’Neill. Of Philip little was seen. He had popped in to watch Katherine in a scene with Mr. Denham, then left. He gave no clue to his feelings, his face a bland mask, she thought with asperity. Odious man. In the ensuing days she had not forgotten for an hour the feelings he stirred in her. How it shook her to realize that she was so susceptible to a kiss.
The arrival of her brother so early in the morning was a surprise. “Teddy, you are up betimes this morn.” She shifted, thus disturbing Gabriel, who took off in a huff.
“Dash it all, Kitty, good days like this are few at this time of year. Lord Ramsey has invited me out to see the progress he is making with the flats. He has a design for the theater booth as well.” Teddy leaned up against the copper beech, watching as Katherine weeded her bed of annuals, now in full bloom.
“Thank goodness you managed to convince Miss O’Neill to perform with us. We shall need the money to compensate Lord Ramsey for all he does. Or ought I say his head carpenter?” she added with a touch of irony.
‘Tis Ramsey who is the brains. He’s devilishly clever, Kitty. Think of all the devices he has dreamed up for our production. Let me tell you, the Norwich Company would like to get their hands on what he’s done. Clever, clever man.”
“I am sure you are right,” she murmured, thinking his lordship was too clever for his own good. Katherine managed to contain the annoyance she felt. She had not been invited to view the flats, nor anything else, for that matter. The woodland set still stood in place on the stage where they practiced. She wondered about the sumptuous scenery for the final act, where the hero would climb through the window to rescue the hapless Belinda. Good grief, but that character was a widgeon. Katherine could only hope that Miss O’Neill could breathe some sympathy into her.