The Roguish Miss Penn by Emily Hendrickson Page B

degree.
    Amelia’s smile grew a bit thin as she studied Katherine as though to see if that bland smile concealed malice heretofore unnoticed. Brightening, she continued. “Tell me everything.”
    “He sent a lovely carriage,” Cousin Sophia offered in her dry, papery voice. “Teddy quite envied them as he had no chance to drive behind those grays.”
    “And?” Amelia begged, her eyes as round as buttons.
    “Mrs. Cheney served a delicious tea, with those tiny sandwiches Papa loves so much and a divine apple tart,” Katherine added.
    “And?” Amelia prodded.
    Katherine exchanged a quick glance with Cousin Sophia, then continued. “Papa perused the library to his heart’s content— or at least as time permitted. In fact, Lord Ramsey has given him free run of the place.”
    “Oh,” Amelia breathed in an envious sigh. “What about you? Surely you did not sit admiring the view all that while, although I am sure the view is all that is admirable, for it must be, must it not?”
    ‘Lord Ramsey took me to see his theater,” Katherine replied in a tranquil voice that belied the sudden tumult in her pulse at the very memory. She omitted their discussion of the view of the Gothic Tower and her play.
    “You must tell me every detail. I think it is vastly unfair that you alone should see the place, Katherine. You do nothing to warrant such attention.”
    “She breathes, does she not?” inquired Cousin Sophia mildly.
    Amelia paid no heed to Cousin Sophia. She rarely did, seeming to believe the older woman all about in her head. “I await your description, Katherine.”
    ‘Tis a large room with a high ceiling touched with gold. Murals of the muses decorate three of the walls. Across the far end of the room is a very good stage with all the things one needs, I suspect, for a production.”
    “And what would you know about that, pray tell?” Amelia inquired pertly. She gave Katherine another one of her envious, almost sullen looks. “I declare it is most unfair.”
    “One must be prepared to make the best of any situation,” Cousin Sophia inserted sternly. “For all you know, Katherine petitioned him for a change in the university rules pertaining to the fellows. You are aware, are you not, that Lord Ramsey is a high member of the governing body of the university?” Cousin Sophia’s voice flowed as mild as milk, but nevertheless contained a thread of something that stopped Amelia from answering back as she must have wished.
    “I had forgotten that you are quite taken with a certain fellow. How is Mr. Weekes, Katherine? Did he not dine here recently?”
    Wondering how Mrs. Bonner had gleaned that bit of information—for Katherine had said nothing to anyone—she said, with as much calm as possible, given the provocation, “Indeed, he was here the evening before last. He finds it desirable to consult with my father frequently, it seems.”  Katherine gave Melly a coy smile, implying that there could well be another reason Mr. Weekes would visit the Penn household. It was against her nature to do this, but of a sudden Melly’s presumptions annoyed her. In addition, Mr. Weekes had irked Katherine with his lack of appreciation of her careful preparations for his visit.
    “Do you not fear that Mr. Weekes will take it most unseemly that you involve yourself with the theater, Katherine? You write those little plays and quite dote on the performances. After all, there is something of an odor about actors and actresses, I believe. Not that I have ever known any,” Amelia decried in modest accents, “but I have heard tales, you know.”
    “I can well imagine,” Cousin Sophia commented dryly. “Your dear mother seems remarkably well informed about nearly everything.”
    Amelia smiled with gratitude at this recognition of her dearest mama. “That she does. So you deemed Lord Ramsey’s theater charming, dearest Katherine?”
    “Lovely, quite, quite lovely. You know, Melly, Lord Ramsey must feel the theater all