Katherine, When She Smiled

by Harmon, Joyce

  The two skaters ignored their audience. Han called out to Charles, “Watch out for that rough spot just there,” pointing to a spot in the middle of the floor.

  Charles skated to the back of the hall and gathered himself for a fine run, just as the door knocker sounded briskly. Han was just by the door, and called out, “I’ve got it!” and opened the door.

  It had been Charles’ intent to make three complete turns in his slide down the hall, thereby besting the record of two turns just established by Han moments before. But halfway into his second turn, he hit the rough spot and stumbled, no longer gliding, but careening forward, out of control and right out the door – where he collided with a young woman standing at the top of the stairs.

  As she walked up the drive toward Greymere with Jack, Katherine considered again that she was probably on an unnecessary errand. If this Cooper lad were indeed the guest of Lord Charles Ramsey, he must be perfectly respectable and she needn’t be concerned. Ah well, all to the good if so. She might just be afforded a glimpse of the Greymere front hall, exchange some pleasantries (not gossip!) with Purvis, and be on about her business. Get the marketing done and be able to deal with the problem with Euphonia.

  Her mind had already moved on to how she would deal with Euphonia as she plied the knocker at the front door at Greymere. From inside the house, she heard a call of “I’ve got it!” as the door opened.

  She was just about to utter a conventional greeting when the breath was knocked out of her by a sudden collision. The colliding force was a large young man, and for a perilous moment, the two of them tottered together at the top of the stairs. Then Katherine flung an arm around a pillar and steadied herself, and catastrophe was averted.

  “Oh, well done, Miss!” exclaimed a lad at the door. “Charles, I vow you would have pitched headfirst down those steps if not for her.”

  Charles? Katherine thought. Great heavens, this must be the long-awaited Lord Charles Ramsey that she held clasped tightly in her arms. Katherine carefully untangled herself from Charles and stepped back.

  Oh, she thought with dismay, reports did not lie; he was indeed ‘divinely handsome’. The wild disorder of the golden hair and the boyish expression of rueful chagrin only added to his appeal.

  “Oh, a thousand pardons, ma’am!” Lord Charles exclaimed. “Though indeed, that was unpardonable. Are you hurt? Say you’re unhurt!”

  Purvis bustled out the door then. “Miss Rose, Master Rose, do step inside, won’t you?” and shepherded the group back inside.

  A chair was found for Katherine, who sank into it thankfully. She looked up at the concerned circle of faces and almost laughed. “No, I’m not hurt,” she said in response to the repeated questions. “Just out of breath rather.”

  “And no wonder you’re out of breath,” Charles said, “with a great lummox crashing into you like that. Miss Rose, please accept my humblest apology.”

  “Oh, of course,” Katherine said with a distracted air. “Think nothing of it.”

  “Because of course gentlemen crash into you every day,” Charles said with an slight chuckle.

  An awkward silence fell. Han broke it to suggest, “What do you say to a round of introductions? Wouldn’t that be the English thing to do?”

  Jack eagerly took up the notion. “Of course it would. Shall I go first? I’m Jack Rose, and I would like to present my sister, Katherine Rose.”

  Katherine smiled weakly in acknowledgement.

  Han added, “And I’m Hannibal Cooper and this is Charles Ramsey, my… brother in law? I say, Charles, what would you be called?” To the group, he added, “My sister married his brother, so we’re in-laws of some sort.”

  Charles looked at Katherine with some concern. “Would you like some tea, Miss Rose? Ratafia? You took quite a knock.”

  Katherine was almost overcome with embarrassment. “Oh, please don’t make a fuss,” she cried. “I didn’t mean to intrude on you, just to walk my brother here. If I might just sit here quietly for a few moments.”

  “Certainly you may,” Charles said. He turned to Han. “You boys run along and do whatever it is boys do. And the staff,” here he shot a glance to the servants hovering by the door to the back of the house, “can return to their duties, and we can allow Miss Rose to recover her equilibrium.”

  “Come see the barn,” Han suggested to Jack, and the two boys ran off. The servants whisked themselves back to their own part of the house. Katherine was relieved to be no longer the center of a curious circle, but to her dismay Lord Charles sat down on the bottom steps and surveyed her thoughtfully.

  “Don’t let me keep you, please,” she said.

  “Keep me from what?” Charles asked. “I’m merely waiting for my steward to arrive with the estate books. When you arrived, I was hall skating.”

  “Hall skating?” Katherine had to ask.

  “It’s a sport that Han invented for marble floors,” Charles told her. “And as you saw, I am less adept at the sport than I had imagined.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Katherine. “And Jack will want to try it, I’m sure. Fortunately, our floors at Rosebourne are mere wood; I doubt if they would work.”

  “Perhaps,” Charles said, “you could explain a point that puzzles me. Why does a great boy like Jack need his sister’s escort to visit a friend?”

  “Since you ask,” Katherine replied tartly, “I just wanted to assure myself that Jack was indeed expected.” Seeing his look of puzzlement, she continued. “Ever since he arrived home at end of term, Jack has been full of tales about his new friend ‘Inky’, and the tales were so incredible that to be honest, I thought his friend was a fantasist.” Then she gave a rueful laugh. “And the tale that seemed the most improbable was that his sister was a duchess, and I see now that was true after all.”

  “Yes it is,” Charles told her. “And you needn’t worry about Han, Miss Rose. Granted, his upbringing has been a trifle unusual, in fact, he told me that your brother was teaching him how to be English. But there’s not a particle of harm in the lad.”

  “I quite see that now,” Katherine said primly. She stood and gave herself a small shake. “And as I am quite recovered from our little encounter, I’ll be on about my business and let you return to your own.”

  Charles stood as well and walked with her to the door. “A pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Rose,” he said.

  “Indeed, Lord Charles,” Katherine said coolly. “The pleasure is all mine.” She gave him a curt nod and walked down the front steps, leaving him staring after her in bemusement.

  Charles closed the front door and turned away, wondering what had happened. That young lady seemed to take him in extreme dislike. Did he offend her somehow?

  Katherine hurried down the lane and onto the road to the village, feeling a profound sense of mortification. What he must think of her! She must have seemed to be one of those brassy chits who will always find a way to throw themselves into the path of an eligible bachelor! Katherine had heard of such things, though no doubt it was more common in London than in a quiet village like Piddledean. Young ladies on the catch for a likely bachelor would affect to swoon into his arms, or fall and hurt their ankle just outside his house, or similar tricks.

  Doubtless a young man as rich, handsome and personable as Lord Charles met with such tricks quite often. He clearly indicated that he saw through what he thought was such a trick on her part with his question about her walking with Jack. Well, she hoped that her brisk and businesslike demeanor told him as plainly as any words could that she had no such ambitions where he was concerned. Conceited peacock! She had merely walked up the drive like a lady, it wasn’t as if she’d thrown herself into his arms. If anything, he had thrown himself into her arms! And what had he been doing? ‘Hall skating’? How absurd.

  Katherine had to admit, though, that the activity did appear rather exhilarating. She had always enjoyed ice skating in the winter when the pond froze over. But in the house? How childish, not at all what she
might expect from a gentleman and a soldier.

  Katherine sighed. She knew she was making a superficial judgment and that it wasn’t fair to the young man. But she foresaw that the quiet tenor of village life was going to be severely disrupted by this new element, and that the young ladies of her acquaintance were going to completely lose their reason. It seemed unfair for one young man to have so many advantages, being so handsome as well as being noble and rich.

  Doubtless he would return to London soon and things could get back to normal. Meanwhile, there was still the shopping to do and then the problem with Euphonia.

  “Ah!” said the vicar appreciatively, as the men and boy entered the dining room. “How splendid! And how kind of you to invite me to share this with you.”

  “I am merely following the excellent advice of my mother,” Charles said. “She always said, ‘Keep the clergy well-fed and the church on your side.’ “

  “I assure you, Lord Charles, that the Piddledean church is most decisively on your side!” Mr. Downey said. The young men took their seats and Purvis began the service.

  “So,” Charles offered. “I met Mr. Doakes today and learned much about my property. I seem to be the happy owner of quite a prosperous concern.”

  “You have a very picturesque mill and some bang-up swine,” Han offered. “The boar is quite ill-tempered, though.”

  “I think you can expect quite a pleasant society here,” Downey said. “I know Sir Robert will be expecting you to join them for a dinner party.”

  “It all sounds quite charming,” Charles said. “Only, how will I return such hospitality? Without a hostess, I could hardly invite the Fordice ladies to dine.”

  “Hmm, that’s true,” Downey said. “Oh, but you needn’t reciprocate in kind. Some entertainment such as a picnic would surely be proper. Tomorrow I’ll take you around for more introductions.”

  “Who will I be meeting?” Charles asked.

  “We’ll start with the Roses at Rosebourne,” Downey said. “They’re a more ancient family than the Fordices and surely second in standing in the community.”

  “I met several of the Roses today,” Charles said. “Young Jack is a school friend of Han’s and his sister brought him over.”

  “Ah, you met Miss Rose? Miss Katherine is the elder sister,” Downey said.

  “At first I thought her the governess, she was so soberly dressed, all in grey and black,” Charles admitted.

  “The family is still in mourning, you see,” the vicar explained. “Their father Sidney Rose died earlier this year.”

  “Sidney Rose,” Charles said thoughtfully. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  Downey smiled, “If you’re like most other schoolboys in England, I’m sure you remember the name from the cover of one of your schoolbooks. ‘Rose’s Greek Grammar’.”

  “Greek!” Charles exclaimed. “So that was the fellow! The Roses are a scholar’s family then? I suppose Miss Katherine must be quite clever. My brother married a clever woman; I find her terrifying.”

  Han looked up from his soup at this, but merely smiled.

  The vicar frowned, considering, and seemed to find the imputation of cleverness to be slightly insulting. At last he said, “I would say sensible, rather than clever. Miss Rose is a most sensible young lady. In fact…” Here he paused, but then he went on. “In fact, well, nothing’s actually arranged so I’ll beg you not to mention it, but the fact is that I have ambitions in that direction myself.”

  “Indeed!” Charles said. “Well, I wish you all the best, then. I’m afraid the young lady took me rather in dislike.”

  Han pointed out, “To be fair, Charles, you did almost knock her down the stairs.”

  “Knock her down the stairs!” exclaimed Downey.

  To his chagrin, Charles found himself explaining the hall-skating episode. He thought the vicar seemed a bit shocked by the escapade.

  Later that evening, Charles and Han sat in the library after the vicar had left. Han was yawning over a sketch of the Greymere mill and said, “I think it’s interesting that Mister Downey doesn’t realize that Miss Rose is quite clever.”

  “She is?” asked Charles in surprise. “How could you tell? She barely spoke a sentence before you left.”

  “I could see it,” Han said, with a shrug. “You know, in her eyes.”

  This was a new concept for Charles, both that the disapproving Miss Rose was clever, and also that cleverness was apparently in one’s eyes, or at least apparent to such a subtle observer as Hannibal Cooper. He thought about asking Han if he were clever, but decided he didn’t want to know.

  “I wondered, though,” Han went on, “does she hide it from him, or can he just not see it?” He yawned hugely and put away his sketch pad. “I’m off to bed,” he said, and wandered out, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts.

  Katherine spent the afternoon in Papa’s study, trying to put the recent embarrassment from her mind and lose herself in fictional travails. She found that she could make no headway with the detestable Euphonia, so turned her attention to Baron de la Tour. She found him irksome. How could Euphonia, however naïve, fail to see the man’s blatant villainy?

  It was a convention of the gothics of the day that the villain always seemed to have some physical imperfection. He might limp, or squint, or have a jutting nose or thick eyebrows. It made it too simple for the reader to identify the villain. Before Helen and Aunt Alice had embargoed Katherine’s comments on the current book, she would often point out with smug superiority, “Aha! Thin, pale lips? There’s our villain right there!”

  And honestly, thought Katherine, how probable was it that the villain would be so easily discerned? A handsome villain would certainly deceive the heroine more readily. It was human nature, she supposed, to expect that those who looked attractive would be attractive inside as well. But if Baron de la Tour were, say, ‘divinely handsome’, how much more easily he would be able to work his wicked wiles and get away with it.

  In fact, that might explain how the villain became villainous, Katherine thought with a thrill of creative excitement. His good looks disarmed everyone, yes, right from his childhood, and he was allowed too much license and latitude.

  Katherine left her pages and paged back to the earlier part of the manuscript, to the part penned by Papa. She found the first description of the Baron, and hovered over the lines with her pen. And then she hesitated.

  Was she really going to strike through lines that Papa had written? Was she going to change the words of Mrs. Wilson?! But then she steeled herself. After all, she reasoned, if Mrs. Wilson existed at all, she was Katherine now. Resolutely, Katherine drew a firm black line through Papa’s description of the Baron, and underneath, she penned the new description. In that moment, Katherine became Mrs. Wilson.

  SEVEN

  Katherine scratched away busily for several hours, not advancing the story, but going back and making changes to the text to account for her new and improved villain. She was particularly pleased with the thought that making the villain a less obvious scoundrel meant that the heroine didn’t have to be such a peagoose to be taken in by him.

  After several hours there was a tap at the door, and Sally entered, carrying a laden tray. “Miss Alice asked me to bring you your tea in here, Miss,” she said, depositing the tray on a table by the window. She straightened up and added, “Lor’, just like old times, it seems! Often and often I’d bring the master’s tea tray in here and he’d be scratching away at his papers, just like what you’re doing now. Takes me back and that’s a fact.”

  After Sally left, Katherine stood and stretched, surprised at how stiff she felt. She poured herself a cup of tea and reflected that Sally was right, it was indeed like old times. And how like her father she had become – both of them shut up in this study pretending to be doing work of deep scholarly importance while actually crafting sensationalist fiction for money. And both deceiving their family. She felt a momentary flash of shame, as she recalled
how deeply it had hurt her to realize that Papa hadn’t trusted her with his secret. But then she told herself, just as Papa must have told himself, that it was better for the others not to know.

  At the dinner table that evening, Katherine reflected that she might have known that her startling first meeting with Lord Charles would soon become public property. Jack was full of the tale, and obviously found it to be a subject for much humor and teasing.

  Her aunt and sister took the news in typical fashion. Aunt Alice exclaimed that Katherine might have been seriously injured, and in between anxious queries to learn if Katherine were really quite, quite certain that she was uninjured, peppered her with questions about Lord Charles, his appearance, his manners, what he had to say for himself, and questions about the furnishings at Greymere.

  Helen was pouting because she hadn’t been along. “You said you were not going to meet Lord Charles so there was no need for me to come,” she reminded Katherine. “And here you met him after all, and it’s just unfair!”

  “I assure you,” Katherine told her, “I did not expect to meet Lord Charles, and meeting him was a complete surprise to me.”

  “I’ll say it was!” Jack said. He punched his fist into his palm and said, “Wham!”

  “Jack!” Katherine frowned at him. “It was a most undignified and embarrassing situation, and I would far rather not have met his lordship at all than to meet him the way I did.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” Jack said. “Inky was quite impressed with you. He said you showed great presence of mind and prevented Charles from sustaining a serious injury.”

  “I’m so pleased,” Katherine said insincerely.

  “And that hall skating looks grand!” Jack said. “I want to try it. It would have to be at Greymere, though, because I tried to slide on our floors here and the wood just doesn’t work. Could we get marble for the front hall?”

  Katherine’s nerves were frayed by now and she snapped at her brother, “Jack Rose, in seven years, you will come into control of your inheritance, and when that day comes, you may, if you choose, elect to put marble in the front hall, rather than buying the home farm new plow horses to replace poor creatures long past retirement age, or pay school fees or repair a leaking barn roof. But until that day comes, so long as I am in charge of the family finances, I am sure I can find a thousand uses for the money that would be of more practical use than tearing up a perfectly good wooden floor and replacing it with slick stone so that silly boys can slide on it!”