An English Rose

Pip

Restlessly, Katherine paced in her family's drawing room, casting black looks at the rain falling outside. Several days had passed since she had gone beneath the opera house. Often, she found herself thinking about the man she had encountered there and the arguments she'd had with her friends because of her discovery.

Jane felt they should inform the authorities; after all, he was a cold-blooded murderer. Katherine maintained that the man wasn't doing any harm where he was, and should be left alone. All Michaela really wanted to go under the opera house to see it for herself, and was put out that Katherine refused to say where the passage began.

"Katherine, would you please sit down?" her mother demanded. The woman was writing at a small desk on the opposite side of the room. "You are distracting me, and I must get these correspondences done."

Heaving a sigh, Katherine sat down in the window seat and stared out at the pouring rain. She lifted her finger to trace a raindrop's path on the glass. She grimaced as the silence was broken by a shrill opera song. "What is she doing?" she demanded in annoyance.

"Practicing," Madame Hemway said placidly. "She heard the D'Arcys are putting on a musical soirée, and since they are such friends of ours, she expects to graciously accept an invitation to sing. You know she is the only one in our family with any musical talent."

"If you can call that talent," Katherine muttered. She turned around to watch her mother write, and wondered if maybe one of the letters was for her father. "Mother, where exactly did Papa go? All my letters were returned this morning."

Giving a start, Madame Hemway knocked over her ink. "Oh, dear," she said in distress, trying to mop up the black ink. "How clumsy I am! Katherine, ring for Anne and have her clean this up before it makes a worse mess."

"Mother, where is Papa?" Katherine asked insistently, with a frown. Why was her mother avoiding the question?

The older woman stood up abruptly, keeping her back to Katherine. "Now, Katherine, you know I can never keep track of where your father goes for his business trips," she answered, her tone peevish. "You must have simply gotten the address wrong. Give the letters to Pierre and he'll send them off correctly for you."

Standing up, Katherine walked to her mother. "Mother, I don't think papa's solicitor would have given me the wrong address," she said, putting her hand on her mother's shoulder. "What are you trying to keep from me?"

"Nothing. You are reading too much into this, Katherine," the woman exclaimed quickly. She turned and shook her head at the young lady. "Will you please call Anne to take care of this mess?"

Sighing, Katherine nodded and went to the door. "I know you're keeping something from me," she said over her shoulder as she opened the door. "And somehow, I will figure it out, Mother."

On the other side of the door, Pierre stood, watching her. Going past him, Katherine went down the hallway. Stepping into the drawing room, her brother closed the door and turned to his mother. "She suspects something," he said unquestioningly. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her nothing," Madame Hemway answered defensively. "And that just upset her even more. Pierre, we must explain it all to her before this gets any worse."

Pierre shook his head. "Not yet," he replied. "She's not ready to know."

Katherine found her maid just outside her bedroom. "Mother has spilled her ink in the drawing room, Anne," she told the older woman. "She needs it to be cleaned it up before it leaves a permanent stain."

Nodding, Anne hurried to comply and Katherine went into her room. She shut the door and leaned against it for a moment. A look of determination came to her face and she crossed the room to her writing desk. Pulling out some paper, she quickly wrote a note and then sealed it.