Katherine, When She Smiled

by Harmon, Joyce

  The vicar answered seriously, “I’m sure if I were to examine the scene more minutely, I might find some behavior that is not what it should be. But on a cursory inspection, I find nothing to disapprove of. And I confess to bafflement as to how you came to have the opinion that I would disapprove of the sight of a group of people feeling rational enjoyment at harmless amusements.”

  “Ah!” said Amanda, as if learning an astonishing new fact. “So you will not condemn rational enjoyment. Congratulations, sir. But tell me, what is your opinion of exhilaration?”

  “That,” Downey said darkly, “would depend entirely on the cause of the exhilaration.”

  “Why, so it would!” said Amanda, clapping her hands in delight. After a moment of silence, she added, “I think teasing you is what I will miss the most when I leave here.”

  After a pause, the vicar said, “And perhaps I might miss being teased.”

  Lord Charles and Katherine strolled the perimeter of the picnic site, enjoying the scenes of revelry and enjoyment. “It must be quite satisfying to be able to provide something like this for your neighbors,” Katherine said.

  “Why, yes,” Charles admitted, as if surprised. “It is satisfying.”

  They watched the lawn bowls players for a few moments, moving on to battledore and shuttlecock, and then to an archery range. Helen and Evelyn were trying their hand at the archery, with the gallant young men eager to assist and advise them.

  Charles looked over the entire scene and said, “I don’t see the boys, I suppose they’re still off to the woods.”

  “No doubt,” Katherine said. “They’ll return when they get hungry again, which ought to be quite soon, the way boys that age eat.”

  “I hope they don’t miss the ices,” Charles said. “Mrs. Spelling has outdone herself. There are bombes flavored with lemon or pineapple or lavender.”

  “Umm!” said Katherine appreciatively. “I will certainly want one of those. Oh, look, there’s Han now.”

  Han was on the far side of the picnic grounds. He scanned the crowd with every appearance of urgency. Spotting Charles and Katherine, he began to make his way toward them as quickly as he could, pushing his way through revelers without compunction. As he neared them, Katherine said uneasily, “Something’s wrong.”

  Han was filthy. Not the sort of filth than a young lad would acquire from a lively picnic. He was covered in grime, even including his hair. But it was the look of desperation on his face that caused Katherine the most misgivings. “Where’s Jack?” she murmured.

  “Charles!” Han called, running up to him. “You must help!”

  “What’s happened?” Charles asked.

  “The cave! We found the cave. It goes way back into the hill. It seemed so grand. But then the roof collapsed!”

  “Where’s Jack?” Katherine said again. And with rising panic, “WHERE’S JACK?”

  Han turned to her with a sad, guilty look. “He was on the other side,” he said.

  “The other side of what?” Katherine demanding.

  “Of the collapse,” Han said. “I don’t think the roof actually fell on him, in fact, I heard him saying something after the rumbling ended, so he wasn’t crushed. But he’s trapped in there.”

  “Trapped!” Katherine repeated, hands to her throat.

  “Show me where this tunnel is,” Charles said shortly. “Come on.”

  Han turned and went back the way he came, Charles and Katherine trailing behind. As they passed their table, Charles called to Han, “Wait a minute!”

  Han paused, looking back, as Charles ran over to Hector’s tree. “Hector! Fernley!” he called, as Fernley slept on. Katherine jittered with impatience, wondering was what the point of waking the dandy. Finally Charles cupped his mouth with his hands and shouted, “Cave in, Captain!”

  Fernley’s eyes popped open. “Yoiks,” he said mildly. “Where’s the trouble?” He surged to his feet and followed Charles, who hurried back to join Han and Katherine.

  “Come along,” Charles told Hector. “This is your line of work. We’ve had a cave in at an old mine and a lad is trapped inside.”

  “Ah,” said Fernley sapiently. They were passing the workers’ and tenants’ tables and Fernley paused and pointed at two of the men seated there. “You. And you. You fellows come with me.”

  The little expedition entered the woods and wound through the trees, as the sounds of revelry receded behind them. Katherine moved up beside Han and asked, “What happened?”

  Han shot her a guilty look. “I had a notion about this old mine, based on the way the land is shaped, you see. I suggested it to Jack and we looked around some more, and sure enough, there was the entrance, rather overgrown, but we found it. It was such a thrill for us and we were so proud of ourselves.” He winced at the memory. “We were going to explore and have a hideout and be smugglers, you know, or shipwrecked pirates. Jack headed down the tunnel, but I was at the entrance, and called to him that we should go and get candles and come back later. But then there was a rumble and things started falling, rocks and wood and dirt.”

  Katherine gasped.

  “I called out a warning to Jack, and then I jumped back,” Han went on. The collapse was right where I was standing and I had to get out from under it. I’m not sure how far back the collapse goes.”

  “Did Jack get hit?” Katherine asked. “Could you tell?”

  “I’m not sure,” Han admitted. “He might have gotten hit by something, but he’s not under the slide. When all the crashing stopped, I went in and got to the collapsed bit and shouted to him. I heard something, his voice, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying. I shouted that I would go bring help and that’s what I did.”

  Han fell silent, obviously deeply burdened with a sense of guilt. Katherine had her own guilt to wrestle with. “Oh, why didn’t I forbid him from looking for that mine?” she asked aloud.

  “Because you knew he would ignore you,” Lord Charles said unexpectedly. “You can’t keep a lad that age on leading strings and once out of your sight, it’s up to his own common sense to keep him out of trouble.”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t have obeyed,” Katherine said, “but at least he should have been warned it was dangerous. But I said nothing because I thought scouring the woods for a cave entrance was the least dangerous and troublesome thing a boy could get up to.” She added with bitter self-reproach, “I never dreamed they would actually find it. I should have known, perhaps.”

  Then she too fell silent, saving her breath for the hike over rough terrain. Behind her, she heard Captain Fernley interrogating his two recruits. “You there,” Fernley said, “you’re one of the estate gardeners, am I right? I’ve seen you in the grounds.”

  “ ‘at’s right, sir,” the gardener replied. “Adam Goode, ‘at’s me.”

  “Very well,” the captain said. “Once we reach this mine and know where it is, your task will be to find the head gardener and all your fellows and bring them back here. Have them bring shovels and picks and barrows. We have a job of work to do. And you.”

  “Sir?” the other recruit asked.

  “What’s your job?”

  “I work on the home farm, sir. Johnny Flite, that’s me.”

  “Do you know the estate carpenter?”

  “Why shor, sir. Blake, his name is.”

  “Is he at the picnic?”

  “That he is, sir, missus and kiddies as well.”

  “Very well. Your task will be to find Blake and pass on these instructions. He is to gather up as many carpenters and wood workers as are readily available, as well as their tools and some stout lumber, and bring them up here. Their job will be to shore up our excavation as we go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Here we are!” called Han, and they saw an area where underbrush had been uprooted and pulled aside to reveal a hole in the side of the hill.

  Before anyone could catch her, Katherine raced forward into the tunnel, shouting, “Jack! Jack, can you hear me?”


  Shocked, Fernley said to Lord Charles, “I say, no females in my excavation site. Sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”

  “Of course,” Charles said grimly, and plunged in after her.

  SEVENTEEN

  The tunnel only extended a few yards before reaching the site of the cave-in. Katherine was at the rubble, calling for her brother, when Charles entered and took her arm. “Jack! Say something!” Katherine said, and then listened intently.

  “You must come out of here and allow the men to do their work,” Charles said.

  “Listen!” Katherine said. “Do you hear anything? I thought I heard something!”

  The two listened for a moment, and Charles said at last, “Nothing. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

  Fernley had followed them inside and was looking up, making noises such as ‘hmm’ and ‘aha’. At last he said, “Of course it collapsed. Couldn’t very well do anything else, now could it?”

  He looked at the others and said, “All right. Out of my mine, if you please.”

  Charles backed out of the mine, drawing Katherine with him. She resisted at first, but he said, “Fernley knows what he’s doing here. Do you? Unless you’re an excavation expert, we need to get out of his way and let him do his work.”

  “He’s an excavation expert?” Katherine said in surprise.

  “Of course,” Charles said. He was glad he could at least distract Katherine from her worry about her brother. “Military mining. Fernley is one of the best there is.”

  “Military mining,” Katherine said with a puzzled frown. “What would an army be mining for? Surely they bring with them what they need.”

  “They’re not mining for resources such as coal or iron,” Charles explained, “but to weaken an enemy’s fortifications. Dig under the wall, plant explosives, wall comes down. But you don’t want your tunnels to collapse until you’re ready for them to collapse. Digging tunnels that don’t collapse until you want them to is what Hector does best.”

  “I see,” Katherine said.

  “Perhaps you should return to the picnic,” Charles suggested. “Your aunt and sister must be starting to wonder, and when Fernley’s men head back to get the workmen, there could be quite a sensation if not a panic.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Katherine insisted. “I’ll stay outside and not get in the way of the workmen, but I’m staying right here.”

  Charles sighed. “Very well,” he said. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and spread it over a fallen tree, offering Katherine a seat. She subsided onto the tree trunk, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Oh, I say,” Charles said uneasily. “Please don’t cry. I can’t offer you a handkerchief; you’re sitting on it.”

  “I’ll try not to,” Katherine said. “Oh, how could I have let this happen? I should have been paying more attention.”

  “I don’t see that you can blame yourself,” Charles said, sitting beside her. “Boys run wild in the summer, it’s always been that way. Especially when there are several of them; they egg one another on to wilder and wilder exploits.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I was distracted this summer, and not attending to my duties as I should have been.”

  Charles didn’t reply to that, wondering if it was Miss Rose’s romance with the vicar or her family’s visitor that provided the distraction.

  Katherine looked up and looked around the little clearing, trying to orient herself. Where precisely were they? “Oh, look,” she said, “you can see the manor house from here.”

  Charles followed her eyes and saw that indeed, Greymere Manor loomed in the distance, faintly seen through the trees.

  The workmen were arriving now, bustling past Katherine and Lord Charles with tools and barrows and wooden beams. Captain Fernley deployed his force with precision and set them to work.

  After the first flurry of activity, Katherine’s attention went from the busy sounds coming from the tunnel to the roofline of Greymere Manor. Three turrets and a cluster of chimney stacks. She furrowed her brow in puzzlement, wondering. Then she jumped to her feet. “Goodness gracious!”

  “What?” Charles asked.

  Not answering, Katherine moved off through the woods. Charles watched her go, thinking it would be best if she returned to the others at the picnic. The lad might be fine, but in the event of the worst outcome, he would prefer the sister not be there when they made the discovery. A more gentle breaking of the news would be more suitable.

  But then Charles realized that Katherine was not moving down the hill toward the lower pasture, but taking a new course. Where was she going? Charles got up and followed her.

  Katherine moved briskly through the woods, not following a path, but setting her course by glimpse of the manor seen through the trees. After following for a few minutes feeling increasingly baffled, Charles caught up with her. “Miss Rose, where are you going?” he asked.

  “The manor,” she said shortly.

  “Are you ill?” asked Charles with concern. “Do you need to lie down?”

  “I am quite well, thank you,” Katherine said, continuing on her determined course.

  “Why are you going to the manor then?” Charles persisted.

  “Because I need to find the peculiar staircase,” Katherine said.

  It occurred to Charles with some dismay that stress and grief must have turned Miss Rose’s mind. He got in front of Katherine and took her by the shoulders, bringing her to a halt.

  “Let me go!” she said in outrage.

  Charles spoke softly, hoping to bring her back to her senses. “Let me escort you back to the picnic,” he said. “Your aunt can look after you there, and I’ll find you some cool lemonade and a shady spot to recover.”

  The eyes that met his blazed with anger and, he was astonished to see, absolute sanity. “Don’t insult me, sir!” Katherine snapped. “I don’t need to be looked after, I need to be allowed to go about my business immediately.”

  Charles released her shoulders and raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize, ma’am,” he began.

  She brushed around him and continued on her course, leaving Charles scrambling to catch up.

  “Nor do I need an escort,” she said.

  “But I think I shall accompany you regardless,” he replied. “And perhaps if you would explain what you mean about a staircase, I would be less concerned about your well-being.” She didn’t answer, and he added persuasively, “I could be more help to you if I understood what you were about.”

  Help! Katherine was momentarily stunned. After all, why not accept Lord Charles’ assistance? Why had she been so determined all this time to keep Papa’s secrets, to manage everything on her own? Perhaps such a course made sense in the beginning, but now, with Jack’s life in the balance, why not allow someone to help her?

  So she said, “I just realized, you see, that Greymere Manor is Castle Thunderclap.”

  “Castle…” Charles said. He looked closely at Katherine, but she still seemed rational.

  Katherine gave a weak chuckle. “Oh, dear, did that sound quite mad?” she asked.

  “It was an explanation that didn’t explain,” Charles said. “Perhaps if I knew more?”

  “Very well,” Katherine said, continuing her brisk stride toward the manor. “First, you must know that I learned after Papa died that Papa was Mrs. Wilson.”

  Another statement that sounded deranged! Charles began, “Who is…? Mrs…? Oh!” Now he recalled. “You mean the author?”

  “That’s right,” Katherine said. “Papa had been writing gothic novels under a pen name for seven years.”

  “I see,” said Charles, though in fact he did not.

  “I also discovered that payment for the novels comprised the majority of the family income, and that Papa had died with a novel only half completed. So I went to work completing it,” Katherine said.

  “Good heavens,” Charles said. “How enterprising of you. Did your family help? Your aunt perha
ps, or your sister?”

  “No,” Katherine said. “I’ve told no one of this until this moment.”

  “You’ve kept this all to yourself?” Charles asked in surprise. “Why?”

  “It seemed important at the time,” Katherine said with a sigh. “You must understand that Papa never told us about any of this, so it seemed clear to me that he didn’t wish to become known as a writer of gothic novels. They are not thought highly of, you know.”

  “Very well,” Charles agreed. “Gothics are not well thought of, and you chose to keep your father’s secret and carry this load alone.” Charles thought back to his interactions with the Rose family, and saw them all in his mind – comfortable Alice and fanciful Helen and adventurous Jack. And serious Katherine, with a load on her mind. Well, no wonder. He added, “I still don’t understand what that has to do with our current problem.”

  Forging stolidly ahead, Katherine said, “I’ve just realized that the castle in Papa’s last book, the one I’ve finished, is based on Greymere Manor. You recall Papa used to play here with Reggie Grey when he was a boy. The whispering gallery, the prospect down to the river, the turrets and chimneys, they all look exactly the way Papa described Castle Thunderclap.”

  “And so – ?” Charles prompted.

  “And so I’m hoping that all of what Papa said about Castle Thunderclap holds true for Greymere, because in the novel there was a cave, and there was an entrance to the cave in the castle!”

  “Oh! I see!”

  “Precisely. If we could find the other entrance to the cave, if such an entrance exists, we might be able to get to Jack much more quickly that way.”

  “And that’s down this staircase?” Charles asked. “A hidden staircase, I presume?”

  “Of course,” Katherine said. “What is a gothic without a secret stair? In fact, Papa titled his novel The Peculiar Staircase.”

  Charles felt an overmastering urge to take at least this one burden from her. So he said, “Now that I understand the situation, all that remains is for you to tell me where this staircase is and how one accesses it. Then you might rest in the drawing room and I’ll restore your brother to you as soon as may be.”