Page 126 of Kathryn

Becky squinted at the cramped writing. “He is—that cannot be harm; it must be home.” Her lips moved slightly as she worked out the rest. “There is a termite—no, a tenant—at Queen’s Bower?” She looked up.

“That is what I read, as well,” Katie said. “Although I cannot make out the name he gives.”

“I daresay my mother will mention it in her next letter.”

“Yes. I expect Phoebe will have some news, too.” Her older sister and her husband Paul lived less than five miles away from Doddy.

“Well, it’s good to have somebody in the old place,” Becky said before returning to the dressing room. “Houses aren’t made to sit empty,” she called from the other room.

Katie stared at the letter and tried to imagine somebody else living in the only home she had really ever known. It was a little painful to think of strangers in Queen’s Bower, although she knew her regret was foolish. For years Katie had thought she might occupy the house herself one day. The unmarried aunt who would spoil the half-dozen children Doddy would likely have.

Now she had a different vision of the future—one that brought a tentative smile to her face—and a home of her own.

Katie set Doddy’s confusing missive aside and reached for the other piece of mail she’d received that morning, a rare letter from Hy. They had exchanged several letters since Katie’s marriage, although neither of them was a prolific writer like Phoebe, Selina, or Aurelia.

Hy’s letters were polite and filled with news of her sons and life at Chatham Park. They held no hint of the disappointment she had expressed that grim day Dulverton had come to make his offer of marriage.

Katie had relived her sister’s pointed words often, especially during the first unhappy weeks of her marriage, when she had wanted, like a grudging child, to write and let Hy know that she was miserable and paying penance for her behavior.

She was exceedingly grateful that she had suppressed that vindictive, embarrassing urge. Everything Hy had said had been right. Who knows what would have become of Katie if Hy had not given her that talk? She’d been angry at Hy for far too long.

She went to her writing desk and took out not one, but two pieces of paper. It was past time she wrote to Hy to apologize for her behavior and, more importantly, to thank her for putting Katie on the path to happiness.

***

Gerrit stole a glance at his wife as their coach rolled down the hill into Lyme Regis. Whatever had been bothering Kathryn for days seemed to have finally dissipated. He wished he knew how to ask her what was weighing on her mind, but he had no clue how to even word such an inquiry. If somebody asked him that question, he would feel they were impinging on his privacy and tell them so directly.

Although, to be honest, Gerrit did not mind when Kathryn asked him personal questions. Indeed, he was beginning to if not exactly like it, at least recognize it for what it was: her way of getting to know him because he was somebody she valued. The thought that she wanted him… Well, that was something he tried not to look at too closely.

In any event, the shadows that had darkened her green eyes had lifted and their time together at the dig had been some of the best days of his life. Her enthusiasm for her new hobby had breathed new life into his own interest and made him realize that it had been far too long since he’d gone fossil hunting just for the joy of it.

At first, he’d wondered if she would grow tired of it. After all, it wasn’t just hard, dirty work, but often a person would dig for days only to discover that significant portions of the find had been destroyed.

But her enthusiasm seemed to be growing, rather than fading. In fact, it had been Kathryn who’d asked if he would like to accompany her today on her visit to Mary Anning’s shop.

“If you do not care to go, I will understand,” she’d said last night in the library when she’d mentioned making a trip into Lyme. “I do not wish to pull you away from the dig—”

“I would like to go with you. Miss Anning is a fascinating woman with a great deal of experience and knowledge about the fossils in this area.” Gerrit pulled a face. “It is unjust how many of her discoveries have been claimed by others, some of them men I know and once respected before learning they have no compunction about stealing another’s work if that other is a female.”

Kathryn had given him a look of surprise mingled with approval. “I am so pleased you feel that way. It quite annoys me whenever Mr. Everett or Mr. Scott diminish her contributions. Miss Cates said the Annings are barely getting by now that Miss Anning’s brother has gone to apprentice for an upholsterer and Mrs. Anning is too ill to assist at the shop.

Miss Cates was one of the young people from town who put in time at the dig. She was a hard-working, careful woman who did a far better job than most of the men Gerrit employed.

“When we are in London next time, I will take you to see Miss Anning’s most famous find,” Gerrit said.

Kathryn had clapped her hands with delight. “I am dying to see it. One of the other workers saw the ic—icky—oh dear,” she’d laughed. “What is it called again?”

“A man named Koenig—who purchased it for the British Museum—has called it an ichthyosaurus.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Fish lizard. What did you want to see in Miss Anning’s shop?”

“I’d thought to buy some of her fossils to give to my sisters and brother.”

“You do not wish to send your own to them?”

“I would like to support Miss Anning.”