The Daughter of Highland Hall (6 page)

Jon slid his draught piece across the board and glanced at Andrew. The lad was a surprisingly skilled opponent, and he had already jumped several of Jon’s pieces.

Andrew studied the board a few seconds, then a smile broke across his face. “I see what you’re doing.” He picked up one of his pieces and jumped over one of Jon’s, and then jumped a second, landing in the corner space of the last row. “Crown me!”

Jon groaned and sat back. “How did I miss that?”

Andrew’s eyes danced as Jon crowned the boy’s piece.

William lowered his newspaper, glanced at his son, and then at the board. “Don’t be too hard on him, Andrew.”

Jon held up his hand. “No, play your best game, Andrew. Don’t hold back on my account.”

The boy grinned. “All right, I will. It’s your move.”

Jon rubbed his chin and studied the board.

Millie rushed into the drawing room. “It’s time! Kate’s ready. Come and see.”

Andrew spun around and knocked into the draughts board, sending the pieces flying across the drawing-room carpet. He winced and looked at Jon. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Jon bent and scooped up a few pieces.

Andrew scrambled across the rug to help.

William stood and folded the newspaper. “Let’s clean up the rest later. We don’t want to miss seeing Kate off.”

Andrew jumped up and dashed out to the entrance hall. William sighed with a weary smile. “I’m sorry. Andrew rarely slows down.”

“It’s all right. I enjoy his zest for life.”

William chuckled, and he and Jon walked into the entrance hall together.

Julia met them at the bottom of the stairs along with Millie and Lady Gatewood. Lawrence and the two young footmen waited by the front door.

Penny appeared at the top of the staircase and leaned over the banister, her face glowing with a happy smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, we’re all waiting,” Lady Gatewood replied with an impatient sigh.

Penny moved to the side, and Kate stepped into view.

From where Jon stood, he could only see her head and shoulders, but that was enough to make him catch his breath.

Kate’s golden brown hair was swept up in a most appealing fashion, and two white feathers fluttered softly overhead as she began her descent. Around her neck she wore a pearl choker with a diamond-and-pearl pendant. One look at her creamy white neck and shoulders above the beaded bodice of her dress was enough to make him swallow hard.

Kate’s usually confident expression had been replaced by a guarded, searching look as she continued down the stairs. When she rounded the turn at the lower landing, the rest of her figure came into view. Her dress looked like a shimmering cloud of white, with its full skirt and the lacy veil and long train spreading out behind her on the stairs … just like a royal bride dressed to meet her noble groom.

All he could do was stare in stunned silence. He swallowed again and tried to take a breath, but his chest seemed locked tight.

“So, what do you think?” Kate directed her question to William.

“You look beautiful. I’m sure every head will turn when you walk into the throne room.”

Millie stepped forward. “Here are your flowers.” The little girl held out a large, fragrant bouquet fashioned of white roses and jasmine with a few trailing vines of variegated ivy.

Kate reached for the flowers. “Thank you, Millie.” She lifted her gaze to meet Jon’s, a question shimmering in her blue eyes.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say she looked breathtakingly beautiful,
but somehow he couldn’t form those words. Instead he forced a smile. “Good luck, Kate. I hope it goes well.”

Her countenance faltered for a split second. “Thank you,” she murmured, then turned away.

“Come along.” Lady Gatewood swept toward the front door. “There will be a huge crowd of carriages, and we don’t want to be last in line.”

Julia stepped forward and kissed Kate’s cheek. “We’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you.” Kate glanced at Jon once more.

He sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Lawrence opened the door, and Lady Gatewood led the procession outside. Millie scurried to help Kate with her train.

Lady Gatewood turned. “For goodness’ sake, Katherine, pick up your train and place it over your arm. You don’t want it to get dirty!”

Kate’s face flushed as she bent to scoop up the train and carefully drape it over her left arm.

Everyone followed Kate out the door and down the front steps. The carriage waited on the drive, the door festooned with flowers and ribbons that matched Kate’s bouquet. One of the footmen sprang forward, opened the carriage door, and offered Lady Gatewood his hand to help her climb in. Kate climbed in after, and the second footman tucked her long train around her feet before he carefully closed the door.

Julia slipped her arm through Jon’s and leaned closer. “I hope she’ll be all right.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he answered in an equally low tone.

“Kate puts on a brave front, but I can tell she’s nervous.”

“Really? She always seems so confident.”

“Didn’t you see her hand shake when she took her flowers?”

He tensed and glanced her way. “No, I didn’t notice.”

The two footmen climbed up to their position standing at the back of the carriage. The smartly dressed driver slapped the reins, and the horses pulled forward. Kate looked out the carriage window, lifted her white-gloved hand, and waved as the carriage rolled down the drive.

“Good-bye!” Penny followed the carriage until it passed out the gate and into the street.

Jon waved with the others. Too bad they couldn’t all go along to the palace and see how Kate fared. But that wasn’t done. Her aunt would accompany her into the throne room, but Kate would be on her own, those last few steps, as she curtsied before the king and queen.

Be with her, Father. Give her courage and grace. Guide her through today and into the right path for her future
.

Andrew tugged on his sleeve. “Can we finish our game?”

Jon watched the carriage disappear around the corner. He lowered his gaze to the lad. “I’m afraid we’ll have to start over.”

“That’s all right. Maybe it will give you a chance to win.”

Jon’s teasing growl filled the air as he chased Andrew up the steps and back into the house.

Kate gripped the ribbon-wrapped stem of her bouquet and followed the long procession moving slowly down the high-ceilinged hallway of Buckingham Palace. The scent of roses and jasmine floated in the air.

She glanced at the women walking ahead of her. Each one who would be presented wore a white satin gown with a veil and carried her long train draped over her arm just like Kate. Their dresses were unique, though the rules of court dress made them share some common features.

The soft red carpet hushed their footsteps, and the only sounds were the rustle of satin and petticoats swishing around the women’s ankles and an occasional hushed exchange between a debutante and her sponsor.

Aunt Louisa walked beside Kate, scanning the line and sizing up the other women. She leaned toward Kate. “There is Gertrude Hoffman,” she whispered, “and I believe that is her new daughter-in-law, Priscilla.”

Kate nodded, though she had no idea which women her aunt was talking about.

The procession slowed to a stop as the next group entered the throne room, and a decorative barricade was placed in front of the open doorway.

Kate shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling her shoes sink into the carpet. Her left shoe felt tighter than the right, and that foot was beginning to go numb.
Wonderful
. Soon she’d be hobbling her way into the throne room. She wiggled her toes, trying to relieve the painful sensation, but it was useless. If only she could sit down, remove her shoe, and rub her toes back to life.

Hoping to distract herself from her painful foot, she glanced at the large painting on the wall to the left, but the rather gruesome battle scene didn’t hold her interest. She scanned the line of women ahead, trying to tell how long it would be until she reached the throne room.

Why was it so warm and stuffy? The heavy train draped over her arm felt like a hot, sticky blanket. Moisture gathered between her shoulder blades and trickled down her back. She sighed and glanced toward the tall window to her right, wishing someone would push it open and let in a cool breeze. She smoothed her gloved hand over her skirt.

“For heaven’s sake, hold still and stop fussing,” Aunt Louisa hissed.

“I’m not fussing. I’m simply trying to get comfortable.” Kate straightened her posture and tried to look serene, but doubts stormed her heart.

She tried to recall the compliments William had given her before she left the house and Julia’s encouraging words, but they faded as her aunt’s critical comments flooded back. The entire ride to the palace Kate had listened to a litany of her shortcomings and warnings of what would happen if she failed to remember her training. Why, just once, couldn’t her aunt say something encouraging or reassuring?

The memory of Jon watching her come down the stairs rose in her mind. He seemed impressed at first, but his bland comment left her feeling deflated and full of doubt. “Good luck”? What kind of send-off was that? It sounded like something you said to a pal heading off to school to take an exam. If only he had said she looked beautiful, then she might have believed it.

Up ahead, two pages dressed in black-and-gold uniforms removed the barricade and signaled the next group to enter the throne room. Kate’s stomach tensed. It was almost time.

Her aunt gripped her forearm. “This is important, Katherine. Remember your training.”

Kate clenched her jaw. How could she forget?

The page motioned them ahead. “This way, please. Have your card ready.” He lowered his voice. “You will curtsy three times—to the king, the queen, and to Princess Mary.”

Kate swallowed and nodded. Her aunt would accompany her through the doorway, but then she would step back and let Kate go ahead.

The page pointed at her arm. “Your train, miss.”

“Oh yes.” She lowered her arm, and the fabric slid to the carpet. The page used his long wand to straighten out the material behind her. “Thank you,” she murmured and started to step forward.

But he held out his hand. “One moment, please.” He watched the young woman in line ahead of her approach the queen and begin her curtsy, then he turned and nodded to Kate.

She pulled in a deep breath and stepped forward.
“Think grace, think poise.”
Mr. Rounpear’s words floated through her mind as she followed the red carpet to the center of the room where the king, queen, and princess sat in elaborate chairs on a dais.

The Lord Chamberlain—a distinguished man with silver hair, who was dressed in white tights, black knee-length pants, and a black-and-gold jacket—stood to the right of the king. Kate’s hand trembled as she handed him her card. The young woman in line in front of her made her final curtsy to Princess Mary.

The Lord Chamberlain nodded to her, and she crossed in front of King George.

“Miss Katherine Evangeline Ramsey, daughter of the late Sir Randolph Ramsey, Baronet of Highland Hall, and the late Lady Eden Ramsey. Presented by her aunt, Lady Louisa Gatewood of Wellsbury.”

A dizzy wave swept through Kate, and all the air seemed to rush out of her lungs, but she had to keep moving. She focused on the king’s shoulder as she stepped to the right and sank down for her first curtsy. Lowering her
head, she counted to three. As she rose, the king offered a slight smile, which she returned. He was a small man, almost frail-looking, with large blue eyes and a neatly trimmed dark brown beard and moustache. He was not nearly as impressive as the paintings she had seen of him.

Her train swept along beside her as she crossed in front of Queen Mary and began her second curtsy. Her legs shook, but she managed to sink down and then rise without swaying. The queen wore a beautiful royal-blue gown, a pearl necklace with several strands, and a sparkling diamond-and-pearl tiara. Her blond, wavy hair was beautifully styled, and she acknowledged Kate with a brief nod, her delicate pearl earrings swaying as she did so.

Relief flowed through Kate. Just one more curtsy and she would be finished. She stepped to the right two paces and faced Princess Mary. The young woman’s bored gaze drifted around the room.

Kate tensed and waited, but the princess did not look her way.
How rude!
Princess or not, she ought to at least acknowledge those who bowed before her. Perhaps she should just stand there until the princess met her gaze. Or what if she tossed her bouquet into the princess’s lap? That might get her attention.

Kate dismissed those thoughts. It might give her a moment’s pleasure to startle the princess, but it would probably give her aunt a heart attack and make Kate a social pariah.

She sank down before the princess and lowered her head, but she didn’t bother to count to three. Why should she? The princess was obviously bored and eager for the event to conclude.

She rose, thankful to be finished, and turned to go. The whole room suddenly grew quiet. She glanced back. The princess’s eyes flashed to life and drilled into her.