An hour later, Katie was sitting in a beautifully constructed house with her foot up on a pillow, talking with the Dixon's 13 year old daughter, Elizabeth. Her wounds had been taken care of by Mistress Dixon. Mrs. Dixon was a gentle woman, with gold hair and fair skin. She was about 5 feet tall, and seemed to be in her late thirties. The Doctor was off somewhere talking to Mr. Dixon, having left Katie on her own. Rather gratefully, it seemed to Katie.
The Dixon's were obviously an old family, judging by the rows of portraits on the walls. Unlike the thick accent of Liam, the Dixon's speech was closer to London then Edinburgh, Scotland's capitol. Their house was in a glen over-looking a loch.
"How old are you Kathryn?" Elizabeth asked.
"Please call me Katie. I'm 15, depending on who's counting."
"What do you mean by that? You're either 15, or you aren't."
Katie smiled, trying to picture Elizabeth's face if she was to tell her the truth. "In some ways, I haven't been born yet. However, I've lived 15 years."
Elizabeth tilted her head. "That's a funny sort of riddle."
Katie laughed. "Let me know if you figure it out."
"Oh I will. I'm good at solving things."
"I think this one will be too hard for you. What year is it?"
It was Elizabeth's turn to laugh. "You must have hit your head harder than we first thought. It's 1742, May the 1st. This afternoon we're having a dance up here. They're such fun." Elizabeth's expression sobered, and then her face turned a bit red. "Ah, I hope I don't offended you by asking this, but why are you wearing men's clothes?"
Katie stared blankly at Elizabeth, then realized what she meant. "Oh! You mean my jeans. It's bit complicated, you see…" She licked her lips, doing her best to appear embarrassed, hoping her story would sound convincing. "I'm not really the Doctor's daughter. Not by blood, anyway. He found me not too long ago. I had recently been attacked, and though I was able to escape, my clothes were torn beyond repair. He took me to a hospital to recover, and when I did, he asked me if I wanted to travel with him. I have no living family, and no place else to go, so I accepted. As he doesn't have much extra money, and hardly carries dresses around with him, I had to wear men's clothes. And really, I don't mind. It's far easier to move around in them."
Elizabeth's eyes had grown wide, but she appeared sympathetic. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Katie smiled reassuringly at her, grateful her story had worked. "It's alright."
Elizabeth looked Katie up and down, scrutinizing her. "I'm tall for my age. You're about my size. I think you would be able to fit into one of my dresses for tonight."
"What do mean?"
"What you wear every other day doesn't matter to me, but on May day, in front of people who will be a bit quicker to judge you, you need a dress to wear. I have some that would fit." She nodded decisively, stopping any arguments Katie might have had. "Yes, I think you'd better wear the green one, though the blue one would also fit your hair color. Can you walk yet? We don't have to be ready until noon, and I would like to show you around."
Katie decided to just go with the girl's decisions. Except for the high school dance that had turned into a mini hostage situation, she hadn't worn a dress for years. Still, it might be fun. she thought to herself. Anyway, I really would love to see this place.
"Sure, walking isn't a problem." She swung her leg down to the floor with a thud and stood up, then started untying the bandage around her head. "Right then. Lead the way, Miss Dixon."
Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows teasingly. "My mother is going to get upset if her patient starts deciding when the wrappings come off."
Inwardly, Katie berated herself. She had already forgotten that people didn't heal rapidly in the 18th century. If she took off the bandage now, and Elizabeth saw that her wounds were already healed, questions would be asked that would prove hard to answer.
"Right. Sorry. I just never liked bandages, especially not when they're falling in my eye."
Elizabeth held out her hand and smiled. "Never mind that. Let's go."
The Doctor stood in front of a large library window, watching Kathryn follow Elizabeth into the forest with a shrug and a light smile. He lifted his glass to his lips, then remembered it was red wine and set it down. He had only taken it to be polite. Alcohol damaged brain cells, so he always did his best to avoid it.
"Our children seem to be getting along quite well, Doctor. I'm pleased. Elizabeth doesn't see many children her own age. I simply hope your daughter doesn't affect her adversely."
Mister Dixon was a tall man, even taller than the Doctor. He gave off the impression of having been starched and ironed with his clothes, which made the Doctor uncomfortable. He would have rather been with the shepherds, but as a guest and an (literally) acting physician, he couldn't afford to be rude. He just hoped that Kathryn could do the same.
"I can't say I approve of the clothes she wears, but I suppose it would be far easier to travel without the heavy skirts of a woman's dress. Kathryn doesn't much look like you, Doctor. Does she take after her mother?"
"I wouldn't know. I never met her mother." The words were out before the Doctor realized his blunder. How was he supposed to cover for it now?
Mr. Dixon narrowed his eyes slightly. "You must have met her mother, sir, in order to hold the claim that you are her father."
The Doctor cleared his throat, coming up with a sketchy, but mostly true, account. "I'm not really her father, Mr. Dixon. I found Kathryn running from attackers. She had managed to get away, but she was severely injured. I took her to a place to rest, and once she had I gave her the option of traveling with me. She accepted with little hesitation."
"What of her family? Do they know of Kathryn's whereabouts?"
"She never speaks of them, and the few times I have asked, she refuses to answer. I can only assume they are not alive."
Mr. Dixon nodded, believing he understood. "I see. She must have grown up on the streets after her parents died, the poor child. It was good of you to take her in, considering." He inhaled the fumes and tasted the wine, staring out the window as if he had personally put life into motion.
Considering what? That she wasn't a moneyed lout like you are? If you only knew who she really was, you'd swear off that stuff for the rest of your life. It was during moments like these the Doctor was very glad human's were not telepathic.
Something appeared in the corner of the Doctor's eye. He always paid attention to the corner of his eye, so he turned. Several servants were standing together, talking worriedly. In any other household, the Doctor never would have cared. But here, everything moved smoothly, and he could tell Mr. Dixon would take no slacking off. The Doctor cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll just poke around a little bit, take a walk round outside, you know."
"Of course." Mr. Dixon barely glanced up as he refilled his glass. "Feel free to go anywhere you like." He lifted the glass and swallowed, already lost in his own clouded mind.
The Doctor left him to it. He sauntered out onto the lawn where tables were being set up and a space cleared for dancing. He walked quietly up to the cluster of servants, and caught the tail end of their discussion.
"I'm telling ye, nae guid will come o' it. Ye a' heard it yestreen, while the moon was shining fu', wailing awa'. Emma here even saw it."
The one the Doctor assumed was Emma nodded fervently. Another servant spoke up.
"Aye, I dinna care how special the day is, someone's going tae be deid before midnicht."
"What makes you say that?"
The three turned to where the Doctor was leaning against the stable wall.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you it was impolite to eavesdrop?"
The Doctor tilted his head back a bit, even though Emma was shorter than he was. "You're the one that saw it, aren't you? What did it look like?"
"I dinna think it's any of your business. Did Dixon send you tae check up on us? Try to get us to turn each other in for a few pennies?"
"Emma…" one of the men cautioned, placing a hand on her arm. She pulled away.
"I dinna care if I get the sack. I'm thinking o' quitting anyway. I'm tired of coming across hooseholds where the ones hiring me ayeways try to create discord amang the servants."
The Doctor cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to himself. He flashed a small wallet with physic paper, making them believe him when he said, "I'm the Doctor. I'm an expert on the subject of Res Ut Planto Sanus in Obscurum. I deal in strange sightings." He slipped the wallet back into his coat pocket. "Now, Emma. Tell me what you saw."
The anger that had defined her face a moment before dissolved into fear and worry. "It was frichtsome sir. I was awake late, finishing my chores, when I heard the clock sound out."
"What was the time?"
"11:45. I looked out one of the windows on the second floor. Everything was siller because of the fu' moon, and that's when I saw her. She looked like a normal person at first, with her cloak hood up. Then she turned, and looked right up at the window I was in. I could nae move. She pushed back her hood, and her long gray hair fell out, floating aboot her face. Then she screamed a long, wailing, mourning sort o' scream. I nearly died of fright right then."
Emma's eyes were wide with honesty and remembered terror. "When she stopped, she simply vanished. Nae trace of her left, save that unearthly wail. It seemed tae be everywhere. I knew then that it was her." Eliza swallowed hard, then spoke quietly. "It 'twas a Banshee, the foreteller of death."
"A Banshee? Are you sure?"
Elizabeth gave Katie a look. "I'm positive. I saw it clear as day."
"You sure you didn't have eggs and pickles for dinner the night before?" Katie asked, amused. She held back a tree branch for Elizabeth to walk past.
"That sounds disgusting." Elizabeth said, making a face. Then she sobered. "I'm serious, Katie. If you had been there, you would have been terrified too."
Katie smiled lightly. "I doubt it. Not much scares me." She abruptly spun around, her arms crossed. "What about you? Do you ever get scared? Why don't you some out and tell us about it."
A young man, not much older than Katie, walked out from behind a tree. He looked a lot like Elizabeth did, with light brown hair and bluish eyes.
"John! What are you doing here? I told you to stop following me." Elizabeth said, almost scolding.
He crossed his arms. "Mother doesn't want you out here by yourself. You're getting older, Elizabeth, and you need to start acting that way."
"For your information, blind man, I am with someone, and she seems to be a better companion then you are. Why didn't you just come out and say you were there?"
"Well, technically he did, if you were listening." Katie interjected. She started gesturing with her hands as she paced back and forth, acting like a math teacher explaining a problem that is simple only to her. "He was sitting under a rowan tree, pretending not to watch us, when we left your house. He stubbed his toe on a root shortly after he started following us, I did hear the word you used and I'm certain your mother didn't teach it to you. Two minutes after that he stepped on a twig and ducked behind a tree when he thought you saw him even though you were looking at a bird. He nearly broke out laughing several times while you told me about the banshee, and really John-it is John isn't it?"
Elizabeth's brother nodded, speechless. Katie launched right back into her monologue.
"And really John, if you want to follow people without being seen, don't breathe through your mouth! You sounded like Darth Vader with all that" Katie make several exaggerated inhaling and exhaling noises.
John held up a finger. He blinked, obviously lost. He started to say something, stopped, then started again. "Darth Vader?"
Katie clicked her teeth together. "Yeaah, long story. Elizabeth did have a point though. Why didn't you simply step out and say you were there?"
"You can't watch a person discreetly when you're in the open."
Katie nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. Anyway, now you're here, and I get the feeling you won't walk off whatever it is we might do." She suddenly noticed where John's attention was focused. She frowned. "Yes, I am wearing pants and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt. You have a problem with that?"
He glared at her. "I do. Women should not be wearing men's clothes. It's indecent. A woman's place is in the home, tending to a households needs, not gallivanting about the woods, pretending to own the freedom a man is entitled to."
Katie fell silent for a few seconds, her jaw working as she forced herself to bite back her immediate response. Then, in a quiet, sharp tone, she said, "I'll make you a deal. When you can live a week sewing, knitting, running a household, taking care of children, gardening, washing, mending, taking un-needed, undeserved scorn from ignorant, lazy, stuck up men, and in general do everything a woman does, while wearing heavy skirts, without complaining or raising your voice even once, come back and tell me a woman doesn't have the right to at least have the relief of wearing clothes that don't interfere with the chores prigs like you set up for us." She turned to Elizabeth. "Come on. Your brother obviously doesn't want to be seen with indecent girls like us."
John stiffened. "I did not intend to imply-"
"Oh, but you did." Katie walked up to John and searched his face, settling on his eyes. "And you know what? You need to change your "intentions" if you want your future wife to be won with something other than your father's money and her father's handshake." She turned on her heal and stalked off farther into the woods, calling to Elizabeth, who smirked at her brother and followed.
*Constructive critisisim welcome, praise happily accepted, flames not wanted*
