Guess who is going on a trip to Scotland! I'm so excited. If anyone can recommend places to visit in Edinburgh please comment, my family has left me in charge of the itinerary which is both fantastic and ever so slightly stressful. Anything historical, pretty, literary or vegan would be wonderful.
Anyway, do you remember Kat's group from the soccer game way back in chapter 18? Fraser isn't the only one in the limelight. This time Sam makes an appearance.
'Murmuring how she loved me — she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.'
~ Porphyria's Lover, Robert Browning (1836)
Chapter Forty-five - Courtship's flatteries
Pale light glinted off the crystalline frost embracing the windows of the mansion. Prickles of the same glacial air that had driven Kathleen inside like a medieval damsel in winter could be felt through the glass. In surrender to the weather she had retreated to Cameron's favoured table in the far corner. No distant sounds of fencing or the games lesson in the grounds could be heard from her stone turret. Her usual solace as a ward of nature in these hours had been snatched by Jack Frost. Instead, Kat resided alone in a cavernous space intended for many. The patchwork of personalities stitched over the stern basics of the room only worsened her feeling of isolation. Books, pens and papers lay scattered over the thick rug, ink stains told the history of each wooden surface while jumpers evoked memories of their owners across the backs of each armchair. An odd collection of string, springs and every other odd and end characteristic of boys' pockets lay visible in the strangest of places. Despite the roaring fire and struggling radiators the room felt cold in the aching absence of life.
Kat flipped a page of Lady Audley's Secret* mindlessly, pondering how used to company she had grown. At St Mary's there had been the feel of a never-ending sleepover. The affectionate presence of friends with years of proximity and formative growth had never retreated, only extended with every trip into town or spontaneous activity within the institute. Now, the bonds of liberation made in the face of Welton's rigidity had brought a comfort unlike anything she had ever known - a sense of being on the edge of something life-changing.
Like a crash of thunder, the boys rolled into the room. Their shivers and cherry cheeks receding as their energy seeped into every corner. Their exhausted lolling, teasing and playful fights over cushions brought warmth. Supressing a fond smile, Kat turned back to her long-abandoned book, acting as if she did not breathe a little easier with each body dropping into the reserved seats around her. All, it seemed as she looked up, but one.
"Have you seen Knox?" Meeks took the words out of her mouth.
Her brow creased. "No, I thought he was with you?"
Neil shook his head, "when he didn't turn up to class, we figured he would be here."
"Have you tried-"
"He's not in his room" Todd said gently, "and Neil asked around."
She ran her left hand through her hair - the bow styled more à la Brigitte Bardot than usual - taking care to keep the shrinking red spot out of sight. Knox had borrowed a poetry book from her this morning with a promise to give it back by dinner. Kat voiced his promise, adding his awareness that she needed it back to show Keating something tomorrow. It was a deadline they knew he would not miss.
"And if he doesn't turn up by dinner?"
"He will!" Meeks frowned at Pitts' vehement interjection.
Neil sighed, "we might have to tell Keating."
"Then we give him until dinner," she said firmly, "and hope Hager doesn't find out first."
Hums of agreement rang out, and as the anxious chatter died down, she focused back on her book.
"He forgot that love, which is a madness, and a scourge, and a fever, and a delusion, and a snare, is also a mystery, and very imperfectly understood by everyone except the individual sufferer who writhes under its tortures."
Kat had barely lifted the cover when it was poked by the end of a ruler.
"Lady Audrey's Secret?" Charlie surveyed the cover with a smirk. "What sort of thrilling scandal could that be? An affair? A secret fortune? Creased linen?"
"Murder, actually."
He blinked, surprise colouring the contours of his face.
She tilted her head as she examined him. "And you had better not poke that ruler at my book again" she said lightly, "or perhaps you will be the man on the lookout."
"Hm," he pursed his lips, eyes shifting towards Cameron. "If I die unexpectedly the police had better be pointed in another direction."
Neil scoffed, "Mr law abiding citizen?"
"I always pegged him as a snitch." Charlie crossed his arms defensively, " but you've got to admit his temper is as high as his grades. Anyway, you know what they say about red heads and hell..."
Meeks coughed.
"Some very specific people of a particularly rare shade of red."
Meeks' glare lessened as Nuwanda continued to amend his statement. Quirking an eyebrow, he simply responded that Nuwanda would be the victim due to his mouth. No objections were raised; only a 'fair enough' shrug from the theoretical victim himself.
"Unless we're thinking too obviously," Pitts examined the group. "In every Agatha Christie murder it's always the least likely suspect."
"Or the quiet ones," Neil winked at Todd.
"Why discount a collaboration?" Kat mused with a grin.
"No. Pitts is right," Charlie insisted, "no one ever suspects the woman unless there's an affair. Besides, she's a reader-"
"Oh?" Kat turned to face him.
"- and books give a woman all sorts of naughty ideas." She smacked him lightly with her book, almost missing her target in her mirth. Cameron continued to read, oblivious to his friends' antics.
"If someone tried to pry my book away from me, I would absolutely take my revenge."
Todd grinned. 'Not if it was geometry.'
His comment drew more laughter from them all. Meeks had to remove his glasses to wipe the tears gathering in his eyes.
"Knox had better watch out," he concluded, "lest he damage Miss Murray's book."
XXXX
"There he is!" Pitts slapped the table, hastily leaning over to point out the approaching fugitive. His elbow caught the gravy boat, knocking over the china and flooding the table with hot liquid.
Cameron grabbed several napkins to mop up the mess, but it ran over the edge, dripping down onto Neil's lap. The taller boy shuffled back with a groan, thanking Todd for the napkin passed his way.
"Every dinner," Kat sighed, catching Neil's resigned eyes.
Knox appeared, dropping cavalierly into the empty seat on her right, and immediately serving himself a large spoon of potatoes as if the entire table had not stopped to stare at him.
"What happened?" He mumbled through his mouthful as gestured to the table, his brows furrowing as he continued to receive no response.
"What happened?" Charlie repeated his words, disbelief evident in his features. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Me?"
Neil frowned. "Knox. You cut class, disappeared for hours without a word, and now you swan in acting as if nothing happened?"
"I just needed to get away for bit!" He exclaimed. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I'm fine."
"Get away from what?"
"Huh?"
Meeks' eyes narrowed. "You said you needed to get away. What did you need to get away from for three and half hours?"
Kat examined him as he shrugged. Knox certainly didn't look stressed. He had colour in his cheeks, a smile in the corner of his lips and a dreamy daze in his eyes. The same daze that seemed to be impacting his mind. The only time she had seen him in this feverish state was...Chris. Her eyes raked down his figure, catching on the mud staining his clearly, non-uniform shoes. So, he had changed, and been through the woods. Surely, she thought, if he had met with Chris than Nancy would have called. Even if a secret rendezvous had been arranged, nothing got past Chris' quick-witted cousin.
Knox's tolerance wavered as the interrogation continued. He began to clam up with each additional question until a suspicious silence dominated the meal. The collective discomfort went unnoticed by its creator, although Kathleen had to concede that observation is rather difficult when the individual disappears. Only half an hour after his arrival, he went to bed. His feigned fatigue likely had less to do with evasion, and more to do with escaping Pitts' various 'experiments' to prove that Knox had been abducted by aliens and replaced by a creature they should send to area fifty-one.
The rest of the evening was spent in a frenzy of homework and conspiracy theories. In the face of what Cameron had dubbed the 'new Roswell hysteria,'* the scientific duo - with Cameron's sceptical assistance - had scoured the library and put together an amusing, and dare Kathleen say, slightly convincing presentation.
Any phantasmagoria of geometry wielding creatures she saw in the dark that night was a credit to their research, and not the over-active imagination keeping her lamp on that night.
XXXX
In tune with the conspiracies of the previous evening, Knox remained guarded. Whether the plot twist of the day was alien intervention or pure luck was anyone's guess, but by lunchtime Welton's cold halls were alive with gossip of another kind. Anger rose through the senior student body like tidal wave to come crashing down on one individual - Samuel Pechman.
Pechman, a promising member of the science club had cast his high IQ into doubt with a single, unforgivable mistake. He had written and sent the ivy league invitations to Welton's annual science presentation with the wrong date. A call from Harvard had alerted Nolan and all hell had broken loose. Instead of having over a week left to prepare, they had three days. Afterall, 'to err is human' for all but Welton Academy.
In lieu of her tutoring, Cameron was pacing. He had been doing so for fifteen minutes. Her eyes tracked his frantic path, taking a welcome break on Pitts chewing his nails or Meeks' anxious murmurings when she felt too dizzy from his movements.
"That's it!" He stopped, his head swivelling towards his silent audience. "Everybody out. Science club shall reconvene immediately." Several boys shuffled towards the table he had abandoned as he turned his attention to the society. "That means you as well" he hissed. His tone softened a fraction as he addressed Kat, "wait in my room, tutoring will commence once I have sorted out this mess."
"We'll make ourselves scarce." Neil clapped a hand on his shoulder, "don't worry. You'll find a solution."
He nodded grimly, tapping his foot until his sympathetic well-wishers had left the room.
Neil lead them away from the common room, stopping by the staircase. "I guess we should head to rehearsals early. Todd's coming tonight, so we'll see you later." Todd waved as they descended the staircase in the direction of the cold, but freeing air of the grounds.
The three remaining teens frowned at the encroaching boredom. The walk to the dorms seemed to take forever, each step anticipating further disappointments. When they finally reached their destination, Knox hesitated at the threshold.
Charlie's glare went unnoticed. "Do you mind looking over my history essay while you wait?" He asked. "It would kill time."
"Sure. Knox? Are you coming?"
He shook his head. "Sorry guys, I've got something to do." Before they could form any questions, he was gone.
Kat stared at the closed door. "That was weird."
"No weirder than he's been for the last twenty-four hours" Charlie wrenched his door open. In three large strides he was across the room and he threw himself onto his bed, sprawled out with one arm across his face and the other gesturing for her to make herself comfortable.
Kathleen ditched her bag at the foot of the bed, keeping only her current read in her hand as she settled with her legs tucked underneath her at the end of the bed. She leaned back against the wall, her breath catching at the sudden influx of memories from the last time she had been here. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Swiftly, she removed herself from the assault of memory and thrust her head into her book.
The hours slipped by like sand in an hourglass, its desert golden in the setting sun. Charlie's completed essay lay to one side, illuminated by the last rays of natural light. He slid his textbooks beneath his bed and as he rose, the aged cover of his companion's book caught his eye.
"What happened to the other book? The murder one with the floral cover?"
Her voice floated out from behind the brown shield, "I finished it."
Of course, he thought, wandering briefly why he had expected anything less. The cover hiding her face was a few shades lighter than her hair. The faded cloth exposed every mark of love and damage from years of use, a contrast to the rich tones the orange light explored in her hair. Today it was down, held back loosely like the French actresses in magazines. He had the urge to reach out like the boy in those books she liked so much. Neil had explained to him how the boy had tugged on the girl's braids, and had been whacked over the head with a slate for his insult. Why Neil thought that moment was so significant he would never know, but he could understand the impulse. God knows he had enough of his own. He watched her turn the page, the book lowered to reveal a dreamy expression absent of worldly burdens.
* 'Learn to win a lady's faith
Nobly, as the thing is high ;
Bravely, as for life and death —
With a loyal gravity.
Lead her from the festive boards,
Point her to the starry skies,
Guard her, by your truthful words,
Pure from courtship's flatteries.'
The motion of her lips was too rapid for him to read. Her open expression grew dimmer as her eyes fell down the page. Perhaps it was this knowledge that prompted his action, or possibly the same poor impulse control he had pondered only a moment ago. The reason did not matter. Suddenly he was on his knees, swiping the book from her hands. He had only seconds to revel in her startled mien before she lunged after him. It was his own laughter that was his undoing. Astonished by the pure abandon of the sound he lost his balance, halting Kat's own precarious movement until she half-fell into his lap. With one hand planted by his knee she tilted her chin up, deep, blue eyes swirling with disorientation and something else he missed as her gaze dropped. His eyes dragged back to meet hers, almost certain she had been watching his lips to. She was close. So close, his heart had stopped. Her breath ghosted his lower lip. His hand reached to cup her cheek-
BANG!
Neil tumbled into the room, almost taking the door off its hinges with the violence of his passion. They jumped apart. Her book tumbled from his grip, landing soundlessly between them on the quilt. Charlie cursed under his breath. Neil's tirade on Knox's stupidity was drowned into mime by his stuttering heart. Faintly, he registered the wild gesticulations that should elicit his amusement, but he was too immersed in Kat.
Knelt with her palms flat on the covers, she was as still as the sculpted women in his Mother's garden. Only the slight blush fading from her cheeks seemed real. Each time Neil paused to gulp for breath she made noises of agreement. And just like that, they were back to just friends.
* 'Learn to win a lady's faith...' The Lady's Yes,' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1844)
* Lady Audley's Secret, Mary Elizabeth Braddon (1862)
* 'the new Roswell hysteria' - Refers to the 'Roswell Incident' in New Mexico, USA in 1947 when the crash of an Army Air Forces balloon sparked UFO conspiracies as many claimed it was a flying saucer crash covered up by the government