Chapter 8

"This dinner is going to be miserable."

Phileas made the statement on the way to pick up Katharine and knew the truth when he walked into Lady Buchnam's house. Eleanor had been held at home, the reason wasn't made clear; but had bid them to enjoy themselves and give the hostess her regrets.

Poor chance of that.

The other guests were a who's who in government service. There were several department secretaries in attendance, a few members of Parliament, some former ambassadors and several career bureaucrats of the sort that kept the wheels of government turning. Fogg knew none of them, but had nodding acquaintanceships with several.

This throng, with the customary bows and slack jaws that followed a woman of her beauty, had greeted Rebecca enthusiastically. The green dress she wore was quite fetching. He then wondered how many mistaken fools would send him requests for her company in the days to follow. He was technically Rebecca's guardian since his father's death, but they paid scarce attention to the fact. Rebecca had always been her own woman.

Katharine, dressed in an equally flattering gown of deep blue silk, and seemed to know everyone in the room, their offices and even a little personal information. Phileas wondered aloud to her how she could know so much while spending so little time in London. She brushed it off as what she called hostess training at Eleanor's hand. That had made a kind of sense and had verified old gossip. Eleanor was reputed to know every person of consequence in the realm and all their secrets. She could be a devastating blow to government and state security if an enemy ever captured her.

All of those Katharine came in contact with treated her with the deference of a visiting head of state. Was this because of her wealth and title, or her connection to Eleanor?

She was also getting her share of male appreciation. It was given in a more covert manner since he was her escort and not a relative, as Rebecca was. He was noticing and appreciating her, too. Katharine's hair picked up the gaslights and showed red highlights like little tongues of flame. Not like the conflagration that was Rebecca's hair, but with the appeal of a low burning fire. Phileas had to smile a bit in male pride as he saw the envy in several eyes at his luck at being the escort of two such beauties.

Dinner was served after a round robin of meeting, greeting. It was delicious. His place at the table had been set between Rebecca and Katharine, so the old gentleman across from him, who was infuriated by the last vote on tariffs, was the only one of the other guests to speak with him. Phileas never learned which tariff he objected to so strongly.

After dinner, the ladies excused themselves to the salon while the gentleman tarried over drinks and cigars. The conversation centered on politics and this session's debates, and never changed. Phileas was bored unto tears by the time they joined the ladies.

There could be no intimate talk at the end of the evening with such a large group. Instead, the guests separated into smaller groups for card games and a continuation of earlier discourse. Fogg had been about to decide which would be the least painful; a game of whist with amateurs or another ear full of complaining about the government's ineptitudes.

Phileas felt a light pressure on his sleeve. A lady he did not know had walked up beside him. She was small and blonde with blue eyes and delicate features, overall very typical of upper class nobility in appearance. Fogg smiled at her graciously. Had she bumped me?

She smiled back and made a gesture toward the French doors at the right end of the room. Through the curtains, Phileas saw Rebecca beacon him. Phileas thanked the messenger and made his escape.

Outside, he found both ladies and three glasses of wine around a small tea table with comfortable-looking chairs. The night had become cool but comfortable outdoors. The light from the inner room and the streetlamps off to the right were giving them enough illumination to see each other clearly.

"Which of you do I owe this escape?"

Rebecca tilted her head to indicate Katharine.

"They will never miss us," Katharine assured him. "I have come out here after several of Lady Buchnam's parties."

Phileas took her hand and bowed over it. "My most deeply felt thanks, my lady.

"I believe you have a tale to tell?" Katharine said.

"Yes, our meeting that I have had the bad manners to forget?" Phileas sat down in the offered chair.

"It happened when I was thirteen."

Slowly, Katharine unfolded the story in her own words. When she came to the part about the older boys showing up after she and her cousins had begun.

Phileas remembered and took it over from his point of view. He had been invited to the family estate of James Stratton with a group of friends from Cambridge. It had been a weeklong break in studies featuring a hunting party with other entertainments. They had had a fair time despite their host's frustrations. James had, at every turn, taken exception to all the children in attendance. They could not get away from them. The children had been in the hills riding, in town when they had gone shopping… Even at the country fair. Phileas himself had no problem with them, but James had been an impatient sort that had not cared for any inconvenience, and to him, the children had been a nuisance. What seemed to bother him most had been that they were not even his family. A group of guests from Scotland had brought seven or more children from nine to fifteen years of age.

"That afternoon, James had led us to the skeet range for a little shooting, but as luck would have it, the Scottish children had beaten them there," Phileas said. "James didn't want to wait and tried to run them off. He made a few derogatory comments. The children heard but did not run crying."

He and his friends had all laughed at the child who offered the challenge and had questioned his ability to back it up. When the boy threw it back at them, they found themselves in a standoff. Phileas had been for going elsewhere, but James wasn't having it.

"Then, suddenly, everyone was looking at me. I didn't want to get caught up in it, but James insisted."

"You are the gambler of the group, and the best shot," James said. "She is just a little girl. This will be easy."

"I relented on the stipulation that if I lost, James had to pay off. What had sounded like a sure thing turned into a serious competition. When the little brown-haired girl made her first shot, I knew I had been had. You must have been shooting since you were old enough to hold a shotgun off the ground."

Katharine smiled brightly, telling him the truth of it.

"An older relative joined the children halfway into the game. Not a happy one," Phileas said. "I saw him whisper in your ear. You were upset by what he said. I thought for a moment he was going to force a forfeit. Later, my last shot missed, and I gave you your due."

He remembered her meeting him halfway to congratulate him on the fine match. The little lady had held her hand out to shake his, which he automatically did, but then gave the little Diana her proper tribute, and kissed her hand. The girl blushed prettily.

"I had forgotten your name," Phileas admit said, coming to the end. "So sorry."

"I did not forget yours," Katharine said. "You are the only green-eyed Phileas I had ever met then and since."

"What did you two children do with your winnings?" Rebecca asked.

"Cousin Daniel held it for us until the Highland Games later that month. He took us, and believe me, we had a truly wonderful day!"

"With twenty-nine pounds in your pockets, no doubt," Rebecca laughed.

On the other side of the route-iron fence, the three heard a carriage making its way to the front of the house, then another. The guests inside were leaving. It was time they did, too.

Phileas gathered his charges and headed back into the house. They made their goodbyes to the hostess and left. When the coach reached Eleanor's home, Phileas saw Katharine to the door. "Thank you for the good company, and the recollections," Fogg said.

"You're welcome," Katharine returned. "Rebecca and I were planning to see a play together tomorrow afternoon." There was a moment's pause. "Would you like to come with us?"

"No, no, I would not want to intrude."

"Not at all," she said. "Not unless Rebecca has an objection. Please, come with us? I do not know if Rebecca told you, but my family is very fussy about my going out without an escort. A thing already done several times on this trip. It would be helpful to me if I could start saying I was abiding by their wishes. It is a silly thing, but they are quite strict."

"I understand," Phileas said, not understanding at all. This lady was not a child. Escorts usually would have been stopped for years by the time a woman reached her age. In the city, it was customary to have an Abigail in attendance when doing one's shopping, but not during outings with friends. "I would be happy to be of service, my lady."

"Please, I have already given Rebecca leave to use my name. Please do so as well. We are not strangers anymore." With that, she opened the door and made her final, "Goodbye Phileas."

"Good night my–Katharine."

With a nod, she shut the door, leaving Phileas to return to the carriage.

Phileas told Rebecca as the coach drove off, "I have been invited to join you ladies on your trip to the theater tomorrow; any objections?"

She gave him a surprised look but gave a negative shake of the head.

"What is this about her having to have an escort wherever she goes?" He said. "You have talked to her. How much has she told you of her background?"

Rebecca related everything she could recall about life on an island in Scotland, as well as what Katharine had said about her comings and goings and accommodations for simple shopping trips. "It seemed rather ridiculous to me."

"And to me," Phileas agreed. "I know Scottish traditions are strict, but not by that much. I may get pressed into more than an occasional dinner date now that she and I are acquainted. Playing escort when the two of you are together, I do not mind," he said, "but I would like to know why such restrictions would be placed on a woman of her age and obvious maturity."

Phileas Fogg would later regret making that request of fate.