Echoes of Pemberley (43 page)

The Kelly brothers also seemed in better spirits knowing their aunt was finally on the mend. Catie watched from the window as they played football on the lawn. Although they taunted and teased each other relentlessly, there was a real sense of family among them. It occurred to Catie that the brothers might very well fight to the death for one of their own. Mr. Kelly soon joined his sons, bringing Geoffrey and George along. Fresh air, the man believed, was the key to health and long life. Mr. Kelly definitely put more value on a game of football than schoolbooks, just one of the many areas in which he and her brother didn’t see eye to eye. Catie caught herself laughing out loud at her nephews and would have given almost anything to be outside with them. But instead she sighed away her wishful thinking and returned to her schoolwork.

Because Catie was nearly two days behind in her studies, Sarah sent her back to the library after supper to finish an essay on the French Revolution. Having Sarah for an instructor was not the cakewalk Catie had thought it would be, but she knew her sister had done her a favor and didn’t complain. An hour into her assignment, the library door opened, and Sean walked in. She took an uneasy breath. Had he come to try and talk to her again, she wondered. She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to deny him a second time.

“I don’t mean to bother you,” he said, “but Mrs. Darcy told me I could look for a book to read to Joseph before he goes to sleep. I believe he’s missing his mam at bedtime.”

“Help yourself,” Catie replied and returned to flipping aimlessly through an encyclopedia.

“Uh . . . ” he uttered, and she looked back up. “Children’s books?”

“Under the window, so children can reach them.” With the end of her pen, Catie pointed to the low sitting bookcase.

“Ah, makes sense.”

As he crouched, searching the shelves, Catie watched him. Watched his fingers trace the book bindings, watched his brows knit as he pulled one out, looked it over and slid it carefully back into position.

“What do you think of
The Jungle Book
?” He looked up suddenly.

Embarrassed, she dropped her head. “Hmm?” she murmured, never lifting her eyes.

“I said.” He came closer to her, chuckling. “What do you think of
The Jungle Book
?”

“I think it is perfect,” she said smartly. “Wee Joseph will no doubt associate with Mowgli quite well.”

Sean leaned over the table and flashed that wicked gypsy grin of his. “Are you saying he has wolves for brothers?”

“Not necessarily. I’m sure any wild animal would sufficiently describe his brothers.”

In retaliation, he snatched her paper and perused it with a professorial stroke of his chin. “Humph, seems to me you have forgotten a very important battle, young lady.”

“I have not!” Catie took the paper defensively.

“You most certainly have! The Battle of Lodi on May 10
^th
in 1796. You mention Napoleon’s marriage to Josephine on March 9
^th
of that year but omitted Italy.”

“I did not
omit
Italy! Napoleon wrote Josephine some very romantic love letters from Italy.”

Sean’s face scrunched. “And what does
that
have to do with the Revolution?”

“Everything to Josephine, I would presume.”

“Josephine was ruthless. She only married Napoleon to keep from being tossed out in the streets and regularly entertained other gentlemen while he was in Italy. The Battle of Lodi on the other hand was pivotal to Napoleon’s career. If I were your teacher, I would hand that essay back to you in shreds!”

“Well, fortunately, you aren’t!” She met his eyes straight on and then looked hastily away.

Taking his book, Sean strutted from the library shaking his head. “
Love
letters?”

* * *

When nurses began to come away from Rose’s room rolling their eyes, it became clear the woman was rapidly on the mend.

“This is the most uncomfortable bed a body has ever been forced to lie down in!” she declared to Dr. MacAndrews on more than one occasion, along with similar complaints about the food, dust on the blinds, temperature of her room and so on and so forth. In response, Dr. MacAndrews finally came to the conclusion that releasing his patient to the comforts of home would be most beneficial to her recovery.

A chilly, autumn drizzle fell lightly on the house Friday morning, but it couldn’t dampen the spirits of Rose’s homecoming. With great anticipation the Darcys and Kellys waited on the steps under umbrellas to welcome her, waving and cheering at the approaching car.

“Look at all of you out in this weather!” Rose fussed, though she was smiling ear to ear as Ben helped her out of the car.

“As you see we’ve kept Pemberley standing in your absence.” Ben gestured to the house. “However we’re bloody well glad you’re back!”

“And I’m bloody well glad to be back!” She stopped and took the time to look around at each of their faces. “Well, are we going to stand out here in the cold and rain and catch our death or shall we go inside?”

Catie laughed. Her Nan was home for sure.

It was inevitable, however, that this good fortune would mean the departure of the Kelly family. It was like waiting for a balloon to pop, and Catie didn’t have to wait long. At supper Mr. Kelly took his last bite and folded his napkin. “The boys and I are booked on the ferry home tomorrow.” Sarah made a move to argue, but he put up a hand to stop her. “I’m more than appreciative for the gracious hospitality you’ve shown my family, but I must get back to Kells Down. There’s hay to store and . . . ” he paused and smiled at Ben. “Well, as I’m sure you understand . . . the
ands
go on and on.”

“I understand completely,” Ben said. “It has been a pleasure having you . . . all of you.”

“Yes,” Sarah seconded. “The house will not be the same when you are gone.”

Catie felt her heart thump hard in her chest as she listened.
Sean was leaving again
. Of course she knew he was going to leave, eventually. But she wasn’t ready . . . not yet. When he went away so unexpectedly last summer, they never said goodbye. How could she tell Sean Kelly goodbye? He was leaving tomorrow, and she would probably never see him again.

“Emma,” Mr. Kelly continued, “would like to stay on for a couple more weeks to see her sister through the remainder of her recovery, if that’s all right with you, missus?”

“Emma is welcome for as long as she wishes to stay,” Sarah assured him.

“Aye, then our Seany will stay too and see his mother home. It wouldn’t be possible for me to come back and fetch her meself.”

Catie released a breath, not realizing she had been holding it. Not tomorrow . . . not yet.

A toast was offered to Rose’s improved health. Forsaking their usual “cheers,” the Darcys called out the Gaelic “
slàinte
” in respect of their Irish guests, and with glasses raised, the Kellys boisterously rang back, “
slàinte
!”

In honor of Rose’s homecoming, the two very different families celebrated together that evening. Rose was made comfortable on a sofa in the music room as she listened to a performance by Catie and Mr. Kelly, and then laughed until it hurt when the Kelly brothers joined their father in singing “The Star of County Down
.
”

Catie noticed Ben took out his finest Scotch, by far the best means for gauging his feelings towards someone. She knew her brother didn’t share all of Seamus Kelly’s opinions, but Ben Darcy had come to like the Irishman. Mr. Kelly was an honest, hardworking man, and Catie knew Ben respected that.

When she finally went to bed that night she was still wearing a smile. She would miss the rowdy Kelly boys with their untamed ways. Never had Pemberley been so alive with music and ruckus. As she lay in what seemed like deafening silence, waiting for sleep, her mind did what it so often did . . . recalled the soft blue eyes of Sean Kelly.

Chapter 27

As Sarah predicted, Pemberley took on an eerie quiet after the greater part of the Kelly clan departed. Catie was up early each morning to visit with Rose before starting her schoolwork. The sisters had their breakfast in the sitting room of Rose’s apartment, and Catie found great enjoyment in sipping coffee as she listened to Emma and Rose reminisce. They told tales of childhood antics and youthful romantic courtships that kept Catie both laughing and gasping in equal turn. The two, it seemed, had been quite the favorites among the young gentlemen during their heyday.

Even Sarah, after getting Geoffrey and George off to school, would frequently get caught up in a tale of a former lover. Then she would notice the time and hastily shoo Catie to the library before Ben noticed that his wife and sister had whiled away a whole morning over coffee, tea, and female prattle.

Not being able to stand the idleness, Sean helped at the stables or did other odd jobs to keep busy. It was the least he could do for the kindness the Darcys had shown his family. He had heard his father make numerous offers to compensate Mr. Darcy for his generous hospitality. Seamus Kelly was in no way ignorant to the cost of hosting such a large family for a week, and his sons’ healthy appetites only increased what was already an undue burden. Bennet Darcy, however, refused any offer of reimbursement, explaining that no amount of money could ever repay the loyalty and devotion Rose had given his family.

“My father relied greatly on Rose after my mother died,” Ben had told Seamus one evening, chuckling in his remembrance. “Catie wouldn’t allow anyone else to feed her when she was a babe, and ‘Nanny Wose’ were the first words the little moppet spoke. And I dare say . . . ” Ben’s expression grew as grim as his voice. “Rose Todd was the glue that held Catie and me together after Dad died.”

Sean saw that Mr. Darcy’s words were sincere, and he began to reconsider his judgment of Bennet Darcy last summer. He was just a man after all; doing what all men did — what he thought best for his loved ones.

The night under the fireworks stayed with Catie like a nagging, lingering cough, but at least the distress she felt in Sean’s company slowly eased as the days lined up behind them. She often joined him and his mother in Rose’s sitting room after supper to play cards, work a jigsaw puzzle, or watch television by the glow of a warm fire. No, she hadn’t forgiven him, but her desire to be close to him was stronger than her resentment. If she were to be honest with herself, she still loved him, might always love him. It occurred to Catie that, like Rose and Mrs. Kelly’s stories of lovers past, she might one day sit and tell her daughter about the summer she fell in love with her riding instructor, the summer of her first broken heart.

She mused over these thoughts as she and Sean struggled over the last pieces of a one thousand piece picturesque scene of England’s coastline. In the puzzle the sun was shining and teams of sea aster bloomed on the shore, while outside a driving October wind circled the house, creating a sorrowful howl that rattled windows.

“Gracious, what a night,” Emma said, tightening the sash and drawing the curtains. She leaned over her son’s shoulder and pointed to a prospective puzzle piece. “Try that one, Seany.”

He shook his head. “I did.”

“Try turning it, Son.” She patted him and sat back down beside her sister.

“Ah.” He smiled over at his mother. “Thanks, Ma.”

From the music room, the old grandfather clock chimed the nine o’clock hour. Its late eighteenth century mahogany case was inlaid with musical instruments, a reminder for children not to neglect their practice. The nine solid gongs echoed throughout the house like the familiar voice of an old friend. On the final bell Maggie came in to collect the tea things, as if the old clock had summoned her.

“Oh, Mrs. Todd!” Maggie cried out as she put away Rose’s medicines.

“It’s Rose, Maggie. I’ve told you a hundred times,” she admonished.

“Yes, ma’am, but Mrs. . . . er . . . Rose.”

“Yes, Maggie.”

“Please tell me you didn’t take this yellow pill after you ate.”

“I’m not sure, Maggie. I reckon I did. Emma?” Rose turned to her sister.

“Um-hmm,” Emma said, giving Rose an accusing eye. “She was supposed to take it earlier but forgot.
So I just put it out with the evening pills.”

“But, Mrs. Kelly, this pill has to be taken on an empty stomach. Mrs. Todd must take the yellow one at least two hours before she eats.” When Maggie finished speaking it was as if she just took notice of her own voice. She blushed profusely and returned to clearing the teacups, which clanged unmercifully under her trembling hands.

“Thank you, child,” Rose said kindly, trying to ease Maggie’s anxiety. “Emma and I will be more careful.”

Maggie’s concern over Rose’s medicine made Catie remember the aspirin. “Nan, did you know that Maggie practically saved your life? Dr. MacAndrews said so. I had completely forgotten about it until now.”

“That’s impressive, Maggie,” Sean said.