Echoes of Pemberley (6 page)

“And do you think my manners need correcting?”

“Maybe you should ask Clancy that question.”

“Clancy!” she repeated incredulously, but then remembered snapping at him for not having her horse saddled. Still, who was Sean Kelly to reprimand her? And furthermore, it wasn’t Clancy’s opinion she wanted. Narrowing her eyes, she raised her chin in challenge and stated boldly, “I asked you.”

Sean Kelly’s mother may have been English but he was an Irishman from his flat cap to his boots, meaning he had been blessed with a fire in his temperament that would only be harnessed for so long. Be damned the job and be damned his tuition; all he wanted to do was to drag Miss Catie Darcy off that bloody horse of hers and send her walking back to the stables . . . her pedestal in hand.

He took a deep, purposeful breath, but it did him no good. So he again pulled his horse alongside hers and said, “What I think, Miss Catie, is that despite the efforts of my good aunt and your guardians, you have turned out spoiled, insolent, and selfish, with a complete disregard for the feelings of others. And I also
think
, since you asked, that it would serve you greatly to take a good long turn over the knee!” Sean pulled his horse about, kicked the animal into a quick gallop, and headed down field.

Shocked, Catie remained still. Unable to do anything else, she just sat there and watched him ride off. In less than a minute he reached the end of the field and turned back in her direction. He raised his arm and lowered it. Catie reached back to thwack Chloe’s rump but realized she held no crop. Exhaling her frustration in a loud garbled unladylike spew, she pulled back her hand and slapped the beast on its hindquarters with all of her might.

Although it wasn’t a fast or graceful gallop, she quickly arrived at the other end of the field. Catie stared at him hard but remained silent. He, however, spoke as if nothing had taken place.

“You are not adopting a forward seat,” he said in his sternest voice.

“Excuse me?”

“A forward seat, it’s why you feel awkward and uncomfortable with the gallop. Next time I want you start slow then spring forward and hover over your saddle as if you were going to make a jump.”

“Mr. Kelly — ”

“That’s enough for today,” he interrupted her then stated matter-of-factly, “We’ll resume tomorrow at three.” Sean turned his horse around and cantered off in the opposite direction of the stables.

“Where are you going?” she called out after him.

“My work day is finished, Miss Catie, if that’s what you are worried about,” he called out, not looking back at her.

“But . . . I’m not allowed to ride alone.” Catie hated how childish her voice sounded, but she didn’t want to be left alone with a horse, even if it was good-natured Chloe.

He stopped now and turned his horse to face her. “We are less than a half mile from the stables, and I have watched you for well over an hour now. Your skills in riding, Miss Catie, are better than you think.”
It’s your skills with people that need work
. The latter he wisely kept to himself. “I wouldn’t send you back alone otherwise.” Sean mockingly tipped his cap to her and took off once again.

Catie watched the departing horse and rider until they were completely out of sight. Chloe became restless and pranced gently under her. “Shhh, girl.” She patted the horse and to her relief, Chloe calmed. Catie looked once more in the direction Sean Kelly had gone and then carefully slid from her saddle to the ground.

Sean reined in his horse and looked back over his shoulder. He had ridden a good distance, far enough that Catie Darcy had disappeared into the landscape as if the ground had simply opened up and swallowed her. “Bloody hell! Bloody hell!” He cursed himself for caring, cursed Catie Darcy for those damn eyes of hers, and then turned his horse back to make sure she arrived safely at the stables.

When she came into sight again he drew up and stared at her in disbelief. “Why is she walking?” he asked out loud as if hearing the words might make better sense of why Catie Darcy was leading her horse on foot. Now heading in the direction of home, his mount was growing anxious to be back at the stable and snorted loudly in protest of stopping. “No oats for you yet, mate,” he scolded the animal and steered him up into a dense patch of Scots pine.

Taking the steep rougher terrain, he was quickly ahead of her and watched from a rocky outcrop as she came up the horse path to the stables. Sean put a hand to the horse’s nose to discourage any further snorts that might expose him. As she grew nearer, he heard sniffing and faint sobs. Then she stopped and he held his breath, fearing she had seen him. Sean swallowed hard as he watched her raise her hand and wipe her cheeks. He closed his eyes and then looked once more, but his eyes had not deceived him. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were rimmed red. “You’re an arse, Seany,” he whispered to himself and then for good measure added, “a real arse.”

* * *

As she soaked in the tub with a wet cloth over her face, Catie slowly drifted to the edge of consciousness. Her tears were gone but the emotion that had been her undoing still hung heavy in her chest.

“Miss Catie,” Annie called from the other side of the door, startling her back to reality. “You left your dressing gown on your bed. May I come in?”

“Yes, Annie . . . I’m finished.”

The door opened and Annie stepped in. As Catie had long since grown too old for a nanny, Annie had, for several years now, attended to her needs when she was home from school. Annie had recently married a groundskeeper by the name of Mark Philips and now lived in one of the estate’s tied cottages. The Darcys had even hosted their wedding reception at Pemberley last summer. This wasn’t unusual; times had changed dramatically since the old manor was first built. And since Pemberley no longer required the army of workers it once did, Ben and Sarah Darcy were much more intimate with their small devoted staff

Annie hung the dressing gown within reach and asked, “Will there be anything else this evening, Miss Catie?”

“No,” came from behind the wet cloth.

Annie couldn’t help but smile at the bubble-covered young woman whom she had watched transform from a child over the last couple of years. “I will leave you then. Oh, Mr. Darcy wanted me to tell you that supper is going to be upstairs tonight.”

A corner of the cloth was lifted. “Is he to be out?”

“No, Miss Catie, he’s in,” Annie replied and shut the door behind her.

It wasn’t like Ben to have dinner upstairs, and curiosity urged Catie to dry off and dress quickly. She gathered her damp heavy tresses into a ponytail and, grabbing the book she had been reading, hurried to the sitting room.

Attached to the family wing, the large but cozy lounge had been a favorite gathering place for private family evenings well before Ben and Catie Darcy were born. Although the room was slightly less grand than the formal public rooms, it was still rich in architecture with large mullioned windows that faced the lake and intricate moldings that crowned a high ceiling. But this was a place for children. Large comfortable chairs and a floral print sofa tossed with pillows sat under the spread of lamplight, and a television sat on a chest in the corner.

Catie could hear squealing and laughter as she approached the door and pushed it open to find Ben on his hands and knees, with two spirited riders atop his back. The twins jumped off their father and scampered wildly over to her.

“Daddy is a horsey, Auntie!” Geoffrey said boisterously, and George followed, mimicking his brother’s every word.

“I can see that,” said Catie, giving Ben a quelling look. She knew Sarah wouldn’t be pleased to see them so rowdy that close to bedtime.

“Right,” Ben answered her unspoken warning and told the boys to turn on the television.

Looking at her brother, Catie had a sudden desire to rush crying into his arms and seek his comfort. But she wasn’t a little girl any longer, too big now to climb up into his lap and be coddled like a child.

“You all right, Sis?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” she breathed softly as she fell into her usual spot on the sofa and opened her book.

“How did it go?” Ben sat down at her feet and snatched the book from her hands to have her full attention.

“Where is Sarah, and why are we eating in here?” replied his sister, avoiding his question.

“She had some errands in the village and is bringing supper home.”

“But why are we eating — ”

“Catherine Elizabeth,” he interrupted her. “
How
did your riding lesson go?”

“Oh.” Catie looked at him and considered. It would be easy to tell him the truth about her afternoon — how Sean Kelly had spoken to her. Ben might even go have a word with him. But then again, what had the man said that wasn’t true? It was that realization that had brought her to tears in the first place. It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard similar accusations before. Remarks about her behavior had often been whispered behind the gossiping hands of maids or grumbled under a nanny’s breath. But Sean Kelly was the first ever to say such things to her face. “Good, Ben . . . jolly good,” she assured her brother as convincingly as possible, determined to handle the young Irishman herself.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled. “I was worried. Sarah said you weren’t getting on with Rose’s nephew very well.”

A smile curled up one side of her mouth as she teased her way out of the conversation. “He’s just . . . you know . . . bossy like the rest of your lot.”

“Oh, is that so!” He laughed.

“Yes, it is.” Grinning, she reached over and snatched her book back. Catie loved when they could be brother and sister like this. They so often now forgot to be the siblings they once were.

Ben stared at her for a moment. “You know, Catie. I’d love it if you would take a ride with me next Monday. I haven’t been ’round to see all the crops yet, and there are several tenants I haven’t called on in over a month. Plus,” he added, tapping her knee affectionately, “it would be nice if you and I were to spend some time together.”

“I’d like that.” Catie smiled at him as Sarah came through the door, arms loaded and smelling of chicken curry.

“Ah, here’s our supper!” Ben jumped up to help her, and the commotion of dinner quickly commenced.

An hour later, the calm of evening had settled over the room, and everyone was busy with their individual diversions. Catie was again on the sofa with her book. Sarah was in the large chair by the window with a child on each knee reading a bedtime story, while Ben, seated at the opposite end of the sofa, had his head buried in the newspaper. Catie admired him momentarily. Bennet Darcy was her first love. So young, dashing, and handsome, she had resolutely planned on marrying him until about the age of six when she grew old enough to realize the impossibility of it.

The question is: Why would she want to marry him? Ben was always serious and deliberate, nothing like their spirited, adventurous father. Ben made her behave as a child when their father didn’t. He was much stricter and harder to please. But that was probably the root of Catie’s infatuation with her brother. Most women prefer a man who challenges them. Even little women, who can’t tie their shoes yet, enjoy a rambunctious clash of wills. Catie forever strived to earn his praise or gain his attention, but sometimes, like now, she just preferred to sit and study him. She often wondered if he was more like their mother in personality, and if so, what sort of relationship would she have had with her?

Seemingly bored with the news, Ben laid the paper on his lap and studied his hands for a moment while twisting his wedding band. Catie had seen him do that before. When he was worried or bothered he would unconsciously turn the golden ring. It was as if he found comfort simply by touching the object. He sighed heavily, restlessly even, and then turned toward the window, propping his chin on his knuckles.

A few minutes later Geoffrey and George scrambled over to say good night and temporarily broke their father’s meditation. But as soon as they were gone, Ben again turned his thoughts to the now dark windowpanes.

He’s troubled, Catie thought, suddenly ashamed. She had been so caught up in her own childish problems that she had completely forgotten about Ben’s encounter in front of the house that afternoon with the man named Sams. It must be some serious matter, certainly more serious than her not ‘getting on’ well with Rose’s nephew. “Selfish,” Sean Kelly had accused her of being. She frowned at the thought and called out to her brother, “Bennet!”

With a visible start, Ben turned from the window and looked at her. “Yes, Catie?”

“Is something the matter?”

“No, dearest, nothing’s the matter,” he said as he folded the newspaper and set it aside. He crossed the room to Sarah, kissed her and whispered, “I’ll be in my study if you should need me. It may be late before I come to bed. Good night, Sis,” he added on his way out.

Catie, however, wasn’t so willing to drop the subject. “If nothing is the matter, then why are you going to your study at this late hour?” Her question stopped him at the door, and he turned and gave her a look that made Catie realize a little too late that she had tread too heavily on her brother’s steadfast reserve.

“You’re right, Catherine, the hour is late, so say good night to Sarah and be off to your bed.”