Echoes of Pemberley (17 page)

Finally looking up, the girl replied, “G’day, Miss Darcy.”

She was taller than Catie and very slender. Her face was pretty, but clearly the two girls had traveled very different roads since the days of playing together on the small lawn. Her tight jeans were worn and the words on her t-shirt had faded. Catie glanced down to keep from staring and noticed that Maggie’s frayed shoe laces only filled the eyelets half way up. For the first time in her life, Catie Darcy felt uncomfortable in her expensive clothes, and she couldn’t help but think what a sight she and her brother must be in their fine breeches and shiny boots.

“How old are you, Maggie?” Ben asked.

“A month from eighteen, sir,” she answered softly.

Ben looked back to Mr. Reid. “I will speak to my wife. Management of the house is her jurisdiction. A married man yourself, I need not tell you what risk a man takes trespassing on a woman’s domain. But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Aye, Benny, that’s much appreciated, lad.”

Ben smiled at the man. “Cheers, Mr. Reid . . . Maggie.” He motioned for Catie to take the lead out of the narrow gate.

After Ben hoisted her into her saddle, Catie stole another long glance at Maggie Reid while waiting for him to mount Geronimo.

“What happened to Mr. Reid?” she asked as soon as they had started down the lane, away from the house.

“Farming accident.”

“Did he work for Daddy?”

“He did. For about ten years Mr. Reid ran this estate. He answered to Dad, everyone else answered to him. He was Dad’s steward, his right hand man until he was injured.” Ben smiled as he remembered. “I used to ride alongside him on my pony from the time I was about the twins’ age.”

“You did?”

“Mm-hmm, Mr. Reid taught me almost everything I know about farming.” Ben chuckled. “He also gave me more hidings than I’d care to own up to.”

Catie was surprised. “You? What for?”

“Oh, many things really, I was a boy once, Sis, and not always a well behaved one, I’m ashamed to admit. One time . . . ” He stopped and glanced apprehensively over at her. “Never mind.”

“Oh, tell me, please, Ben. I must hear it.”

He laughed. “Well, all right then, but I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone.” She nodded, so he continued, “Once a mate and I, bored I guess, let the cows out of the pasture to block traffic on the highroad. Then we entertained ourselves by throwing cowpats at the stopped vehicles. That is until Mr. Reid came along on his tractor and chased us into the field and up a tree.”

“Did he come up the tree after you?” she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“No.” Ben shook his head. “He just waited for us to climb down.”

“And he thrashed you . . . both of you?”

Shifting in his saddle, Ben seemed to wince at the memory. “Soundly, Catie, quite soundly.”

She laughed out loud. “What did Dad say?”

“If I remember correctly, I believe he slapped Mr. Reid on the back and said, ‘Good man, Reid,’ and sent me to bed without my supper.”

Catie’s laugh intensified, and after a mocking glare at the enjoyment she was having at his misfortune, Ben joined her.

“Why do you not have a steward?” she finally asked.

“I just prefer to handle my affairs myself,” he answered quietly, as they both fell into a tired silence, with only the music of the wind soughing through the trees and the clopping of the horses to see them home.

Within half an hour they were back by the river. Ben pulled Geronimo to a stop. “I’ll be back directly,” he said as he jumped to the ground. “I must stretch my legs a bit.”

Catie giggled and shook her head. Strangely, ‘stretching his legs’ always involved him disappearing into the woods for a few minutes, and she couldn’t help but be amused by her brother’s unyielding discretion.

Tired, her mouth stretched into a full yawn, which she made no attempt to cover for propriety’s sake. She removed her riding hat to let the wind cool her head and, lifting her face to the sun, closed her eyes. The sounds of the river had all but entranced her when a strange noise snapped her head back to attention. Now with acute eyes and ears, she listened and almost instantly heard the sound again. Initially, Catie thought it an animal but, by the third cry, she was convinced it was the screams of a woman.

She called for Ben several times, but he didn’t answer or reappear. Another scream, coming distinctly from ahead of her, and she urged Chloe into a quick canter. “Go now, off girl.”

Around the bend was the small dirt lane that led to the Ledfords’ cottage. She could hear voices, angry and loud. Catie hesitated. But what if someone was hurt? She glanced back once more, still no sign of Ben, so she started up the road.

Stepping out of the woods, Ben was surprised not to see his sister waiting for him. Being so close to the rushing water, he had not heard her call for him. Her riding hat lay on the ground, and he stooped to pick it up. He glanced up the path and soon heard the same cries and screams. “My God!” he exclaimed, tossing the hat down and hastily mounting his horse. He and Geronimo were fast around the bend where the sight he came upon brought him to an abrupt stop, possibly in the hopes that his eyes were deceiving him. Catie was more than halfway up the lane to the Ledfords’ and clearly the commotion, whatever it was, lay ahead of her.

“Damn it, Catie!” Ben cursed her foolishness and kicked the horse back into a fast, hard gallop.

Reaching the edge of the garden, Catie froze in fear. Before her was a very different scene than the domestic serenity from earlier. The laundry, which had been so neatly hung, now lay scattered over the lawn and several pots and dishes lay amongst the clutter. Amidst this disarray were the Ledfords, having a rather heated row.

Yelling angrily, Mr. Ledford grabbed his wife by the neck of her housedress. The woman screamed, and Catie noticed there was blood in the corner of her mouth and one eye was beginning to swell. Mr. Ledford drew back his hand, and Catie gasped as he struck his wife so hard she lost her feet.

Once she was on the ground, he slowly and deliberately unbuckled his belt from his trousers and pulled it off with one swift jerk. The sliding, hissing sound of the belt seemed to slice into Catie’s gut. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound of Geronimo’s hooves forced her attention back to the road. Ben was off of his horse almost before the steed came to a complete stop.

“Ride off! Now!” he shouted.

“But, Ben!” Catie cried back, frightened.

He half-turned back in her direction. “You will do as I say! Now be gone!” he shouted again, pointing a finger at her as if to stress his threat.

Catie tried to leave, but it wasn’t an easy scene to turn away from. Paying no heed to his audience, Mr. Ledford had begun to violently whip his wife.

“Stop!” Ben demanded several times, but Ledford was white with rage and ignored him.

Ben tried wresting the belt from Mr. Ledford’s hand and in the scuffle the strap wrapped around Ben’s neck with a loud smack. Ben flinched, but it was the advantage he needed. With a quick snatch, he jerked the belt from Mr. Ledford’s grip.

Knowing he stood no chance against the taller, more solid Ben Darcy, Mr. Ledford took a cautious step back.

“Bloody coward!” Ben roared and flung the strap across the yard. “You’ll not fight a man?”

Not liking the commotion, Chloe pranced nervously underneath Catie. “Steady on, girl.” She patted the horse as a tiny whimper caught her attention. She turned and looked down. There was the little dirty-faced girl, standing near the extinguished rubbish fire and holding a squirming fussy infant with great difficulty. Fearing the child might drop the baby, Catie slid off of her horse and took the infant from the child.

Now holding the Ledfords’ baby, with their little girl crying and clinging to her leg, Catie looked on as Ben repeatedly ordered Mr. Ledford off the property, but the man adamantly refused to leave without his wife and children.

As they quarreled, Mr. Ledford paced about like a cornered animal that might attack at any second. Catie’s mind raced. Should she go for help? But what might happen if she left Ben? At last, Mrs. Ledford made it to her feet and pleaded with her husband not to make any more trouble, promising to join him as soon as she could collect their things.

His wife’s words seemed to calm him. “I’ll just be fetching me keys then,” he said flatly and disappeared into the house.

Ben rushed over to Mrs. Ledford to check her injuries. She had taken quite a beating and stumbled several times as he tried to help her to a garden bench. Neither noticed Mr. Ledford exiting the house.

“Ben, he has a gun!” screamed Catie, eyes round with fright.

At the sound of his sister’s voice, Ben turned to her.

“Bennet, he has a gun!” she cried again, pointing frantically.

As Catie’s words rang clearer that time, Ben’s attention snapped to Ledford and to a rusty rook rifle that appeared to be older than Mr. Ledford himself. Poor condition or no, Ben knew better than to take chances on whether or not it would still fire.

“Take your hands off me wife, Darcy! You don’t own everythin’!”

“Get hold of yourself, man!” Ben shouted back as he began to position himself between the weapon and Catie. “You’re going to hurt someone!”

Ledford smiled a cruel smile that contained only a few rotting teeth then turned and aimed the weapon at Catie. “How’s it feel, Darcy? Eh? You like havin’ yours threatened?”

With the gun pointing directly at her, the alarm in Catie’s face visibly heightened. In what seemed to Ben like slow motion, she glanced over at him and then down at the baby in her arms. Then, she shut her eyes tightly and turned away from the gun.

Chapter 11

When the shot fired, a bolt of terror flashed through Catie. She expected to feel a burn, a sting, but she felt nothing. After the initial blast, a loud crack felt as if it split the fine hairs on her left ear and echoed deep in her stomach, causing her knees to buckle and give way. Without warning her legs folded in half and she fell to the earth, all the while keeping the infant in a tight hold.

The two children were wailing, but their cries sounded far off as if they were in a tunnel. There was scuffling and loud voices behind her, but shock had an iron cage over her senses. She could focus only on the ringing in her ears.

By the time it became clear that she hadn’t been shot and could make her legs work well enough to stand, Catie turned around to find Ben holding the butt of the rifle over Mr. Ledford’s bloody face. His steely eyes were fierce with a look determined to crack the man’s skull with the next blow. From beneath him, Mr. Ledford raised a trembling hand in defense.

“No, Bennet!” she cried out. “Don’t!”

Hair pasted to his head with sweat, Ben’s breath was short and ragged as he looked over at his sister. “Don’t, Brother,” she said softly. “Don’t hurt him.”

Straightening himself up, he angrily flung the gun across the yard and stumbled back a few steps. “Leave my property, Ledford!” Ben spoke the words so low and raspy they seemed to grate through his teeth. “Leave now, damn you!”

Never reaching a full upright stance, Mr. Ledford scurried to a rusting truck, which took several attempts to start, and sped off, leaving behind his wife, his crying children, and a billowing cloud of dust.

Mrs. Ledford rushed to her infant and murmured, “Bless you child,” to Catie. She took the squalling, heavy burden from Catie’s arms and, clutching her daughter’s hand, disappeared inside the house with her children.

Now alone with Ben, Catie stared at her brother. Strangely, she didn’t cry. She couldn’t. Her eyes were too dry for tears. Ben walked over and pulled her to his chest. His heart was racing, she could hear it. Taking her face in his hands, he looked upon it for some time and without a word, brought her back to his chest. So tight was his hold, her hair became damp from the perspiration seeping through his shirt. Catie heard, “
Christ
,” faintly escape the back of his throat.

Refusing medical care, the only aid Mrs. Ledford agreed to accept was transportation to her sister’s house a little over an hour away. Ben repeatedly assured her she could stay as long as she needed, but the woman politely refused, stating she would feel safer at her sister’s. That hadn’t been the first time her husband had “knocked her about,” as she called it.

Ben rang up to the house for Clark to bring a car. Clark Ferrell, Pemberley’s jack-of-all-trades, mended everything from fences to doors but also kept a clean white shirt in the kitchen in case a driver was needed. While they waited, Catie helped Mrs. Ledford gather the things that still lay scattered in the yard. It seemed odd to be folding laundry after what had just passed.

When they had finished, Mrs. Ledford took the basket of laundry inside while Catie sat on the steps with the Ledfords’ little girl perched on her knees as she introduced Catie to her favorite dolly. The car arrived and Ben came out of the cottage, stopping on his way down the steps to lift the child from his sister’s lap. “Go help your mummy,” he said tenderly as he stood her facing up the stairs. Then, with a firm grip under her arm, he brought Catie to her feet and said, “Mount up, Catherine.”

The grip and words seemed to have meaning behind them, making Catie glance cautiously at his face as she nodded.