Echoes of Pemberley (22 page)

“Oh, no, you mustn’t give him that,” Catie said. “He has more toys than any child could ever want. George, give that back to Sean.”

With a defying glare, the boy tucked the little horse behind his back.

“George,” Catie started, but Sean stopped her.

“It’s okay, really. George, you can keep it. I have many more at home.”

With this assurance, George took off running to the house before his aunt could make any further demands for the little horse’s return.

Suddenly alone, several seconds of uncomfortable silence filled the space between Sean and Catie. Fearing conversation, or rather the topic, she thanked Sean for his help with George and started to take her leave, but he reached out and gently grasped her arm. She looked at the point of his hold and raised her eyes to his.

Sean paused. He loved her eyes, the way she looked at him, sometimes over her shoulder, sometimes with a slight tilt to her head. Blue eyes with sporadic bursts of green as if God couldn’t quite decide and left them in that ambiguous state. They were enchanting. He released her arm and said a bit awkwardly, “I was just going to tell you . . . that if . . . if you want, you could come ’round early this afternoon. You know, to make up for the time you missed yesterday.”

She lowered her head and spoke to her fingers that were nervously intertwining themselves in and out of each other. “All right, I can come early.”

He struggled not to reach out and lift her face to his once again. “About two o’clock then?”

Catie nodded, so Sean turned and left.

* * *

Two o’clock on the dot Catie arrived. She went straight to the task of saddling Chloe, glancing at Sean often as he settled Thunder in his stall. When finished, she sat in the schooling ring for nearly half an hour waiting on him, beginning to get annoyed. Finally he called out from the other side of the fence. “Come along then, we’ve not got all day!”

She looked at him puzzled but urged Chloe out of the gate.

Sean hadn’t allowed her any serious riding after Catie had refused to share the reason for her fear of galloping. He hadn’t told her this exactly, but Catie was keenly aware that she had not been taken out of the schooling ring since.

They walked along in silence as the high grass of summer swayed in the breeze below them, giving Catie a light, floating sensation. She ventured a few glances at him, but their eyes always met. So she tried forcing herself to stop.

“Are we going to practice galloping?” she asked as they rode in the direction of the flats, giving her a slight spark of triumph.

“Yes, I believe if a person is brave enough to turn their back to a gun, that person should be able to pick up a little speed on a horse.”

Catie pulled Chloe to an abrupt stop. “How did you know about that?”

“Everybody knows. That story has been told over and over again the last 24 hours.” Sean pulled his horse alongside hers. “And by the way, I think it showed real
misneach
.”

Stunned, Catie asked, “
Misneach
, courage?”

“Aye.” Sean nodded, smiling.

“Maybe you feel it showed courage, but my brother didn’t. Ben only sees what I did, or didn’t do rather — never mind my reasons. God, I hate that he treats me like a child.” It felt good to complain. It felt unshackling, like talking to the tombstones.

A lopsided smile curled up Sean’s face, and his Irish accent became heavy. “Oh, stop yer gripin’, lass. Me da would have warmed the back of me britches good had I paid him no mind like that. I’d not be sittin’ so comfortable in my saddle today if I were you.”

“Don’t tease me! You said I showed courage. Did you mean it or not?”

Sean thought carefully before responding. “If I said it . . . I meant it. You did what you thought was right,
but
in the same respect so did your brother.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” Catie argued. “Either I was right or he was right!”

Narrowing his eyes, Sean moved his horse close to hers. He didn’t bear the same irritated expression he had the last time he made such an advance, but she eyed him cautiously.

“Catie Darcy, you can
not
go through life on the assumption that, as long as you are doing what is right, there will be no consequences. Not only must you choose your course of action, you must accept whatever comes of that choice. If you knew you were going to upset your brother, would you have done differently?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“There you go then.”

“Is everything so bloody simple to you . . . so black and white?” Catie rebutted crossly. “Do you find nothing complicated?”

“Oh, aye!” Sean grinned. “I find many things complicated.”

“Name one!” she demanded.

“You.”

“Me!”

“Yes, you. When I first met you, I thought you were spoiled, insolent, and selfish. But now . . . well, now I’ve discovered that you aren’t so selfish after all. It’s not very often my first impressions are wrong.”

“What about spoiled and insolent?”

Sean kicked his horse into a quick canter and began calling back instructions on the proper seat for galloping. “Remember, forward seat . . . and
hover
over the saddle . . . ”

Catie rolled her eyes, shook her head, and followed.

Chapter 14

“Bennet Darcy, I have been looking everywhere for you!” Sarah said, walking into the kitchen.

“Well, here I am.”

“Why are you down here in the kitchen?”

“I’ve come to speak with you . . . .and Rose.” He nodded to Rose, who was pouring out cups of tea.

“I was looking for you for the same reason.” She smiled, delighted. “I have something to ask you.”

Twice Ben and Sarah began speaking at the same time, but he finally conceded to his chuckling wife. “Please, go ahead.”

“I am having my ladies’ luncheon in the orangery on Friday and was hoping you would come down and say a few words. It would be the perfect venue for you to announce the reopening of Pemberley and its gardens to the public next summer.”

Ben looked appalled. “You want me to speak at a ladies’ luncheon? Indeed not! Feel free to make the announcement yourself, but I have no desire to attend a ladies’ luncheon.”

“There is no call for such condescension, Bennet! What have the fine women of Derbyshire done to deserve such an adamant rejection?”

“The fine women of Derbyshire have done nothing. I do
not
have the talent of public speaking, Sarah; you know that,
least
of all to a room full of chatty women.” Ben pulled at his collar as if it were choking him. “I have agreed to make the announcement at the garden party, nowhere else. On this matter I am fixed,” he declared with finality, hoping to avoid any further attempts at coercion.

Avoid he did but not without an exaggerated, “harrumph!” from his wife.

Rose, being the ever so diligent keeper of peace, interjected, “Did you need to speak to us about something?”

“Oh . . . yes!” He seemed to have lost focus. “I would like to recommend Mark Philips and his wife Annie to fill the Ledfords’ place. It would mean both a higher wage and a larger house for the couple. I understand they hope to start a family soon. Of course, it would also mean replacing Annie, but Mr. Reid’s daughter, Maggie, is in want of a position, and I believe she could nicely fill Annie’s post.”

Sarah and Rose immediately locked concerned eyes.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, Bennet, of course Rose and I would want nothing more than for Mark and Annie to take the other position. However . . . ” Sarah paused and glanced apprehensively at Rose.

“However what?”

“Well, Annie attends to Catie when she is home from school, and her success with your sister has been . . . extraordinary to say the least.”

“I can see no reason why Maggie can’t attend to her needs just as well,” Ben argued. “Catie no longer requires supervision.”

“Bennet, need I remind you of the number of different caregivers she has gone through over the years? Granted she is older now, but I fear this change may be a difficult one for her.”

“And for us!” Rose chimed in as Sarah nodded a worried agreement in her direction.

“Good Lord.” Ben shook his head. “You women do have a tendency to over-egg the pudding!”

“I beg your pardon.” Rose sounded as indignant as Sarah looked.

“What I meant, Rose, is . . . don’t worry so . . . ma’am,” he added the “ma’am” for good measure.

“Oh, off with you!” Rose gave Ben a pardoning shoo from the kitchen.

“Er . . . what shall I tell Mr. Reid?” he turned back from the door and asked warily.

“You can tell Mr. Reid that we women will egg the pudding as we see fit.” Sarah’s mahogany brows arched expressively.

Ben opened his mouth but then closed it, nodded, and left the kitchen.

* * *

Pemberley’s orangery was built in the early eighteen hundreds by Fitzwilliam Darcy for his wife, Elizabeth, on their fifth wedding anniversary. However, by the end of World War II, the building had fallen into disrepair. When Ben married Sarah, he had the dilapidated orangery demolished and a new one built on the sight as a wedding gift for his new wife. Gardening was as much a passion to his bride as horses were to Ben, and he thought the new orangery would be a most befitting welcome for Sarah.

The day before her luncheon, Sarah was in the orangery with two gardeners making the final touches. The long glass conservatory had the appearance of a tropical forest. The sounds of fountains permeated throughout, and a fragrant humidity filled the air. She was pruning one of her beloved lemon trees when Catie entered through one of the large wooden doors.

The girl’s attempts to be interested in both Sarah’s gardening skills and the upcoming luncheon did not fool her. Sarah was far too wise to be duped into believing Catie’s company was only for conversation. But she entertained Catie until the true purpose of her visit surfaced.

“Oh, Sarah!” Catie cried dreamily, hands clapped together in exuberance with an expression to match. “How wonderful it looks in here!”

“Thanks,” Sarah replied as she continued to snip branches.

“Though this orangery is not as big as the original one, I do believe it’s much more intimate and romantic. Would you not agree?” Catie climbed upon a wrought iron bench and plopped herself onto its backrest.

Sarah, who was more than unconvinced with the wistful speech, dourly responded, “Catherine, please sit on that bench like a proper young lady. There are gardeners about.”

“Oh . . . yes, Sarah, of course.” Catie slid obediently to the seat.

This was a bit too cooperative, making Sarah stop her work and stare inquisitively at the younger woman. She couldn’t help but think that, if she were a harp, her strings were being deliberately plucked. “All right, Catie, what is it that you want?” she finally asked.

“Want? Whatever do you mean, Sarah?”

“I mean, you are in want of something, so stop trying to butter me up and just ask me whatever it is you came to ask me.”

“Well . . . er . . . now that you mention it, I was going to ask you something. Do you not think it would be polite to invite Sean Kelly to the garden party? Rose always attends, and I thought he might enjoy a party.”

“My, my . . . this
is
a change of attitude. Last I heard, you considered him to be arrogant and bossy.”

“
Weellll . . .
he is awfully bossy. But then again, Sarah, all men can be rather impossible at times. It really shouldn’t be a reason
not
to invite him.”

Sarah chuckled. Sean Kelly’s youth and rugged good looks hadn’t escaped her when he arrived. So much so, she had an initial twinge of worry that Catie might develop a schoolgirl crush on her handsome riding instructor, but the worries quickly subsided with Catie’s constant complaining about Sean Kelly’s strict manner and superior attitude. These complaints had recently diminished somewhat, however, and Sarah couldn’t help but wonder if her earlier concern should now be warranted. She questioned, “Catie, you aren’t developing feelings for Sean, are you?”

“Why, Sarah . . . whatever do you mean?”

“Catie Darcy, your brother might buy that innocent schoolgirl act, but I know better. I was sixteen once myself, and it was
not
all that long ago!”

Catie blushed at the question. “Sean and I are nothing more than friends. You’re right. I didn’t like him at all at first, but now that I have gotten to know him better . . . he’s . . . well, he’s not so bad.”

Being only thirty years of age, Sarah had not completely forgotten the pangs of youthful infatuation. She smiled sweetly, sat on the bench, and nestled Catie under her right arm. “I do think it would be polite to invite Sean. I shall make him out a proper formal invitation at once.”