The Heart Does Whisper (Echoes of Pemberley Book 2)

by Cynthia Ingram Hensley

  A few minutes later, Gabriel stood in the darkened hall outside of the dining room, listening to the soft voices of Sean and Catie, chatting as they ate their supper. He felt like an outsider—trespassing. The same way he always felt at home when he’d come into the barn and hear his da and Sean talking and carrying on. When Sean rejected the life of horse farmer and went away to university, Gabriel hoped his father would finally love him as he loved his firstborn. Instead, his father became even more distant as he grieved Sean’s decision, and Gabriel quickly realized he could never fill his older brother’s shoes. Maybe Sean was right; maybe he shouldn’t have come here, but he was here and starving. Taking a shaky breath, he stepped into the brightly lit dining room.

  “There you are,” Sean said. “Come, sit, and have a wee taste of Miss Etta’s Brunswick stew.”

  “Who’s Miss Etta?” he asked as he took a seat. “And what the bloody hell is Brunswick stew?”

  “Etta is the carriage house tenant, who kindly keeps us fed while Catie and I learn the ropes.” Sean explained Etta as best he could as he ladled out the stew for his brother. He didn’t need Gabriel blabbing to all of Ulster that Sean Kelly had a cook. “Trust me, mate. This isn’t our mam’s Irish stew.”

  Gabriel took a few bites as Sean and Catie looked on with anticipation.

  “Well, pretty good, eh?” Catie asked.

  “Almost better than Ma’s cooking,” he told her, smiling, then turned immediately to Sean and clarified, “I said almost, mind, so don’t go tellin’ her otherwise.”

  “On my honor.” Sean put his hand to his heart and raised his spoon.

  Gabriel entertained them with the happenings back home as they ate their supper. For the first time in weeks, he actually began to relax. If only temporarily, it felt good to put his troubles aside — troubles that were more complicated than Sean or his father could ever imagine.

  Afterwards, they had coffee in the parlor while the brothers took out their guitars to strum a few tunes. Sean winked at his wife and said, “It’s a Kelly tradition to share a wee song when a traveler stops on your doorstep.”

  Catie raised a cynical brow at him. “It seems there are very few happenings in Ireland that don’t merit the sharing of a wee song.” He laughed, kissed her, and then sat down to his music. Little in the world made Catie happier than listening to Sean sing, but tonight she had news to share—exciting news. She clapped along for several songs then, needing a diversion, stood and offered to fetch them a couple of beers. There was no need to wait until Gabriel went to bed, she decided. Not that she could wait any longer.

  “Sláinte!” the brothers said in unison as they clanged the bottles together and turned them up. Taking this as her cue, Catie distinctively cleared her throat.

  “Are ye goin’ to sing for us, lass?” Gabriel asked, his Ulster accent thick from the singing.

  “No.”

  “Dance a jig?” Sean chimed in, grinning.

  “Certainly not,” she replied flustered. “I have an announcement to make.”

  “Already made me an uncle!” Gabriel exclaimed gleefully, making Sean choke on his beer.

  “No!” Catie cried, scandalized, then stood with her arms in a huffy fold while Gabriel pounded on his brothers back. “If you two are quite finished, I have something very important to say.”

  “Sorry, cailín,” Sean coughed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Go on then.”

  “I’ve decided what I’m going to do with my life.” The proclamation tumbled out rapidly but ended with more deliberation. “I’m going to be a teacher.”

  There was a long silence until Gabriel said, “That’s grand, Catie.”

  She smiled faintly at him then looked at her husband. “Sean?”

  “Aye…g-grand,” he stammered. “Isn’t this a bit sudden though?”

  “Maybe,” she admitted and sat down beside him. “Decided might be too strong of a word…considering might be more fitting. Prissy Middleton”—she paused and looked at Gabriel—“She’s Dr. Middleton’s wife.” He nodded, so she continued, “Prissy and her ladies’ group have volunteered to help improve the reading skills of some of Norbury’s students by tutoring them a couple of days a week. I just became so thrilled with the idea. I thought…maybe I should be a teacher! It would certainly complement your profession.”

  Sean’s eyebrows drew together. “Volunteer at Norbury?”

  “Yes, Dr. Middleton told Prissy how helpful it would be, so me and several other ladies volunteered. They’re a very civic-minded group.”

  Sean was quiet again. Not wanting to needlessly distress Catie, he’d been careful not to share with her the disturbing accounts of mistreatment he’d read in Norbury’s files. After all, the visible, permanent scars and the not-so-visible deep emotional wounds left by abuse and neglect weren’t exactly dinner conversation. The thought of Catie sitting down with a boy like Toby Patterson — his arms forever disfigured by a father’s rage—made Sean’s gut tighten.

  “You don’t seem very keen, Sean.” She interrupted his thoughts.

  “No…not very keen at all,” he said, putting his guitar aside. “As a matter of fact, I don’t fancy the idea one bit.”

  “Forgive me if you’ve misunderstood.” Catie looked him directly in the eye. “I wasn’t asking your permission.”

  “Right!” Gabriel stood and stretched his long, spare limbs. “It’s a fair night out, and I think I’ll finish me beer under the stars. Catie, darlin’, I’m main happy for you.” He lifted his bottle to her then leaned over his brother’s shoulder and said, sotto voce, “Better you than me, mate.”

  Exhaling greatly, Sean leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees as Gabriel left them. He stared at his hands, slowly rubbing them back and forth. “I wasn’t exactly forbidding you,” he said shortly. “I was expressing my opinion. Last time I checked, a man still has that right.”

  His words made her cheeks glow, and she glanced away. “He does,” she whispered ruefully. “I apologize for speaking so boldly. But, Sean, I don’t understand. I thought you’d be delighted, pleased even. Haven’t you, Ben, Sarah, and Rose been fretting over me finding some direction for my life?”

  “Yes.” He glanced up at her now. “But, Catie, God gives us each gifts. It’s up to us to sort them out and use them. That being said”—he paused then spoke more carefully—“I don’t think teaching is yours.”

  “I see,” she said stiffly as she rose and stepped away, her back to him.

  Sean frowned. He hadn’t intended to hurt her. “Catie, children and classrooms need structure and discipline.”

  “I can do that!” she turned and exclaimed.

  “Oh? Then why does Eliza Jane run to you every time she gets herself into mischief?”

  “That’s different. She’s my niece and a favorite child,” she argued and again sat down beside him. “Sean, it could be you’re right. Maybe I don’t possess the gift to teach. But wouldn’t volunteering with children be the perfect way to know for sure?”

  He gazed into her eyes, always so determined when her fire was lit. How could he make her understand? “Yes, I reckon it would be…but…not at Norbury.”

  “Why not?”

  He reached over and placed his hand atop hers. “Catie, do you remember what you said to me after we left the Middleton’s on our first night here?” She shook her head. “You said that you were afraid Jamal’s dreadful story might be just one of many. Well, you were right. I taught for two years before I came here and yet was still ill-prepared for what those boys have suffered. To be perfectly honest, it was extremely difficult for me in the beginning. I just didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Sean, I’m not a child,” she said, trying to keep hold of her emotion. “Nor am I ignorant of the world I live in.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “No. No, you’re not. And you’ve a damn thick-headed will that keeps me awake at night with worry. But, Catie, you’ve led a sheltered life with no
real-world experience.” Sean could see the disappointment in her expression but stood his ground. “I’m sorry…but I can’t, in good conscience, be supportive of this.”

  Catie sat quietly for several minutes, fighting a rising frustration. Hadn’t Sean Kelly been the one person she could depend on not to think she might melt if caught in the rain? She searched his eyes for her liberator—the man who had believed in her no matter what—but found only a tender resolve. It was an expression she’d seen all too often on Ben’s face…caring, overprotective Ben. “All right,” she finally replied, as casually as if he’d ask her to pass the potatoes.

  “All right,” he repeated. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “It means all right…I understand. What else could it mean?” She stood. “I’m going to clear the table.”

  He followed her to the dining room, noting the coldness in her manner as she scraped and stacked the bowls. He wanted to take her in his arms but felt as uncertain of his welcome as a cat that had been harshly shooed from the countertop. If only he could erase everything he’d just said, but he had spoken the truth—his heart. That couldn’t be wrong even if it was hard for her to hear. “Can I help you there?”

  “No. Go visit with your brother, and please tell him good night for me. I’m rather tired. Tell him I’ll take him on a trolley journey through the city tomorrow. He’d enjoy that I think.” She gave him an empty smile as she passed, carrying the dishes off to the kitchen.

  He followed her again and stood by silently as she placed the dishes in the dishwasher. When finished, she dried her hands on a kitchen towel and then stopped to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Good night, darling.”

  “Good night,” he whispered, reluctantly letting her slip away from him but abruptly seized her hand before she was fully gone. She turned back. “Are you cross with me?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Why would I be?”

  There was a strange prickle in Sean’s spine when she walked away. Damn, he thought as he jerked open the refrigerator door. He stared aimlessly inside, realizing he’d forgotten why he opened the blasted thing in the first place.

  “Grab me another will ya?”

  Sean jumped at Gabriel’s voice. “Christ! You scared the bejesus out of me.”

  Gabriel grinned. “Why so jumpy? The little missus make off with yer rocks, did she?”

  “Mind your own rocks,” replied his brother sharply, shoving a beer into his chest.

  “Oh, I see.” Gabriel gave his brother’s back an approving slap. “Sent the wee bird off to bed with a wicked scoldin’ then, eh? Steady on, mate, she’ll forgive ye eventually. Sure you’ve not been married too long to have forgotten how to take matters in hand.” He winked slowly.

  “Mind your own rocks and your own bloody business!” Sean barked as he headed for the back door and the cool October night. “I need some air.”

  “Women,” Gabriel chuckled to himself as he trailed Sean down the back steps to the courtyard where they ran into Etta returning home from church. Her eyes went round as saucers when she saw Gabriel with the same thatch of coal black hair and piercing blue eyes as Sean.

  “Now you have got to be Miss Etta.” Gabriel strode over and put his arm around her. “A fine cook and beautiful in the bargain, I think I’m in love, Seany!”

  “Sweet Jesus,” she uttered, “they even sound the same.”

  Chapter 9

  Although Sean and Annabelle Montague had not become fast friends exactly, they had found common ground in their love of horses. Before he left Challongate on the day of the board meeting, he’d even promised the woman he would regularly exercise Ruby and Penelope, her two thoroughbreds now housed at the fully operating Montague Stables. The Irishman so impressed Norbury’s esteemed patroness with his equine knowledge, she insisted to Hugh Middleton that Sean exclusively pay special attention to Ruby and Penelope since she herself had not been well enough to ride since spring. Sean wasn’t thrilled about the idea. He hadn’t traveled as far as Savannah, Georgia, to play favorite stable boy to a wealthy eccentric—a title he’d held at Kells Down since he was thirteen years old. Seamus Kelly always promised his eldest son’s singular talents to the mounts of more affluent customers, who usually requested the lad. Sean, however, did travel as far as Georgia to lay a solid stone in the foundation of his career. He knew securing a reference from Annabelle Montague, a member of one of Staffordshire’s oldest families—even if she was American—would be a worthy start.

  Dressed to ride on Saturday morning, he and Catie crept quietly down the steps to keep from waking Gabriel. Catie was delighted at the thought of a brisk run, and Sean was glad to see her bright smile. Although there had been no further mention of her volunteering at Norbury, Sean sensed something between them. He hoped her good mood meant she’d moved past the idea.

  As they bumped along the dirt road that led to the stables in the old Wagoneer that had belonged to Dr. Middleton’s father-in-law, Catie was sorry to see the morning mist burning off rapidly. The crisp morning she and Sean had been so thankful for when they left town was apparently no match for the vain Georgia sun, which exacted its authority over Savannah’s weather with little to no mercy. Never did she think she could grow tired of the sun. Sunshine was always welcomed in England—a blessing. Although the arrival of autumn hadn’t cooled the temperatures a great deal, at least the sudden and sometimes violent afternoon storms had become less frequent.

  “Mornin’, Matthias,” Sean called out to Norbury’s stable master, tipping his paddy hat to the man as he came round to open Catie’s door. Catie smiled at her husband, always so amiable. Everyone liked the Irishman. Even the Darcys’ most highbrow acquaintances had been taken in easily by his natural charm.

  Matthias threw up his hand and waved back.

  Inside the stable, Catie inhaled the familiar scents of horse and hay, coupled with the smell of the new building’s freshly hewn wood. Like at Pemberley and Kells Down, Montague Stables was cleanly kept. Catie knew Sean gave all the credit to Matthias, but her husband had worked closely with the man. Looking around, she could plainly see his touches.

  Two boys, who were readying Ruby and Penelope for their exercise, stopped their task to rush over and greet Sean. “Mr. Kelly!” they rang out eagerly in unison. “We’re saddlin’ your horses,” the younger boy said, grinning proudly. “Want to see how we did?”

  “I can’t wait!” Sean replied, equally as eager.

  Catie watched as he patiently guided the boys through the few minor corrections that needed making. He was teaching—what he’d always dreamed of doing—and he was good at it. A gift from God, as Sean had put it. Catie had gifts. Under Sean’s tutelage, she had become an expert horsewoman over the last four years. He’d even encouraged her to compete, but she didn’t fancy the idea. And it was often said that she could play the piano as well as if not better than her concert pianist grandmother. But to her brother’s chagrin, she never desired to perform for anyone other than family. It wasn’t a wonder that everyone had fretted over her future plans. “She’s young yet,” she remembered hearing Rose tell Ben and Sarah. “Like any foal, she’ll get her feet under her soon enough.” Would she get her feet under her? she wondered.

  “Excellent work, men!” Sean affectionately clapped each shoulder. “I couldn’t have done better myself.” He turned to Catie and held out an upturned hand. “M’lady, shall I give you a leg-up?”

  She didn’t know whether she was thankful or infuriated that, after four years of courtship and several months of marriage, the man still made her insides flutter like a moon-eyed schoolgirl. She put her hand in his, and Sean walked her over to one of the horses. Catie slid her left knee into his palm, feeling him take a firm grip on her calf with his other hand.

  “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded, locking her leg rigid as a board.

  Catie heard a gasp from one of the boys as she flew up, swung her right leg over the horse, and settled neatly in the saddle.
r />   “That was cool!” one of them exclaimed.

  Sean winked up at her. “You hear that, m’lady? I’m cool.”

  “Before you get a swollen head, Mr. Kelly, I believe the lad was referring to my graceful mount,” she snipped playfully then trotted out of the stable, back straight and nose in the air.

  Chuckling to himself, Sean mounted his own horse then looked down on the two young faces that stared up at him in awe. He was amazed at how quickly some of the boys had grown attached to him—not uncommon for parentless children, according to Dr. Middleton. Sean was beginning to regret he’d only be at Norbury for a year. But Ireland was home—not America. As soon as Catie completed her studies at Cambridge, they would make their home in Ulster, and not a moment too soon for Sean’s taste. He smiled down at the boys. “There’s a lesson for you, lads…always let the ladies have the compliments.” He gave them a departing salute and kicked the eager mare into a quick canter to catch up with his cheeky wife.

  Waiting for him a short distance from the stables, Catie shook her head incredulously as he approached.

  “What?” he asked, laughing.

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Always the cock! And by the bye, pray tell me, where was that good-natured teacher when I was your student?”

  He threw his head back and laughed—the way she loved him to laugh. “Well, it’s like this, me darlin’, students are a lot like horses.” She arched a warning brow at him, but he ignored it and continued, “You see…if they’re a good sort, easily directed like those fellahs back there, then I need only be a guide…a vessel to their education.”

  “And if they’re not? And I warn you to tread carefully here, Sean Kelly.”

  “If they’re not.” Sean shook his head discouragingly and made a serious face. “Then unfortunately, lass, there’s naught that will do but a sound smack to the filly’s hindquarters.”