The Heart Does Whisper (Echoes of Pemberley Book 2)
Page 36
“He had Ben and me,” Catie said in soft defense.
Rose smiled at her in the way you smile at a child who doesn’t understand. “I used to take you to your father before your bedtime so that he could play with you or read you a story. One night he touched my hand and asked me to stay. He said, ‘Rose, I’m man enough to be a single parent to my children, but there’s no bloody fun in it.’ He told me that the previous night you had put on his shoes and marched around the room pretending to be him. Then you looked at him and said, ‘Put on my shoes, Daddy, and be me.’ William said he laughed but then realized there was no one there to laugh with him. He needed a friend, and for a while we were just that—friends.”
Catie swallowed the hard lump that always formed in her throat when her father was mentioned. “Nan, when I was a little girl, I wanted you to be my mum more than I wanted anything else in the world. To know that you could have been but didn’t fancy the idea…”
“Oh, but, Catie, I did fancy the idea.” Rose came and sat down beside her. “You know you’ve been to me the child I never had. It’s true that, once your father’s and my friendship began to blossom into something more, I tried ardently not to give in to my feelings for William—we both did. I don’t mean to sound Edwardian, but we were from different social backgrounds, and I was his housekeeper and your nanny. People say the great social divide has narrowed with time, but you, better than anyone, know that isn’t completely true.”
“But Sean and I weren’t concerned about where we came from. We loved each other more than we cared about what others might say.”
“Catie, your marriage to Sean brought only joy to your loved ones. What if you knew that those you loved most would have suffered by your union? Could you have been so free spirited?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your father asked me to marry him whilst Ben was still at Cambridge. I didn’t care if people scoffed and smirked behind my back, but I couldn’t bear knowing Ben would be subject to other people’s prejudices. Your father tried to convince me the boy was too strong to be injured by malicious gossip, but even Bennet Darcy has a few frail parts inside that big sturdy frame of his.” Rose’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I know, because I’ve been privy to them.”
“So, you just said no to Daddy, and that was the end of it?”
“Not exactly,” Rose admitted. Blushing profusely, she stood and nervously brushed her hands down the matronly-style dress she wore when wearing the hat of Pemberley’s resident housekeeper.
“You lived in sin!” Catie exclaimed, sounding appalled. After all, it was Rose who had given her more lectures than she could count on what proper Christian girls did and didn’t do and threatened Sean with nothing short of a flogging if he got any clever ideas into that head of his.
Rose’s brows shot up. “And you fancy yourself too grown to have your mouth washed, do you now?” Catie gave Rose a short smile, and with it came the ease they normally shared in each other’s company. Rose sat back down and pulled Catie into her arms. “Oh, Catherine, your father and I tried putting aside our love, but it was difficult living in each other’s company. I would lie awake at night, tormented by the knowledge that he was just down the hall. As much as the idea pained me, I even considered leaving Pemberley, but William wouldn’t hear of it because of the attachment you and I shared. For months, he kept his distance, and I went about my duties. We spoke only formally and avoided even the slightest eye contact…”
“Then…what happened?” Catie implored.
Rose took a shaky breath. “Your father and I soon realized it was hopeless. No matter how keen and honorable our efforts to do right were, our yearnings and desires ultimately prevailed. Despite mine and your father’s good intentions, my dear Catherine, in the quiet moments…the heart does whisper.” Rose paused to let her words settle.
Like the clouds sailing over Strangford Lough, the past year raced through Catie’s mind’s eye. Yes, she thought, it most certainly does whisper. She gave Rose a soft, understanding nod.
“Your father came to me in the music room one morning with a grand scheme and…weak as I was for wanting him, I agreed.”
“What sort of scheme?”
“We were married—privately. No banns were posted, there was no minister or witnesses, so it wasn’t a marriage the church would recognize. Your father and I said our vows to each other, just he and I before the altar in Pemberley’s chapel. We had every intention of marrying properly once Ben finished university but—”
“He died,” Catie filled in on a whisper as a tear raced down her cheek. “Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, child.” Rose smiled sadly. “I loved two of the greatest men I’ve ever known, my Henry and my William. The Lord has them now, but we shall be reunited one day and have the best of times. I chuckle to myself when I think of them there—together.”
Catie looked over to where she had buried the locks of hair and thought of Willie, Margaret, and Annabelle together once again as they had been during those summers so long ago. “The best of times,” she repeated softly.
“Now”—Rose got up—“we must get you back to the house and break your fast. You must be mindful of your nourishment, especially in these early months.”
Teasingly, Catie rolled her eyes. “Are you going to nag me about my eating for the duration of this pregnancy?”
“Well, certainly. Isn’t that what I do?”
“It’s what mothers do.” Catie smiled at Rose, and together they strolled, arms locked and unhurriedly, back to the path that led home. “Rose, will you tell me the whole story of you and Daddy?”
“One day, Catherine.” Rose patted her hand. “One day I shall.”
***
With the bounce of a man showered, shaven, and recently informed he was going to be a father, Sean came down Pemberley’s grand staircase two steps at a time. He had thought he couldn’t be any happier than he was the day Catie Darcy agreed to be his wife, but knowing she was carrying their child made him feel as if he could burst from sheer elation. Of course, he worried about Catie’s health, how they might manage when they were three instead of two, and where they should live, but these were just details he would have to see to as a husband and a father. And besides, for once in his life, Sean was determined not to let the particulars of a situation dampen his joy. Hadn’t he put himself through school? Hadn’t he—naught but an Irish farm lad—won the hand of Catherine Darcy. Sean wasn’t ignorant of the fact that a beautiful heiress like Catie could have had her choice of men, but she had chosen him, had put the fate of her future happiness in his hands and, above all, believed in him. As the beginnings of a smile began to steal across his lips, a voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Mr. Kelly.” He turned and realized he didn’t recognize the young woman speaking to him, but that wasn’t unusual. With Pemberley on the tour of Derbyshire’s manor houses, extra day maids were always hired on in the summer months when tourism was at its peak.
“Yes,” he replied.
“There’s a call for you…from America. You may take it in the library if you like.”
“America?” Sean twisted his watch around—9:30. “Thank you,” he said then stepped quickly into the library and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Cheerio, mate!” Dr. Middleton’s southern drawl came through the line, making Sean smile. “Say, whoever answered the telly sounded just like Vanessa Redgrave, or maybe they sounded more like Lynn Redgrave. Anyway, they sounded like one of the Redgrave sisters.”
Sean laughed, sure there wasn’t an emergency by the sound of Hugh Middleton’s voice. “Hugh, a telly is a television not a telephone.”
“Oh, what’s a telephone called then?”
Sean chuckled. “It’s called a telephone.”
“Ah, that one should be easy to remember.”
“Hugh.” Sean instinctively looked again at his watch. “Isn’t it before dawn there?”
�
�Yep, but Prissy wouldn’t let me call before I went to bed because it was the middle of the night over there. So, I set my alarm to call you as soon as I was sure you’d be up and at ’em.”
“Is everything all right?” Sean asked.
“Good news is all. Good news that couldn’t wait.”
“What sort of good news?”
“Glad you asked.” Sean could tell Hugh Middleton was smiling. “Day before yesterday the autopsy results finally came back on Vernon Hill a stroke and a bad one.”
“I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that,” Sean replied.
“No,” Hugh Middleton agreed. “But you do remember that scar on his hand.”
“Of course I do! Was it the same scar as Toby’s—like I thought?”
“The doc that did Hill’s autopsy is the same doc that did Toby’s mother’s, and he matched the wounds—one hundred percent.”
Sean let out a breath. This was good news but still a senseless tragedy, and Tim Patterson was still in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. “Hugh, do you think this will help Tim Patterson?”
“Did I say I was finished?” Hugh Middleton asked in the principal-like tone Sean had heard often during his time in Savannah.
“Sorry, go on.”
“Right, this is where it starts gettin’ good. After the autopsy confirmed the match, a young buck tryin’ to make a name for himself in the D.A.’s office ordered a search warrant for Vernon Hill’s truck, which was still in the impound lot. And guess what they found inside?”
“What?” Sean asked excitedly.
“A tobacco spear,” Hugh announced as if he’d uncovered the object himself. “A common tool for tobacco farmers, but by the looks of it, the coroner believes it could be our missing murder weapon.”
“Really—”
“Hold up,” Hugh Middleton cut Sean off. “I haven’t even told you the best part. On a hunch, this same young attorney had Vernon Hill’s license plates run and came up with a parking ticket outside Savannah’s Thunderbird Motel on the night Toby and his mother were attacked. That’s the part I learned last night, but Prissy made me wait ’til the sun came up over there to call.”
“So, what does all this mean for Toby’s dad? Will they free him now there is so much evidence of his innocence?” Sean knew he was speaking as fast as his heart was pounding.
“I spoke with the D.A. last night myself—he’s a member of my daddy-in-law’s golf club—and he said if Tim Patterson didn’t get a full acquittal, he’d be granted a new trial at the very least. The evidence is compelling, but it’s still circumstantial.”
“What does your gut tell you, Hugh?” Sean asked, closing his eyes to hear the answer.
“My gut tells me Tim Patterson will soon be a free man. Already there’s a growing consensus of folks ’round here callin’ for his release.”
“Thank God,” Sean uttered.
“Amen,” Hugh Middleton seconded.
A few minutes later, Sean put down the receiver and breathed a sigh of relief and thanksgiving for Toby Patterson and his father, confident that an end to their unimaginable nightmare would be soon in coming. He smiled to himself then turned and made his way to Pemberley’s long gallery where he stood directly in front of two large portraits. Fitzwilliam Darcy loomed before him, tall and proud. To his right was his wife, Elizabeth, smiling softly in perfect complement of her beloved husband. Of all Pemberley’s antique paintings, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth’s portraits were Catie’s favorites because of their legendary love story. Having yet been unable to locate his wife that morning, Sean thought if he stood there long enough, she would come.
“There you are,” she said, coming up behind him only a few minutes later, wrapping her arms around his waist and making him smile smugly for being right.
“You skipped breakfast,” he replied disapprovingly.
“I did not.” Catie came around to his front. “Rose and I came back from our walk late and had breakfast down in the kitchen. You, Mr. Kelly, are too quick to scold.”
He smiled then. “I just want you to take care of yourself.”
“Sean, I’m fine. Not even a hint of nausea this morning, and I’ve never felt better in my life. All right?”
“All right,” he conceded with a smile. “Hugh Middleton rang a bit ago.”
“Oh, Sean, did you tell him about the baby?”
“I did. I couldn’t help meself, but I warned him you’d swim the Atlantic Ocean and box his ears if he let on to Prissy or Miss Etta before you had the chance to ring them.”
“Good.” She chuckled softly and gazed up at Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth. “Do you not wish that having portraits painted together was more fashionable in their time? Would it not have been wonderful to see them touching?”
“Aye, it would.” He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head.
Catie glanced up at him and smiled. “I prayed that one day I’d be as fortunate as Elizabeth and find my Darcy. Thank you for being the answer to that prayer.”
Sean made a face and looked up at the Regency couple once more. “Actually, I think it was I who found my Darcy. Wasn’t Elizabeth from a large, rowdy family of lesser means?”
Catie laughed. “Yes, she was. But, Sean, you could never be Elizabeth.”
“No?” He cut his eyes down at her, one eyebrow raised in question.
“No.” She shook her head teasingly. “That dress would look terrible on you.”
Sean put his head back and laughed. “You’re right; green isn’t my color.”
Ben stood in silence, listening to the exchange. Catie was happy, happier than he had ever seen her. He could never thank Sean Kelly enough for bringing back his little sister’s sweet, melodic giggle. But Ben knew he needn’t thank Sean, for clearly the man’s reward was in his arms. Although he hated interrupting them, he put back his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Catherine, Horace has the papers ready for your signature.”
“Thank you, Ben,” Catie told her brother who nodded at her and stepped away. She looked back at Sean guardedly, knowing her inheritance stung him like salt stings a wound. She was relieved to see he bore a soft expression and a comforting smile—both meant for her.
“No worries, lass,” he said, squeezing her hands to assure her even further. “This insufferable ass you’ve married is ready to be a husband to all of you…even those damnable trusts.”
“An ass maybe, but not so insufferable,” she said, laying her head on his chest. “Sean darling, are you ready for whatever’s next?”
“Aye, cailín, I’m ready for anything as long as you’re by my side.”
The End
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Forward
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share