“Why?”
“Because he asked me to,” Rose said as she came over and eyed the tea and toast. “There’s a good girl. You don’t eat enough which is probably why you’re having bad dreams.” According to Rose, most every illness was brought about from a lack of nourishment, and practically everything could be cured with a healthy dose of castor oil.
“No, why is he going to London?” Catie clarified.
“Business, I assume, Catherine. Isn’t that normally why?”
“I suppose.” Catie sat quietly for a minute. She had hoped to ask Ben about Rosings Park, but Rose was almost as knowledgeable of her family history as her brother was. “Nan, do you remember the story Daddy used to tell me about Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy?”
“I think I remember it. Why?”
“Whatever happened to Lady Catherine, the aunt who lived at Rosings Park?”
Rose gave her a sidelong look as she pulled the curtains fully back, letting a rush of brilliant light pour into the room. Catie had fixed the panel on the window casement where she found Mary’s diary as best she could, but with Rose’s keen eye, she held her breath to see if the woman noticed. Rose, however, seemed more interested in changing the subject. “I can’t say as I know for sure, Catie. You will have to ask your brother.”
Catie sighed. It was the answer she had expected. “Rose.” She hid a grin behind her teacup, suddenly remembering another curious piece from her dream. “Were you in love with my daddy?”
* * *
Since Ben wasn’t to return home until the weekend, Catie would have to wait to discover the meaning behind Mary Darcy’s entry. Rose had rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in exasperation at Catie’s last question. Still, she had to wonder whether her youthful insight hadn’t been somewhat correct.
It was approaching three, and Catie was changing into her riding breeches when her telephone rang. Glancing at her clock, she considered not answering it, but thinking it was most likely Audrey Tillman, she decided to make it quick. “Hello.”
“Catie?” said an unfamiliar male voice. “Is this Catie Darcy?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Aiden . . . Aiden Hirst. Remember me?” Catie hesitated. “London, last spring, you came to a party at my house in Holland Park.”
“Oh, yes!” She remembered now. The party in Holland Park; the party she had attended after telling Ben she was going to the cinema with Jenna Makepeace. Catie hadn’t deliberately planned the deception. She had honestly believed they were going to the pictures, but Jenna had gotten word of the party and begged Catie to go with her.
Sounding pleased, Aiden continued, “I was ringing to see when you were coming to London this summer. I thought we might see each other.”
“I don’t know if I am, Aiden.” Catie twisted the cord around her fingers. “I...I thought you and Jenna Makepeace were . . . you know . . . ”
“Oh, that’s ancient history. Where have you been?” He laughed.
“Derbyshire . . . where else?” she replied glumly. Yes, where else for sure.
“Well, maybe I’ll just come out to the country. My uncle and aunt live in Matlock. Can I . . . ” he paused, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Can I pop ’round to Pemberley if I do? I’d like to see you.”
Catie grimaced, feeling her cheeks color even though she was alone, but she might as well be honest. “Aiden, I couldn’t say.” This was true. She’d never had a boy ask if he could “pop ’round” before. But she knew Bennet Darcy all too well. “My . . . it’s just, my brother. He’s . . . well, he’s sort of a traditionalist. I think you would need to speak to him first. I’m sorry, I know it’s archaic. Please don’t laugh.”
“Not a chuckle,” he said. “My dad grew up in Derbyshire, and I happen to appreciate old-fashioned country manners. If I had a sister, I would be the same way.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he repeated.
“Thanks for saying that.”
“I meant it,” he said sincerely, and she heard his smile.
“Well, I must be off.” She glanced at her clock once more. “I’m late for my riding lesson. Cheers, Aiden.”
“Bye now,” he said and hung up.
“Aiden Hirst,” she whispered to herself, biting the corner of a smiling lip as she returned the receiver. “Hmm.”
Chapter 6
Percival was not a name that fit Clancy’s brother-in-law. The man was taller than Sean and at least six stones heavier. He was a nice enough fellow, just big and a bit simple-minded, according to Clancy. Percival was just not a proper name for the man, Sean mused as he came towards him, carrying Sean’s saddle.
“It’s all right, Percival.” Sean met him midway. “I’ll saddle me own horse.”
“Clancy did say as I was to saddle the horses for you and Miss Darcy.” Percival said this as if no other alternative existed.
“Thank you, Percival, but Miss Darcy and I will saddle our own horses.”
“Miss Darcy, saddling her own horse?” Percival repeated incredulously, looking at Sean as if he had just requested the honor to dig his own grave.
“Yes, Miss Darcy is going to learn to saddle a horse. Caring for your mount is the only way to become well acquainted with it. And the more acquainted she is, the more comfortable she’ll feel.” Sean tried to take the saddle from Percival, but Percival wasn’t letting go.
“Clancy did say . . . ”
“Aye, Percival.” Sean stopped him from repeating himself again and assured, “I understand what Clancy said, and I’ll explain it to him meself.”
“Your hide, mate.” Percival shrugged, let go of the saddle, and walked away.
“Say, Percival,” Sean called.
“Eh?”
“How long have you been working for the Darcys?”
Percival smiled proudly. “’Bout thirty years now; three generations of Darcys I’ve been saddlin’ for, yes sir. Mr. Geoffrey Darcy, Mr. William Darcy, sad thing that, Mr. William was a good man, a finer man you’ll not meet from ’ere to London, an’ now ’is boy, Mr. Ben Darcy. I put lit’l Master Ben on ’is first pony. Lit’l scamp, he was, wouldn’t be led around like a baby, no sir. All afternoon that pony tossed the lad in the dirt, but he just kept gettin’ back up.” Percival laughed. “His daddy and me watched all afternoon whilst boy and horse reached an agreement.”
Sean chuckled reflexively. “Sounds about how me da taught me.”
Percival nodded. “Aye, hard knocks is what makes the man, eh?”
“To hear me da tell it,” Sean agreed. “So you’ve known Miss Catie all her life then?”
“Of course. A favorite of ’er daddy’s that one was. Mr. Darcy would put the lit’l missy in from of ’im on ol’ Abastor and ride all round the estate, and she’d sit tall and dignified like a queen on parade. The spit of ’er ma, she is, and a prettier child you’ll not meet from ’ere to London — a bit of a temper though.” Percival winked and nudged Sean. “What we chaps will put up with for a pretty face, eh, Kelly? Me Connie was a fetching bird in her youth, no doubt, but she’s got a tongue on ’er that would slice cheese.”
Sean’s eyebrows rose. He couldn’t imagine any sister of Clancy’s being attractive. At the moment, however, he was more interested in Catie Darcy’s equine history. “Has Miss Darcy ever been hurt while riding? You know, fallen or been thrown?”
“No.” Shaking his head, Percival lifted his hat and wiped his sweaty brow with his sleeve. “Mind though, she’s only ridden with her brother, so I’d ask him to be sure.”
“Thanks, Percival.” Sean clapped the man’s beefy shoulder warmly and went to saddle his horse. “I will.”
Although she rushed as fast as she could, it was a quarter after three before Catie made it to the stables. When she came in, Sean Kelly had his back to her, checking his saddle straps. “You’re late, Miss Catie,” he stated in his deep heavy brogue without turning around.
To his back she scowled but answered pleasan
tly enough, “Yes, sorry. I’ll hurry and fetch my riding hat.” Two weeks, she reminded herself, two short weeks and her commitment to Ben was satisfied. And in the meantime, she also reminded herself, she had resolved to be only as civil as necessary, and under no bloody circumstance was she going to stare at him like a moon-eyed, immature, fourth former again. God, being sixteen must be purgatory.
On her return she found him standing beside Chloe, holding her saddle and smiling his big, stupid smile. “Percival is happy to saddle my horse for you, Mr. Kelly,” she told him as she finished working her fingers into her gloves.
“Oh, I’m not saddling your horse, Miss Catie.” He held the saddle out. “You are.”
Catie felt a quick swell of indignation but stamped it down like a minor brush fire. “And why would I do that when Percival can do it for me?” she asked nicely.
His stupid smile grew larger. “Because I told you to. What good is it to improve your riding skills if you can’t even saddle a horse?”
“Ah, then let me assure you: I can saddle a horse.”
“Kelly!” Clancy called out brusquely, bringing their debate to a halt. He came quickly towards them with a determined gait that told of his former occupation. “I’ll not have the miss saddlin’ ’er own horse. If it’s not done properly, and she was to get hurt, it’ll be me answering to Mr. Darcy.”
Still holding Catie’s saddle, Sean gave Clancy a shrug. “Watch her then, mate, and inspect the job when she’s finished.”
Sean’s suggestion played quickly over Clancy’s features as he gave a single nod of approval and said, “All right then.” Both men turned to Catie, who stood before them with her arms folded.
Determined to keep the upper hand, she marched forward and snatched the saddle from Sean Kelly’s hands. Eyeing each of them daringly, she stepped over to Chloe and started to work. “Oh, yes, Clancy, please supervise me, for that will surely heighten my consequence for Mr. Kelly.” Catie gave the young instructor a fierce glare over her shoulder, sure that his true purpose was to humiliate or punish her for being rude to Clancy yesterday.
“Miss?” Clancy looked as confused as he sounded.
Catie finished fastening the girth and spun around. “To make it simple, Clancy, Mr. Kelly has abandoned his post of riding instructor and has started a new career.” She paused and boldly cast her eyes over to meet Sean’s. “He’s now teaching lessons in etiquette.”
Although he was no longer smiling, Sean Kelly’s eyes seemed to light up in the face of confrontation. “I say, Clancy.” He tried to sound serious, but Catie noted a tinge of amusement in his voice. “Have you ever heard a girl blether on as much as this one? I’d wager the instructors at that fine boarding school of hers must have to paste her lips together in order for her to learn anything.”
He was very proud of his last comment. Catie knew it because he stood looking down at her like a gloating peacock. Irish farm lad or not, Sean Kelly did have a rather noble appearance with his aristocratic nose. But it was his gypsy black hair, which lent him a slight air of wickedness, that truly stirred the blood. Clearly he was challenging her, but Catie wasn’t taking the bait. Ignoring him, she finished her task and then stood back for inspection.
When both men were satisfied, Clancy left them without a word, and Sean had no choice but to state the obvious.
“I’m impressed. Where did you learn to saddle a horse?”
“Oh.” She smiled and batted her eyes innocently as she spoke with a distinct and well-bred shire accent. “At my fine boarding school. I believe the course fell between How to marry a rich husband and Hosting a grand dinner party.”
He smiled at her quick wit and gestured to her horse with his chin. “Mount your horse, Miss Catie. We have a long afternoon ahead of us.”
Other than a small remark about the unusual heat, he rode quietly beside her. Catie knew they were heading back to the open grassland by the river, and her stomach tightened at the thought of a long afternoon spent trying to gallop. She was busy rationalizing the need to overcome her fears when he abruptly pulled his horse to a stop and, by natural reaction, Catie did the same.
“Miss Catie, I just want to clarify something. I didn’t ask you to saddle your horse for any reason other than to improve your skills.”
“Oh,” she said, wondering if this was his idea of an apology.
“But truly,” he questioned, “where did you learn to saddle a horse?”
“We must tack up our own mounts at school. But my dad,” — Catie paused and swallowed — “he wouldn’t allow me to ride until I learned.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised. “I respect him for that.”
“He also would have given me a good wigging for being cheeky with Clancy yesterday.” She didn’t know why she said this, but for some strange reason, she wanted him to know.
“Then I respect him even more.”
She stared at him momentarily and then looked away. There was silence until a slight breeze went soughing though the trees overhead and sent a few birds loudly off in flight.
“Why?” His voice startled her, and she jerked her head back to meet his eyes again.
“Why?” she repeated.
“Yes.” He smiled now. “Why then did you snap Clancy’s head off yesterday if you were taught better?”
Catie shrugged. “I guess when you have been told all of your life that you have a temper, you start to believe it.”
He watched her for a moment with a rather solemn look on his face then a grin started to tug at the corners of his mouth.
“Is something funny to you, Mr. Kelly?”
“Well, yeah.” The grin grew larger. “I was just thinking how much easier my work would have been this summer if you had been told that you were an expert horsewoman.” The grin broke free and spread over his face, soft and good-humored. It was a nice expression — one with which Catie surmised those closest to him would have been familiar.
Fighting the urge to grin back at him, she straightened in her saddle to her full height and declared, “You’re an ass, Mr. Kelly — a complete and insufferable ass!”
Not being able to help himself, Sean burst out laughing at her insult, and Catie narrowed her eyes at him, affecting to look insulted.
“Humph,” she grunted and trotted off rather tall and dignified, just as Percival had described her.
Still laughing, Sean shook his head and murmured, “Like a queen on parade.”
After a long hour spent practicing the gallop in the dappled shade of the river’s tall white willows, Sean saw that Chloe’s willingness to continue being a good sport to her mistress was beginning to wane.
“That’ll be enough for today then,” he called out as she cantered back towards him, hands fiercely gripping the reins, he noticed.
To cool their mounts they walked slowly and quietly side by side back to the stables. As they climbed the gentle incline away from the river, a much welcomed breeze slightly picked up, rustling the grass and brush. Hot, Catie lifted her head and closed her eyes to let the light wind blow over her. He was watching her. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel his eyes roaming over her slender, extended neck and for the first time ever felt the surge of power that her feminine body possessed. She peeked at him through a slit in one eye, and he turned abruptly away, his ears pink at the tips.
“You need to give your horse more head,” he stated with an exaggerated authority, refusing to look at her again “You must relax but keep your position. Try and become one with her stride.”
She bit back a grin. “I’ll try harder tomorrow.”
“Good.” Hazarding a glance her way once more, he gave her a teacherly nod that seemed older than his years and then kept his eyes trained forward the rest of the way.
Percival was standing in the stable yard when they rode back in and threw up a hand in greeting as he approached the horses. “Afternoon, Percival,” Sean said warmly as he drew his horse to a stop and swung out of the saddle.
&nb
sp; “Afternoon!” Percival returned. “Can I take your horse?”
“Thanks, mate.” Sean passed his reins over to Percival’s big, calloused hand and then turned to Catie, who was just dismounting. “Give Chloe a good brush down and a warm wash after you remove her saddle, aye.”
She spun around to face him and opened her mouth to object, but he stopped her.
“And mind that you do a good job of it because I’ll be checking behind you.” Ignoring her flabbergasted expression, he made a friendly parting comment to Percival and started off.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
Sean stopped and turned around. “It’s a hot afternoon, Miss Catie, and I fancy me a pint at the Green Man. Is something amiss, miss?” He grinned at his own cleverness.
Still flushed from her ride, Catie’s face went almost scarlet. “Yes, something’s amiss! Why is it that Percival can see to your horse but not mine?”
He held his arms out to his side and gave his shoulders an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, but I have long since mastered the gallop.”
“And what does that have to do with it?” Now thoroughly enraged, Catie folded her arms tightly over her chest and glowered at him.
“As I said earlier, to improve your skills,” he said then gallantly bowed. “Till tomorrow, m’lady.”
2 August, 1918
He was waiting by the river again today. He smiled when he saw me. My heart is Arthur’s. Taking my hand, he led me into the woods and kissed me tenderly, then harder. I thought I might fall through a hole in the earth or float over the forest canopy. He brushed my cheek and brought his lips to mine again. The sound of a carriage startled us. He grasped my elbow and together we ran farther into the woodlands. I would have run all the way to Scotland had he asked me.
“All the way to Scotland . . . how romantic.” Catie rolled onto her back and looked dreamily at the vast blue sky overhead. In the next few pages, Arthur and Mary’s romance heated up rather quickly, and the clandestine nature of the affair only added to its intrigue. Biting her lip in constant apprehension of the lovers being discovered, she read breathlessly until she heard the hum of Ben’s car speeding up the approach road. “Finally!” she said, slamming the diary closed.
Echoes of Pemberley Page 6
