“Aye, Mr. Darcy, it’s naught but a bit of kitchen rubbish that I can see to later,” the man amiably agreed.
“Thank you, Mr. Ledford, one cannot be too careful,” Ben replied, and then called out to Mrs. Ledford. She clearly wasn’t the talkative sort but stopped her work in order to respond to his polite queries about herself and the children.
As they spoke, Catie looked back at Mr. Ledford and the small hairs on her neck rose. Taking advantage of Ben’s turned back, the man stared freely at the young budding flower before him. Dragging his tongue across his parched lips, Mr. Ledford let his eyes travel deliberately and slowly down her form.
Catie felt uncomfortable, violated. Mr. Ledford smiled at her in a way that caused gooseflesh to stipple on her arms. She nervously touched her brother’s elbow.
Ben turned abruptly, and, although Catie was unaware of it, he caught the leer. Leaning down, Ben spoke in a low angry voice that caused a spike of fear to fill her stomach. “Mount your horse and ride out.”
Catie immediately obeyed him, but curiosity would not keep her from looking back over her shoulder. Ben moved close to Mr. Ledford and words were exchanged. Their voices were low but heated. She saw Mr. Ledford wave his hands in an, “I don’t want any trouble” fashion. The conversation was brief. Ben left quietly, but the look in his eyes could have set Lambton ablaze again.
Catie hurriedly moved Chloe down the path and waited at the bottom of the drive. When Ben caught up, he didn’t look at her. She privately counseled herself on whether or not she should ask what had happened, but the fear in her stomach won the internal debate and curiosity was defeated. She remained silent.
They had not gone far when Ben stopped his horse and called his sister over to him. Pointing to the ground he asked her, “What is this?”
Catie looked where he was pointing but saw nothing.
“Are these tracks from your bicycle, Catherine?”
Catie looked again and saw her tire treads from a muddier day. “They are,” she said cautiously.
“You have been this far down the river on your bicycle?”
“I have,” she confirmed, cautious still.
Ben drew in and released a deep breath as he turned and glanced back in the direction of Ledford’s cottage. She waited for him to say more, but he only motioned for her to move on. His anger was not for his sister but rather himself. Sarah had tried to tell him, but Ben had preferred to turn a blind eye to his sister’s maturity, leaving her in possession of a woman’s body but uneducated on the evils of man. How could he have let her stray so far from the house? He shuddered when he thought of what might have happened had Catie come upon Ledford alone.
In silent contemplation over the next half hour, Ben decided that there was no help for it, Mr. Ledford must be evicted. Regret for the family was a small price to pay for the safety of others. How dare that man look at his little sister like that?
Having matters settled in his mind, Ben became slightly better company, and Catie was glad for the return of conversation. Now in the far outskirts of their estate, where she had seldom visited, Catie watched as her brother stopped and spoke to everyone who crossed their paths. Bennet Darcy was not just at ease with the rural farmers and country people, he was at home. He even rolled up his sleeves and spent the better part of an hour helping to restart a tractor that had seen better days.
“Not a piece of Pemberley machinery,” he was quick to inform her upon remounting his horse.
Catie smiled up at him. This was the Bennet Darcy she had fallen in love with as a child: strong, handsome, and good to those who depended on him.
The morning waned and the wind picked up as Ben had forecast. Finished with their business, they headed back home. Catie was dusty and exhausted. For several hours she had suffered talk relating to fishing, hunting, crops, and the weather. She was even offered a bowl of rabbit stew with the assurance that every ingredient had come from Pemberley soil, including the rabbit. Catie politely declined and watched her brother finish off his stew by mopping the bowl clean with the accompanying brown bread. She laughed softly to herself, thinking how Sarah would have scolded his manners.
The return trip moved along faster, as most work had stopped for the midday meal. A narrow drive they had passed earlier now echoed with the strums of a guitar, and the music persuaded Ben down the lane with a tired and hungry sister in tow.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have refused the rabbit stew, Sis,” was the reply she received for her complaints.
“I don’t eat cute furry animals, Bennet!”
They approached a small cottage surrounded by a stone fence, and Catie saw that a man in a wheelchair was playing the smooth, folk-like tunes. Seeing Ben and Geronimo, the man stopped strumming and put down the instrument. Smiling broadly, he threw up his hand and yelled, “Bennet Darcy! Halloo, lad.”
Once on the ground Ben motioned for Catie to join him, which she did though she hated the thought of another mount. Chloe seemed to get taller and taller as the morning wore on. They entered through a flimsy whitewashed gate and joined the man in the front garden.
Ben put a proud hand on her shoulder. “Mr. Reid, do you remember Catie?”
“Do I? But...she was only a wee lassie when I last saw her! Come close and let me see you, child.” Mr. Reid reached for the glasses hanging from a chain around his neck.
His hand still on Catie’s shoulder, Ben urged her forward as if to reassure her it was okay. Catie moved a few steps closer and saw Mr. Reid’s eyes widen. He turned to Ben and said, “Great God, It’s astonishing!”
Ben smiled. “I know; she looks more like Mother every day.”
Upon closer inspection Catie could see the man had no legs. Whatever had befallen Mr. Reid had left him with only one stump of a knee. The other leg was missing altogether.
Overly delighted to have the company, Mr. Reid briefly chatted with Ben about local happenings and then, for Catie’s sake, went into a long detailed story of how their mother, Mrs. Darcy, had delivered Mr. Reid’s eldest daughter.
Margaret Darcy had stopped by to bring supper to his bedridden wife, when the poor woman went into labor. “The midwife was called, but that girl o’mine wasn’t waitin’ on no midwife. No, Mrs. Darcy herself had to catch the bundle!”
With obvious skepticism Catie looked at Ben, who was now relaxed against the stone wall. “It’s all true!” he said.
They reminisced a while longer as the sun reached as high as it was going to get that day. Noticing the hour, Ben declared that the two had better head home before a search party was sent out on their behalf. Shaking Mr. Reid’s hand, he asked if there was anything the family needed.
“To be honest, lad, me girl could use work. The missus can’t keep up the hours. Her health is not what it used to be. Maggie tried waitin’ tables at the local, but . . . ” Mr. Reid stopped and glanced at Catie. “To put it simple, Benny, it weren’t a proper place for the lass. The girl can make a tight bed though.”
The words had barely left the man’s lips when Ben said, “Mr. Reid, that’s not necessary. As you know Father left me with strict instructions to care for you and your family.”
Mr. Reid sat back as his friendly expression washed suddenly with offence. “Your father blamed himself for my stupidity! Me and mine won’t be beholden to no one. The only thing a Reid is going to take from the Darcys is pay for an honest day’s work.”
Ben glanced down at his boots like a scolded boy. “Yes, sir,” he responded quietly.
Catie was stunned. She had never seen anyone speak to Ben that way.
With a slight turn of his chair, Mr. Reid banged on the large plate glass window and called his daughter’s name. While they waited for the girl, he told Catie that Maggie was named for the fine lady who brought her into the world.
When the girl appeared at the door she seemed apprehensive, but her father’s insistence persuaded her out. Keeping her eyes low, she moved to his side. Mr. Reid told the girls they might rememb
er playing together as children, as Catie’s father would often bring her on his visits. Catie searched her brain but couldn’t recall the girl. In truth, even her father’s face was no longer easily remembered. She knew that if it wasn’t for Ben’s strong resemblance and pictures, her father would’ve already been lost to her forever. Recall the girl or not, an urging look from Ben told Catie to acknowledge her. She smiled pleasantly. “Hello, Maggie.”
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. T
here 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.
Echoes of Pemberley Page 12
