Echoes of Pemberley

by Cynthia Ingram Hensley

  Sarah, who wasn’t required to submit to such gestures, took this as her cue. “Of course, I could instruct her.” Ben gave his wife a look so incredulous, it forced Sarah to retaliate. “Don’t look at me like that, Bennet. My teaching credentials may be dusty, but I do not think them obsolete.”

  “Now there’s a grand idea if I’ve ever heard one!” Catie exclaimed, smiling broadly.

  Ben looked from sister to wife and knew his only hope was to divide and conquer. “Catherine, go to bed. Sarah and I need to discuss the matter privately.”

  Unable to stop herself, Catie asked, “And may I expect an answer before I go to sleep?”

  “You can expect an answer when I have one. Now go to bed.”

  Without so much as a nod to her brother, Catie spun around on her heels and went to her room. Only a mild defiance, considering she had the will to argue the matter till dawn.

  * * *

  Sarah exhaled a relaxing breath as the caressing silk of her nightdress made its way down her body. She slid on her dressing gown and crossed the corridor to check on her sleeping sons. There had been no more signs of stomach upset since late last evening, and their heads felt cool to the touch. She bestowed a kiss on their cheeks and quietly left the room.

  Ben was lying on the sofa of their sitting room with an arm draped over his eyes. “Rose gave me quite a scare this morning,” he said as she came in.

  “The scary part will be getting her to follow the doctor’s orders once we get her home.” Sarah loaded her hands with lotion and smoothed it down her arms, with extra effort at the elbows. Then she sat on the sofa and leaned against his legs to apply the remainder to her shins. “Did you have the cottage readied for the Kelly boys?” she asked casually.

  “Heat and lights have already been turned on,” he replied lightly.

  “Well, goodnight, darling.” Sarah leaned over to give him a kiss but was halted by Ben raising his arm and revealing his eyes.

  “Goodnight? What do you mean good-night?”

  “Its meaning, I believe, is universal, Mr. Darcy. A polite parting till morning, wishing the person you are offering it to a restful sleep.”

  “You know what I mean, Sarah. Are you not going to try and convince me to allow Catie to stay home for the duration of Rose’s recovery?”

  “Why would I do that, darling? The decision is yours after all.”

  Ben leaned up on one arm. “It isn’t that I don’t want her here. It’s just, what if Rose does get sick again? You heard the doctor. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

  “Catie is capable of enduring more than you give her credit for.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.” He smiled at her.

  She smiled back. “Well, it’s true. Plus having her here might be beneficial to Rose.”

  He sighed thoughtfully. “But will having her here be beneficial to you. Sarah, I need not tell you that my sister is not the most attentive student to her studies.”

  “You may not believe this, Bennet Darcy, but when I was still teaching, the children referred to me as Miss Meanie.” He chuckled. “But you’re right.” She twitched her mouth ruefully. “With Rose recovering I will be stretched to my limits.”

  “Exactly,” he concurred.

  “Though with Catie’s elegant hand, she would be very helpful with my secretarial duties in Rose’s absence. I mean the Christmas invitations will be coming in starting this week, and they must be attended to. And the — ”

  “All right . . . all right, she can stay! I’ll be damned to misery if she doesn’t!” Ben sat up and was met with a satisfied shine in his wife’s face. “Miss Meanie.”

  Sarah laughed and tried once again to kiss him, but he stopped her.

  “Oh, no, I’m not finished. There will be rules.”

  “Like?”

  “Like . . . if I see that she is falling behind in her studies, she will be at Davenport before the day is out. And furthermore, she is returning to school at the start of the next term . . . even if Rose isn’t one hundred percent!”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of at the moment.” Ben fell back on the sofa and threw his arm over his eyes again.

  “I do love you, Bennet Darcy.” Sarah lifted his arm and finally kissed him.

  “Yes, yes,” he replied and waved her away.

  Smiling, Sarah got up and headed towards the hall. “I shall be back directly.”

  “Where are you going now?”

  “Why, to tell Catie she can stay home for a few weeks.”

  “Please tell me, Sarah Darcy, was the ink dry on our marriage certificate before the two of you began to conspire against me?”

  “Oh, Bennet, we weren’t even engaged when your sister and I began conspiring against you.” She disappeared around the corner and then popped her head back into the room. “Ben, would you please go down and fix me a sandwich? I’m starving.”

  “Starving? Sarah, we just ate an hour ago.”

  “Well, I can’t help it!” she exclaimed. “This child of yours has the appetite of a horse.”

  “I knew it,” he whispered elatedly as soon as she had disappeared again. “A boy! Mr. Kelly and his five strapping sons, ha! I’m not far behind you old man — not far at all.”

  Chapter 26

  Catie looked up from her reading as the sound of footsteps approached her door. Anxiously, she put the book aside and waited. “Come in,” she called out to a soft rap, as her little internal voice repeated, “Please don’t say no, please don’t say no.” Sarah’s smiling face gave her answer, and Catie’s relieved words came in a rush. “He said yes! How did you do it? He seemed as unmovable as a mountain.”

  “Even mountains can be persuaded to move, Catherine — with the proper delicacy of skill, that is.” Sarah winked at Catie as she eased onto the bed beside her. “I am worried about you though, Miss Catie Darcy.”

  “Worried? Why?”

  “A certain young gentleman . . . S . . . K,” Sarah said, tapping Catie’s knee affectionately.

  “Oh, there’s no need to worry about him.” Catie reached for her book. “Surely you don’t think I’m still in love with him. That was months ago! Anyway, I gave him a good look over at the hospital tonight and decided he’s really rather ugly.” Catie opened the book and furrowed her brow in feigned concentration.

  “Cath-er-ine,” Sarah drawled out for effect.

  “What?” Catie asked innocently.

  “I am very tired and in no mood to deliver a lecture.”

  “There’s no need, Sarah!” Catie snapped the book closed. “I already know what you would say. And, yes . . . I understand. I understand perfectly . . . all right?”

  “All right.” Sarah, put her hands up in surrender. “I’ll say no more. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.” Catie watched Sarah cross the room, her usual graceful stride was made even more so with the swelling life inside of her. The younger sister instinctively touched a curious hand to her own flat stomach. “Sarah,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  * * *

  “Miss Catie . . . Miss Catie,” Maggie whispered loudly, moving hurriedly around Catie’s room, opening curtains and laying out fresh towels. “Miss CATIE!” she finally shouted.

  “What!” Catie sat up straight. “Is it Rose? Did the hospital call?”

  “No.” Maggie shook her head.

  “Then why are you waking me up?” Catie asked. “What time is it?”

  “Half past seven,” Maggie replied.

  “It’s too early.” Catie slumped back down and pulled the covers over her head. “Come back and wake me in an hour. We aren’t leaving for the hospital until nine.”

  “But, Miss Catie,” Maggie persisted, standing over her now. “Mr. Darcy expects you to be at breakfast this morning. You have guests, and he said if you weren’t there . . . he said . . . ”

  Catie lowered the cove
rs and peered out at her. “He said what?”

  “Oh, please don’t make me repeat what he said,” Maggie pleaded, wringing the towels she was holding.

  “Let me guess.” Catie pulled the covers back and rubbed her eyes. “Something like . . . having me hung up by my toes and beaten like a dusty old rug.”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Oh, all right!” Catie slipped down to the floor and took a towel. “You need not look so worried, Maggie. He was only joking.”

  “How am I supposed to know? He always looks so stern and sour, just like your ancestors in all those paintings. Lord, some of their faces give me gooseflesh.”

  “My ancestors look dignified, Maggie, not sour.”

  Trying her best to look contrite, Maggie said, “If you say so, Miss Catie.”

  “I do.”

  When Catie came into the breakfast room, she drew up short and her eyes widened. Thank God she didn’t gasp. There, sitting on one side of the table, were the Kelly brothers. Of course they would have to have breakfast in the house. But it hadn’t occurred to her they would be in her breakfast room. They saw her too and stood with such haste there was a thunderous sound of chairs scraping the floor. Rather discomfited by their display of manners, Catie looked at Sarah and went awkwardly to the only empty seat, which was unfortunately next to her brother and directly across from Sean. Smiling his signature broad smile, Sean came quickly around the table and pulled out the chair for her.

  “Good mornin’, Miss Catie.” His thick Irish brogue brushed against her neck as he settled her in her seat.

  “Thank you,” she replied quietly, giving his brothers a bashful nod.

  The boys noisily sat down.

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the show of ceremony, lads,” Ben said, raising a witty eyebrow to his attentive audience. “But if you insist on standing every time my sister walks into a room, I’m afraid you will find yourselves quite light-headed. She buzzes around this house like a horsefly trying to find an exit.”

  The lads roared with laughter.

  “Brother!” Catie hissed, her face growing scarlet. She turned again to Sarah for support but found her line of vision blocked by a mass of a man. Mr. Kelly was as broad as he was tall and hovered over his plate in a way that would have earned him a sharp reprimand had his last name been Darcy. Irritated, Catie lowered her eyes and silently ate her breakfast.

  Talk of horses, horses, and more horses came from each side of her, as she listened faintly to Sarah and Mrs. Kelly dote over the three littlest boys at their end of the table. Left with no companionship, Catie performed the much anticipated task of scrutinizing the four younger Kelly brothers seated across from her.

  Gabriel looked to be about eighteen and was every bit as handsome as Sean, though slightly taller, which gave him a lankier appearance. Cian and Ronan were very close in age — early teens, Catie surmised. But unlike most boys, who are all limbs and feet at that age, the middle Kelly brothers seemed to be faring a little better. Both had dark, wavy locks and those trademark Kelly blue eyes. The two appeared to be somewhat rambunctious, making her wonder whether they alone were the reason the brothers were exiled to the cottage. Wee Joseph, as Sean so often called him, was a definite favorite of his mother’s: a beautiful child, quiet and watchful, much like the Darcys’ George. Catie couldn’t suppress a smile as she thought of Sean looking much like him not so long ago.

  The tedious, sluggish conversation of getting to know one another drew out what should have been a short meal. Sitting across from Sean, Catie’s eyes met with his often, and each time they did there was another stab to her already brittle emotions. It was almost as if some unknown force pulled them into each other’s gaze. The sting of his stare was so excruciating that she tried not to cast even a glance his way and breathed a prayer of thanks when the meal finished.

  “Catie.” Sean caught up with her in the hall, glancing back nervously to see if anyone was listening.

  “I haven’t the time to speak with you. My brother and I are leaving for the hospital shortly.” She started away from him.

  “Listen to me.” His voice was low but insistent.

  Catie spun around to face him. Her heart was racing, and she was sure her cheeks blazed as hot as they felt. “Do you really think I have any desire to hear whatever it is you have to say?”

  He stared at her for several breaths.

  “Comin’, Seany?” one of the brothers asked.

  “Aye, Cian, I’m coming,” Sean said to his brother. Both his tone and expression were dejected, but Catie refused to feel sorry for him.

  The morning visit to the hospital was an unsettling one. Rose had a long night of reactions to some of the medicines she was taking, and her weak and ashen appearance from the previous day was worsened by a cold sweat and fever. Seeing the woman she loved so dearly looking so feeble, shocked Catie and she crumbled in her brother’s arms. Ben comforted her with the gentle words their mother or father might have given her, all the while praying for Rose and praying his sister would be spared this grief. When her tears dried, they sat holding hands without speaking, listening to the repetitive song of hospital monitors until it was time to leave.

  * * *

  “Is Nanny Rose going to die, Bennet?” Catie asked in the car on the way home.

  It was the first time Ben had heard his sister call Rose that in years. “I don’t think so, Sis, but I’m praying all the same.”

  She brushed away a tear. “Me too.”

  Consumed with the dreadful “what ifs,” Catie had to force herself to do something constructive and decided to devote an hour or so to her piano. The music room was the one place she was sure she could be alone. She especially liked to play when she was down. The somber resonance of a poignant sonata was like a comforting embrace to her. Rose knew this about Catie. Rose knew everything about Catie. If Rose were home, she would come to her and ask, “What’s weighing so heavy on your bosom, child?”

  In the music room she was surprised and somewhat annoyed to see Seamus Kelly reading the newspaper and having his tea. Were the bloody Kellys everywhere? He looked up when she entered.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kelly, I didn’t mean to interrupt your solitude. I’ll come back later.”

  “Catherine, please stay,” Mr. Kelly’s deep voice gently requested.

  Catie took a tentative step closer. Because of Sean’s description of the man she was hesitant, and he did have an intimidating presence with his large barrel chest and bushy eyebrows.

  “I–I was going to practice my piano, sir, and I fear the noise will be a nuisance to your reading.”

  “Nonsense, I could use a bonny song to balance the melancholy of these past two days.” Mr. Kelly’s large smile swelled even his broad chest, and Catie relaxed a little.

  “If you’d like,” she said and took her seat at the piano.

  Mr. Kelly stepped over to the instrument and asked, “I don’t suppose the little miss knows any Irish tunes?”

  “Yes.” Catie gave him a brief smile. “I know a few. How about ‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling,’ Mr. Kelly?”

  He expelled a guttural sound of displeasure. “Not Irish, lass. The song was written in America for a musical production.”

  “Oh.” Catie winced apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “But why not!” Seamus Kelly bellowed so sudden and loud she jumped. “It was meant as a tribute to the Emerald Isle after all, and it is a lively tune. ‘Irish Eyes’ it is, Catherine!”

  Catie took up the song with alacrity, and within seconds the Irishman began singing along in a rich baritone voice. His deep timbre reverberated throughout the halls of Pemberley, bringing Ben and Sarah to act as audience. When finished, singer and pianist bowed to claps of praise.

  “Bravo!” Sarah cried. “You’ve a beautiful voice, Seamus.”

  “Thank you.” Mr. Kelly bowed slightly and turned to Ben. “I don’t reckon you’d want to show me your fine stables now. I could use the air.”
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br />   “I would be delighted!” Ben smiled.

  “May I join you?” Catie asked. “I’d love to introduce Mr. Kelly to Chloe.”

  “I believe, Sis, that your music awaits you,” Ben said, squelching Catie’s enthusiasm.

  “To be glued to an instrument, drudging over sheets of music on such a day as this one?” Mr. Kelly made another gruff sound of displeasure. “The child best take in all of the fresh air she can. Winter will be upon us before we know it, and . . . ” He turned and gave Catie a conspiring wink. “And when there are no more pretty days as we have before us now, the instrument and music will get more than enough attention. Eh, Catherine?”

  “Aye, Mr. Kelly,” Catie answered in her best Irish accent, giving her brother a vindicated smile.

  If Bennet Darcy was anything he was a gracious host. He inclined his head in acceptance and gestured the unlikely cohorts to take the lead. “Sarah?” he said to his wife on his way out. “Would you like to join us as well?”

  “No. I think a warm cup of tea will suit me instead.” She chuckled softly and added in a hushed tone, “But keep an eye on the two of them. They could become dangerous allies.”

  He pointed to his eye, telling her he would, then stepped close and whispered, “Any word from the hospital?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But that’s good news. Emma said she would ring us if Rose’s condition worsened. It was nice to see Catie smile for a change, was it not?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes it was.”

  Talk of breeding had Catie walking a good pace behind the men, and she fell back even further when Mr. Kelly broached the topic of mounting difficulties. Horse husbandry, it seemed, was absorbing conversation. Trailing at such a distance, she was the first to notice Sean’s approach.

  “Da,” he called out to his father. “Have you seen the boys?”

  Mr. Kelly stopped. “What do you mean have I seen the boys? Didn’t I tell you to keep them out of trouble?”

  “Well, you did, Da.” Sean glanced around as if hoping to spy them somewhere. “But I had a wee bit of studying to do and let Gabe take them to the river. But they should’ve been back by now.”