“Why?” Catie asked.
Rose tapped Catie’s hand meaningfully. “Because, Catherine, we don’t all have the same opportunities in life.”
Catie’s cheeks colored. How could she have been so insensitive? “Because she’s poor?”
“Yes, she’s poor, and her family needs the money she earns here, and she has a learning disability. Maggie’s life is full of reasons she can’t, Catie.”
“I should apologize,” Catie said.
“I think it would be better if you didn’t.” Rose patted her hand once more. “Go to bed, Catherine. Not everything in this world can be fixed.”
When Catie left the room, Emma said to her sister, “She’s exactly how you described her all these years, Rose. Fresh baked bread, hot and crusty on the outside but soft and warm in the middle.”
“That’s my Catie.” Rose chuckled lightly.
“Well, I should be off to bed meself.” Sean stood and stretched. “You women don’t stay up too late now.”
“We managed more than twenty years before you came along,” his mother crisply informed him, and he laughed.
“So you did, Ma. Well, good night.”
Finally alone, Rose looked at Emma with a rueful grimace. “You do know that those two children of ours are extremely fond of each other.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Emma drew a deep breath then blew it out slow and resigned. “But when worlds as different as theirs collide, it’s like a train wreck; lives become derailed. My Seany knows better. He couldn’t live Catie Darcy’s life any more than she could live his.”
“It hurts me, Em. I can’t bear seeing them both so unhappy. And there is such a thing as a happy medium.”
“Stop worrying, Sister, no one has ever died of a broken heart,” Emma said as the shadow of a frown came over her face. “But I do hope that whoever does marry my son looks at him like Catherine Darcy does.”
* * *
Why is such abundance allotted to only a selected few, while the rest suffer through life with very little? The age-old question troubled Catie’s sleep. Rose was right; not everything in the world can be fixed . . . but some things can. By suppertime the next evening, Catie Darcy had accomplished “fixing” at least one: a promising future for Maggie Reid. All she needed now was her brother’s consent.
Ben put down his fork, wiped his mouth, and sat back in his chair. When his sister wasn’t nervously picking at her food, she was staring at him with that look in her eyes. Clearly she had something important to say. And knowing his sister as he did, a relaxed position was in all probability going to be needed.
“What’s on your mind, Catherine?” He swirled and drank his last swallow of wine.
“My mind?”
“Yes, your mind, that constantly overactive area between your ears. I can tell when you’re conspiring, so out with it. What do you want?”
Taking an uneasy sip of water, Catie glanced over at Sarah and then back to Ben. “Actually, I was wondering if I might speak with you in your study after supper.”
Ben’s eyes instantly traveled to Sarah’s but were met with an expression that said, “don’t look at me.”
He looked back at his sister. “About?”
“A private matter.”
Ben nodded worriedly. “After supper then.”
With no real work at hand, Ben paced from his desk to the window, while, unbeknownst to him, his sister paced the gallery.
Finally resolved in her strategy, Catie made the short walk to Ben’s study. The door was partially open, so she pushed it a little further. “Brother,” she said to his turned back.
Glad to get the matter under way, Ben motioned her in and settled behind his desk. Catie sat down in the chair across from him, purposefully not making herself comfortable. “Bennet,” she said with a businesslike air. “I need to discuss a financial matter with you.”
“Financial matter?” he asked. “What sort of financial matter?”
Catie swallowed down her nervousness and continued, “My money. I know that Mother and Dad both left me an inheritance, and I’d like to use some of that inheritance.”
“For?”
“A gift,” she said. “I want to give someone a gift.”
Ben’s brows lifted. “And may I ask to whom you plan on giving this . . . gift?”
“Maggie Reid.”
“Maggie Reid?” Ben repeated.
“Yes.” She nodded.
Ben got up and came around the desk to sit in the chair next to his sister. “Catherine.” He leaned on his knees to be level with her. “I think you’d better explain.”
“Will you listen to me as a woman coming to you with a request, and not as your baby sister?”
He considered this for several blinks and then said, “I will.”
“All right. Maggie Reid, I believe, has a calling to the field of medicine.” She paused to see if he was taking her seriously.
“Go on.” Ben sat up, offering her his full attention. “I’m listening.”
“Well, she has nursed her father most of her life, ever since his accident. I know for a fact that she would have pursued a career in nursing but unfortunately wasn’t able to finish school because of a learning disability.”
“I see.” Ben tapped his steepled fingers contemplatively. “What is it that you wish to do for Maggie?”
Catie felt a slight jolt of excitement. She hadn’t expected this to go so smoothly. “Well,” she continued, beginning to relax. “This disability of hers is called dyslexia. It makes reading difficult. It can’t be fixed, but with the help of a specialist her reading skills could greatly improve. Specialists cost money, money the Reids don’t have. Maggie must learn to read. None of her dreams can be achieved until she does.”
“Catherine.” Ben leaned close to his sister again. “I think the idea you have come to me with is very noble, but Mr. Reid is a proud man. You heard him yourself. He won’t accept charity. I fear he may look upon this gift of yours as just that . . . charity.”
“No.” Catie shook her head. “Mr. Reid is pleased that Maggie will be taught to read properly. I rode out today and spoke with him myself. That’s how I found out that Maggie has dyslexia. Mr. Reid told me all about it.”
“You’ve already spoken with Mr. Reid about this?”
“Yes, but please don’t be cross with me for not coming to you directly. I wanted to learn more about Maggie’s disability before I spoke with you.”
Ben released a short disbelieving laugh. “He was pleased, you say.”
“Yes, Brother, quite pleased.”
“Catherine, do you have any idea how many years I’ve been trying to get that man to take my help? And you just waltz into his little cottage and offer his daughter a specialist and he accepts it? No . . . is pleased to accept it?” Ben stood up and Catie stared up at him watchfully. “So you told him you wanted to give Maggie a financial gift, and John Reid was pleased?”
“Not exactly.” Catie looked away, cringing.
“What do you mean, not exactly?” Ben asked, lowering his voice.
“Well . . . ” she hesitated.
“Sis.” Ben sat back down. “I think you’d better tell me.”
“Well, you’re right; at first he wasn’t so keen on the idea. Not so keen at all.”
Ben inclined his head. “Then how the devil did you convince him?”
Catie cringed again. “I’m afraid I lost my temper.”
Ben sat back and closed his eyes. “Catherine, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
Not opening his eyes, Ben said, “Well, best get it over with. Tell me what you said.”
Catie bit her bottom lip in apprehension. “I called him a ripe old curmudgeon and told him that he should stop being so bloody pigheaded.”
Speechless, Ben expelled a small moan and began to massage his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“It’s okay, Ben; Mr. Reid just laughed.”
Ben’s eyes popped b
ack open. “Laughed?”
Catie nodded. “He laughed harder than I’ve ever heard anyone laugh before and said I was the spit of my mum inside and out.”
“And this, I assume, is when he agreed to allow Maggie to see the specialist?”
“Yes. He said the decision was Maggie’s of course, but that she would have his blessing. So what do you say, Ben? Can I have the money for Maggie?”
Ben stared into his sister’s eager face, while in his mind his father’s voice came to him: “Benny, the real treasure of a man’s wealth is in the good he achieves with it.”
“Or a woman’s, Dad,” he whispered.
Chapter 28
The colorful reds and golds of autumn had been generously dispersed and scattered over the harvested valleys of Derbyshire. The mornings were brisk and glistened with frost. The days, however, were unusually sunny and mild and were frequently topped off with the fanfare of a red October sky, a deceptive splendor that usually ushered in a cold windy night.
Saturday morning had been a tedious one for Catie. She had helped Sarah with secretarial duties by addressing correspondence for the first half of the day. The midday sun, aided by a soft autumn wind, put a dance in the vibrantly colored leaves, making concentration difficult. Catie’s eyes wandered to the window and lingered there with an unmistakable longing until her reverie was broken by the clearing of Sarah’s throat.
With a pitiful sigh, Catie resumed her task, only to be interrupted minutes later by the playful laughs of her nephews, running about the garden with a new puppy. The dog was a gift from their father for reaching the ripe old age of six. She could hear Rose and Mrs. Kelly heartily laughing at the spectacle, and the window was once again enjoying a concentration the envelopes were obviously not going to receive. Sarah, the indulgent soul that she was, finally caved in.
“Oh, go on! Lord knows half of those letters will end up in China somewhere if you don’t relieve your fidgets.”
Catie grinned as she bolted from the confines of the small, lady’s study, making Sarah call after her, “I saw that smirk, young lady! And put on a coat!” Giving her head a defeated shake, Sarah walked over to the window and watched for a few seconds until she was likewise summoned by the call of a pretty day. Unable to resist the sight of her adorable twins in pursuit of their equally adorable four-legged playmate, she gave her desk a regretful glance and reached for her jacket.
As soon as Catie stepped out of the house, the sun hid behind an unpromising cloud. Tightening her fists at her sides, she gave the earth a stamp in protest as she turned an angry eye to the heavens. The sun reappeared instantly, as if in fear of her wrath.
Fearing the worst for the afternoon weather, Catie passed up the lure of the puppy and decided to give Chloe some exercise before the rain set in.
“It’s not a good idea, missy,” Percival replied gruffly to her request to have her horse saddled. “That mare of yours no more likes the rain than my ol’ bones.”
“Then I’ll turn back at the first drop.” Catie smiled sweetly at him and added, “I promise.”
No more able to tell Miss Catie “no” than he was able to fly, Percival went off grumbling to his task.
As Catie approached the mounting block, pulling on her gloves, Sean rode into the stable yard.
“Are you just now going out?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“As you see.” She cut her eyes at him and mounted.
“The weather could turn any minute. It is already quite dark less than a mile from here,” he warned. “It’s why I came back.”
“Then my ride shall be unfortunately short.” Catie gave him one last glance, clicked her tongue, and cantered away.
Percival came to take Sean’s horse but he waved him off. “No, thanks, Percival, I believe I’ll keep a watch over Pemberley’s resident pain in the arse.”
“You said it, mate, not me!” Percival said, laughing.
Catie immediately detected her trail and picked up her pace to force Sean out of his secretive stalk. A devious grin and an aggressive pump of her heart sent a surge of blood rushing through her veins, and she was at a full gallop well before she reached the river with Sean hard on her heels and gaining. In seconds they were at an even gallop, nose to nose. Catie’s heart was beating as hard as the pounding hooves below her. In her mind’s eye she had been here many times, running across the fields of Pemberley with Sean galloping at her side.
Forgetting the impending weather, she continued carefree and fast, and far from home. She didn’t want to wake up from the dream again and have him stolen away. But this wasn’t a dream. It was real. Sean was there, galloping beside her with that lovely smile on his face and that desperately missed twinkle of challenge in his eyes.
Then, from out of nowhere, they crashed into a driving rain. Catie pulled Chloe to a stop and looked over at Sean. He motioned for her to follow him, and they rode away from the river and into the farmlands. They found a small shed, empty, to their good fortune. The lean-to had only three walls and a tin roof that exaggerated the weather to a deafening degree.
While Sean settled the horses, Catie removed her coat to shake out the wetness. “Steady on, girl,” she heard him say soothingly to a very anxious Chloe. “It’ll be over soon.” She watched him ruffle Chloe’s ears and smiled that he remembered how the horse liked that.
“When it lets up some we’ll head back,” he said, peeking out from under the roof. Then he looked over at her. “Are you warm enough?”
“I am . . . thanks.”
Truly alone for the first time in months, she felt there was still something between them, something unresolved.
“You seem to have made amends with your father,” Catie said.
“Aye.” He smiled. “Me da has turned his aspirations to my brother Gabriel. It’s for the best; he’s better suited for the horse business than me.”
“Is he supporting you in your education then?”
“Morally, yes, but then again that’s all I’ve ever asked for.”
Silence took hold again, and Catie prayed for a break in the downpour. Having already given her best effort, she leaned against the closest wall. They could stand there stupidly mute until the rain stopped for all she cared.
“I heard my aunt and mam talking about Maggie,” he said finally. “I think what you did for her was kind, very kind.”
“Maggie’s quick thinking gave Rose a second chance. For that I could never repay her.” Not wanting to look at him, she scuffed her boot on the dirt floor.
“Catie,” he said after a few moments, raking his fingers through his wet black hair as if mustering up courage. “I . . . I owe you an apology. If you only knew how many times I sat down to write to you, to explain myself, to ask your forgiveness.” He glanced at her to see if his words were having any effect, but she had turned away from him. Sean came up behind her. He reached out to touch her, but with an expression of sheer agony, stopped himself. “Please say you forgive me, Catie,” he whispered.
“There is nothing to forgive, Sean,” she said, keeping her back to him. “I behaved like a silly, foolish schoolgirl. Clearly, I misunderstood the attention you were giving me. So, please . . . let us both forget it.”
“You didn’t misunderstand anything, Catie; my — ”
“I said forget it!” She spun around, her eyes blurry with emotion. “Please, say no more.”
“Damn it, Catie! I must say this.” He took a step closer, and she lowered her head. “Please, look at me.” Sean reached out and pulled her face up, but she stared past him, not trusting herself to meet his eyes. “I said look at me.” She obeyed him then, her eyes glistening with the pain of her broken heart. “Christ, Catie, you’re tearing me apart.”
Her tears broke free and streamed down her face, and he gently wiped them away with his thumbs. “Say what you must say.” Her words and face were like stone. “Say it now, Sean, or you may never again have the chance.”
H
e swallowed and his throat rippled with the effort it took to do so. “I lied to you that night under the fireworks. I had to; there was no other choice. Catie, I come from a poor Irish horse farmer. I know what it’s like to do without, to want something you can’t have. I could never give you the life you’re accustomed to. Look what you did for Maggie. Look around you! What could I possibly ever offer you? That’s why I left, because I’m a coward. I left rather than face you and the truth.”
“What is the truth?” she asked, still looking him directly in the eye.
“The truth is that my feelings for you are stronger than I have ever felt for any other human being. The truth is . . . I love you, Catie Darcy. But I mustn’t — we mustn’t. You deserve better than me. I’m no good for you, and I never can be. That’s all.”
A torrent of emotion rushed over Catie and she plowed her face into her hands and wept.
“God, Catie, please don’t cry,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her tightly against him. “Please, don’t.”
His embrace was like a soothing ointment on a festering sore. As if she’d been given a tranquilizing shot, Catie relaxed into a calm serenity in his hold. The coming together of their two souls seemed to be a destiny far out of the realm of their understanding, and they held each other silently, afraid to let go . . . afraid to speak.
At last Catie whispered, “I don’t care about the life I’m accustomed to, Sean.”
“Catie —” he started, but she cut him off.
“No, Sean, now you listen.” She pulled back but held his gaze as she spoke. “I have been a selfish being my whole life. My behavior at times has been unpardonable. But what no one really knew was . . . I pitied myself. Pemberley’s orphan, no mum, no daddy, feel sorry for her like she feels sorry for herself! But you never felt sorry for me. You made me look at myself. You made me look at everything and everyone and see, actually see. Even with Ben, for the first time in eight years I realized that I wasn’t the only person who lost their father when that plane crashed.”
Echoes of Pemberley Page 32
