“We are getting out of this house and going on a picnic after church,” Rose declared at breakfast Sunday morning.
“We should invite Sean!” Catie quickly suggested.
“Yeah, Rose!” Geoffrey seconded. “We want Sean to come!”
“Yes . . . yes, Sean’s coming. Lord knows, I’ll take all the help I can get.” Rose sounded exasperated, but in all honesty, she could probably handle the three remaining Darcys as well if not better than Ben and Sarah. She never liked doing so, however, without making a fuss about it.
“Yay! Sean’s coming! Sean’s coming!” the boys shouted and banged their utensils on their plates. Clearly the Darcy twins intended to take full advantage of being temporarily parentless.
Catie laughed as Rose scolded, “Children, really!”
The Darcys’ preferred picnic spot on Pemberley Estate had been a favorite for many generations. Located along a particularly still, shallow part of the river, the surroundings created a perfect place for children. There was a large fallen tree, uprooted during a storm, which lay midway across the water at an ideal height for climbing. In an old, well-spread oak, Catie’s father had hung a sturdy, flat-board swing from a tall branch that carried its riders soaring over the water and velvety grass. Shade trees lined the banks of the river and beckoned picnickers to lie back as the swaying limbs rocked them into a tranquil afternoon nap. It was a peaceful spot full of happy memories, and Catie loved it. Many a summer Sunday afternoon she had spent here, and just the smell of the place evoked visions of her father pushing her on the swing, cautioning her to hold tight.
Today however, she was here with Sean, watching him look around and take in the beauty. Seeing him breathe deep and smile, she could tell he appreciated the naturalness of it — nothing altered; nature at its best. This had always been the way of the Darcys: less formality to the land, let nature be the artist, and enjoy what God has created.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked as they walked to the clearing.
“Oh, aye, it’s almost as picturesque as County Down.” He took the picnic hamper from her hand. “Here, allow me.”
“Thanks.” She smiled up at him as the twins ran up to them.
“Come push us, Sean.” Geoffrey tugged on Sean’s arm.
“Sorry, lads, I’m being a gentleman at the moment. Away off to the swing with you, I’ll be there directly.” The boys took off squealing, racing to be first to the swing. “And don’t go near the water!” he called after them.
“So, only almost?” she asked.
“Well.” He grinned and cut his eyes at her. “No true Irishman would ever admit to English soil being lovelier than his own. It’s bròd, you know.”
“It’s what?”
“Bròd . . . pride, but I reckon you English feel the same way. What fills the eye fills the heart, eh?”
She nodded. “I’d say that’s very true.”
He set the hamper down where Rose had spread the blankets. “Hope that’s as good as it is heavy, Auntie,” he said. “I’m starving!”
“You go amuse the twins.” Rose shooed him away. “We’ll have your lunch ready soon.” Sean lifted a cloth that covered a tray full of biscuits. “Off!” She slapped his wrist.
“Sorry, Aunt,” he said as crumbs dropped from his lips. Having obtained one tiny biscuit in the skirmish, Sean popped it in his mouth like a defiant little boy. “I did say I was starving.” He winked at Catie and ran off to push Geoffrey and George on the swing.
“Lord, my poor sister never can keep her lot fed. With five boys, someone’s always hungry.” Rose shook her head as she and Catie began unloading the food.
They worked in a silent chorus of preparing the meal as Rose glanced at her helper. She had intended to speak with Catie before bedtime tonight but decided to go ahead and have a word with her now. She appeared to be in an unusually good mood, and the distraction of the picnic might ease the necessary reproof.
“Catie,” Rose said casually as she unwrapped the sandwiches.
“Yes, Nan?”
“Stop ringing London, dear. You’re driving poor Mr. Radcliff mad.”
Catie slammed the picnic hamper closed. “No one tells me anything except stop or no! I’m the one who found the bloody letters after all.”
“Catherine, child, you must — ”
“I’m not a child!” Catie interrupted. “He treats me like I’m still eight years old. I’ll never be anything but the little sister to him. If Daddy were alive — ”
“Daddy, Daddy!” Rose scoffed. “Your memory of your father, Catherine, is rather distorted, coming from the vantage of a little girl . . . his pet no less. How do you think your brother came to be the man he is? I knew William Darcy well, Catherine. I cared for him — you know that — but he was not an easy man. His expectations for you would have been as high if not higher than your brother’s; make no mistake about it.” Looking a bit shamefaced, Catie began smoothing wrinkles in the picnic blanket. “Stop telephoning London,” Rose said again in a gentler voice, pulling Catie’s chin up. “He’ll explain all this business when he’s ready and not a minute before.”
“If at all,” she whispered doubtfully.
“Then that’s what you must accept.”
Catie stared at Rose. Even under a wide-brimmed hat, her high cheekbones were slightly pink from the sun, flattering her soft grey eyes. “Yes, Nan,” she answered softly.
“There’s a good girl.” Rose smiled. “Now fetch our men; they’ll be starved by now.”
After lunch Sean again occupied the twins, chasing and splashing them. So early in his manhood, there lingered still some little boy at heart.
“He misses his brothers,” Rose said to Catie as they watched from the blankets.
“What are they like?”
“Just as good hearted and just as handsome.” Rose grinned. “Then again, I am a bit partial. But Sean . . . he has always held a special place in my heart. I went to stay with my sister when he was born. It was right after I lost my Henry and just before I came to Pemberley.”
Catie had never thought of Rose’s life outside of Pemberley. She only knew of a Pemberley with Rose. Rose was Pemberley to Catie; Rose was home. “Promise me you will never leave me, Nan.” Catie nestled her head in Rose’s lap.
Rose gently pulled her fingers through Catie’s hair. “I’m sure it will be you that leaves Pemberley before me, child. Some very lucky — and I pray, patient — man will one day take you away from your ol’ nanny.”
“Never!” Catie vowed. “I shall stay with you forever, my dear, sweet Rose.” Grabbing Rose’s hand, Catie cradled it at her cheek.
Rolling her eyes, Rose shook her head and shooed Catie away with a scold. “Oh, go on with your silliness and let a poor woman rest while she can. Lord knows, I’ll not see another minute’s peace until your brother and Sarah return home.”
Giggling, Catie narrowly escaped a good snap of Rose’s tea towel as she ran to join Sean and the twins at their play.
Rose drifted in and out of sleep in the cool shade. As midday surrendered to afternoon, the sun was beginning to get hot and the cooler air near the river was appreciated. An hour or so later, she sat up and watched the frolicking foursome playing in the river. Jeans rolled up to their knees, Sean and the twins were scouring the river’s soft silt floor for treasures while Catie treaded the waters and headed downriver. The current was rushing from the storms, and Rose began to worry she had wandered too far.
“Sean!” she shouted, pointing in Catie’s direction as she got up and hurried over to the riverbank.
Seeing the source of his aunt’s concern, Sean nodded. “Catie!” he called out, cupping his hand around his mouth. “The water is too dangerous there, come back this way!”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Catie dismissed him. “I’ve played in this river all of my life.”
“Catherine Elizabeth Darcy, you will mind what Sean says and turn back this instant!” Rose demanded. “I’ll not have your broth
er returning home to a cracked skull!”
With an indignant expression Catie propped her hands on her hips and declared, “Mind Sean? Please, Rose, I know this river far better than he does. If anything he should heed what I say. I am perfectly safe where I am.”
“Oh, I’ll heed what you say all right, Miss Catie.” Sean always called her “Miss” when she spoke like royalty. “Do you wish to come back on your own two feet or shall I carry you sacked over my shoulder?” He bowed grandly and added, “I humbly await your command, m’lady.”
Catie’s hesitation was evident only by the dropping of her hands from her hips. Her voice kept its conviction. “I will come back when and only when I am ready, Mister Kelly!”
Sean smirked in a pleased sort of way. “You know, Miss Catie, I had a feeling you were going to choose over-the-shoulder.”
“Sean! Mind your temper,” she heard Rose warn as he started towards her in fast deliberate strides. Catie’s eyes grew wide as she hastily surveyed her surroundings. Behind her was the little drop off waterfall she had meandered down river to look at, and the embankment on both sides was far too high to climb. She was trapped, and with the flow of the current working in his favor, Sean was fast upon her.
“No!” she screamed as her feet were pulled from the water with such ease, she almost hadn’t realized he had picked her up. Finding herself suddenly upended, Catie could feel him struggling with the extra weight as he carefully navigated the large slick river stones. “Put me down!” she screamed.
“Be careful, Seany!” Rose called out fretfully.
“Relax, Auntie, all’s well; just toting the wee vixen back to safe waters.” He stopped long enough to shift his load and give Rose a reassuring smile.
“Vixen!” Catie repeated, beginning to flail in protest. “Who are you calling a vixen?
“Stop kicking, lass, or we’ll both be swept down the river. My aunt will be none too happy with me if I accidentally drop you over the wee falls there.”
“Over the falls?” Catie cried, nervously grabbing hold of his waistband to steady her jostling from his wobbly unpredictable footing.
“Oh, stop your whining. You’ve only your stubborn self to blame!” he huffed, stepping slowly and carefully.
Once back in the calm trickle of the wading pool, Sean stopped to catch his breath and utter a few choice words in Gaelic.
“Put me down!” she demanded. “And stop saying things I don’t understand!”
“You want down, eh, lass?”
“Yes, and now!
He winked at her nephews who were looking up at him wide-mouthed. “She wants down, boys. What do you say?”
The two heads nodded in unison.
Effortlessly, he hoisted his victim off of his shoulder and caught her cradled in his forearms. Looking down at her, his head flew back with laughter. Catie’s face was a deep red from anger and humiliation.
“Put . . . me . . . down!” she said slowly through closed teeth, her temper now at its pinnacle.
“As you wish, m’lady,” Sean said obligingly and gave her a gentle toss into the deeper waters of the pool.
Rose gasped, but Sean just walked casually out of the river and sat down on the bank while Catie floundered and slapped at the water to get her footing.
“Sean Kelly!” Rose gave him an insistent shove. “Get up from there and help her.”
“But, Auntie,” Sean argued, grinning. “She knows this river far better than me. How could I be of any help to her?”
Soaked from head to toe and coughing, Catie finally dredged herself from the river’s bottom. Her face was still scarlet, indicating the cold water had not chilled her fury. Sean tossed back his head and laughed again, making her glower as she sloshed towards him.
“No one . . . has ever . . . manhandled me that way before!” she shrieked, stopping in front of him. “You . . . you . . . ”
“Insufferable ass,” he finished for her as a wicked gypsy grin spread over his face.
“Arrgh!” Catie screamed and kicked a large amount of water in his direction.
Rose grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around Catie. “Go sit in the sun, child, so you’ll not catch cold,” she insisted. Then she turned to her nephew and gave the back of his head several smart clips.
Walking away, Catie smiled with appreciation as Sean cried, “ow . . . ow . . . ow,” in between each smack.
In the bright sunshine, away from the water, she spread out the blanket and lay down. Wet or not, it was a perfect day for sunbathing, and the late afternoon heat worked instantly to warm her skin. Back at the river, she heard Rose instructing the boys to collect their spades and buckets, her voice an equal mixture of aggravation and affection. A mother’s voice, Catie thought. A few seconds later a tall, shadowy figure took her light, and she opened one eye to a slit. Sean loomed overhead, the sun at his back like a great firestorm he had left in his wake.
“Aunt Rose said I had to apologize.” He sat down on the blanket next to her. “So?” he asked, still grinning. “How’s your pride? Still red and stinging?”
She glared at him. “Faring as good as your head I’d say. Is it still stinging?”
“Aye.” Sean rubbed the spot gingerly. “A mean arm, that woman. I reckon I deserved it though. A man should mind his elders whether he agrees with them or not.”
“Is that your idea of an apology?” she asked sharply.
Sean leaned over, rested his chin in his palm, and gazed at her.
“Well, are you going to apologize or stare at me?”
“You’re a very pretty girl, Catie Darcy, but when you’re spitting mad and soaking wet you’re downright beautiful. How’s that for an apology?”
Speechless, Catie rose up on one elbow and stared into his eyes, soft, blue, and sincere. Their faces were close, kissing close. But they weren’t alone.
“Seany!” Rose called. “Where’s George’s right shoe?”
Sean got up from the blanket, slowly, without releasing her eyes. “Coming, Auntie,” he called back. Then he turned and walked away.
* * *
On Wednesday morning it was approaching ten o’clock before Catie made her way down to the kitchen for breakfast. While waiting for her toast to pop, she noticed Mr. Johnson unwrapping a large beef tenderloin from white butcher’s paper.
“Are we having roast for dinner tonight?”
“That’d be why I’m unwrapping it, Miss Catie,” Mr. Johnson replied.
Catie knew Mr. Johnson would never make a tenderloin roast just for her, the twins, and live-in staff. “Is my brother coming home today?”
“Should be here any time now; the missus called early this morning to order supper . . . said they were leaving then.”
Leaving her toast, which popped as soon as she bolted from the kitchen, Catie ran to the front hall. Both large entrance doors were opened wide in anticipation of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s return, a centuries-old Pemberley tradition. If weather was at all permitting, the doors were propped back, fully open as a welcome home gesture to the master and mistress of the house.
The morning sun was spilling into the hall, bringing with it the smell of freshly cut grass. Catie stepped outside to sit on the steps — sit and wait as she had done as a small girl, waiting on a big brother who had been too long away at school. She would spend hours on those steps, watching the drive for any sign of him. Both her father and Rose had learned there was no cajoling her back inside if Ben was expected, so they gave up trying and instead made sure she was dressed properly for the weather.
It was only minutes before she saw her brother’s car and stood as it rolled smoothly over the gravel drive and stopped in front of the house. Ben stepped out and came around the car to give Sarah a hand, and Catie was sorry to see that he wore the same hard expression with which he had left.
He walked Sarah up the steps with his hand to the small of her back as Catie hurried down to meet them. “You’re home!” she said unnecessarily.
Sa
rah smiled warmly; she knew how worried and curious Catie had been. “How about this, Bennet, we have ourselves a little welcoming party. I do believe we were missed.” Sarah pressed her cheek to Catie’s in welcome. “Everything is fine,” she whispered softly into Catie’s ear.
Catie looked beyond Sarah to her brother. He didn’t look as if everything were fine.
“Is that true, Sis? Did you miss us?”
She nodded as he leaned over the top of her head and gave her his usual brotherly peck.
Catie walked alongside them up the steps and into the hall, studying Ben for a sign, a clue that he wanted to tell her something . . . but nothing. He simply kissed Sarah and told her he would be in his study the rest of the afternoon if she needed him.
Disappointed, discouraged, and longing for his attention, an explanation, something, Catie padded softly behind him down the long corridor to his study. Reverently, she stood and watched him fumble through his pockets for the key to unlock his door. Once he found it, he slid it into the lock and glanced back at her. He knew what she wanted, but he just couldn’t do this right now. Ben’s head fell back as a long heavy sigh left his lungs through puffy cheeks. “Not now, Catie, please, dearest . . . not right now.”
Not responding, for his words required none, Catie watched as he turned the key and disappeared into his study. She never blinked until the door closed behind him.
Perfumed arms wrapped her from behind, as Sarah’s whisper tickled her ear once more. “He needs our patience right now, dear. He has been betrayed by someone he thought was a close friend.”
Catie gasped and turned to face her. “Mr. Worthington!”
Sarah nodded and added, “And his own good judgment.”
“But he’s not at fault. How could he have known?” Catie protested.
Sarah’s eyes moved to the closed study door. “Try convincing him of that.” Catie’s own gaze followed Sarah’s, her throat suddenly thick with emotion. “Give him some time, a little space.”
Echoes of Pemberley Page 22