Echoes of Pemberley (44 page)

“Rather,” Catie agreed. “How do you know so much about medicine, Maggie?”

Keenly aware of their eyes upon her, Maggie set the tray down noisily and murmured so quietly they could barely hear her. “Me dad takes those yellow pills too. I wasn’t sure if Mrs. um. . . . if Rose was having a heart attack, but she had all of the symptoms. That’s how I knew she should take the aspirin.”

“You should be a nurse or a doctor,” Catie declared, making poor Maggie blush again only deeper. “Do you not think she would make a fine nurse, Nan?”

As if Catie’s words offended her, Maggie snatched up the tray and scuttled for the door. “Will there be anything else tonight?” she asked Rose.

“No, child, you be off to bed now.”

Maggie nodded and was gone.

“That poor child,” Rose said, shaking her head. “She’s had enough hardships in her eighteen years for a lifetime.”

“Did I say something wrong, Nan?” Catie asked.

“Not purposefully, Catherine,” Rose told her. “Don’t let it worry you. Now to bed with you. It’s getting late.”

Catie unconsciously looked at Sean before getting up, and he instinctively looked back.

“Good night, Catie,” he said softly.

“Good night,” she replied equally as hushed.

Catie stopped at the door. “Please tell me what I said that upset Maggie, Nan.”

“Didn’t I say not to let it worry you?” Rose gave Catie a pointed look.

“Yes, but it will.”

Though she bore a slight look of annoyance, Rose motioned Catie to her side and affectionately took the girl’s hands in hers. “Maggie was upset because she would like more than anything to be a nurse, but she can’t.”

“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 back 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.”