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asked, softer but still firm.
    “Just shouting,” she said, swallowing the truth. “Who was that man?”
    His eyes flicked over her head and into the parlor. “A business associate, no one for you to concern yourself with. Now run along and stop eavesdropping at open windows.”
    “I wasn’t,” she said, not caring how insulted she sounded. God, I hate when he treats me like a child. “I heard shouting and thought you might need help.”
    Ben studied his sister momentarily. The top of her head had yet to fully reach his shoulder and he easily outweighed her by five stone. “Thank you, Sis,” he said contrite and somewhat amused. “But as you can see, I am quite capable of taking care of myself.” He raised his wrist and looked at his watch. “Now shouldn’t you be heading off for the stables? I don’t really care to make another round of apologies to young Kelly.”
    Staring up at him, Catie made no attempt to move. Annoyed, Ben breathed deep and then released a rush of frustrated air while thoughtfully rubbing the back of his neck, as if he might find there beneath his hairline some better way of dealing with his sister. “Catie, sometimes business and money matters get heated, that is all. Now please do as I say and stop fretting over a few harsh words between men, all right?”
    He might as well have given her a lollypop or a pat on the head for all that explanation was worth. But it was all she was going to get, and she knew it. “All right,” she repeated quietly.
    “Good. I’ll see you at supper then.” Smiling now, Ben gave her one of his brotherly winks that felt more patronizing than usual, and then he was gone.

Chapter 4
    Sean heaved the last two buckets of water over the stall doors with a grunt. By the twelfth trip, the buckets had grown heavy and his arms tired. “Don’t be a glutton now, buachaill ,” he warned the aging gelding behind the door. He removed his flat cap to swab a handkerchief over his brow and the back of his neck as the horse whinnied loudly and snorted in response. Sean chuckled and patted an offered nose. “Aye, you like the Gaelic, eh, mo buachaill ,” he crooned to the horse. “Perhaps your ancestor was the steed of a great Celtic warrior then? Cùchulainn’s Liath Macha maybe; he was a fine Ulster lad, eh?”
    “That the last of it, Kelly?” Clancy asked brusquely. He was a tiny man, a former jockey according to Aunt Rose, but he had a deep and ragged voice, much like Sean’s larger, barrel-chested father.
    “Yeah, that’s it.” Sean smiled down at Pemberley’s stable master. Tiny or not, the sixtyish man ran a tight ship — or stable rather. Nothing was out of place, and the cobblestone floor was as clean as the kitchen’s. “Need anything else?” he asked. Clancy was without a groom today, so Sean had graciously filled in. He wasn’t hired to water horses or muck stalls, but the work was familiar to him, and he liked the routine.
    “No, I thank you for the hand though. Me brother-in-law will be back tomorrow, or he’ll be out on ’is ear. I’ll see to it that you get ’is wages for the day.”
    “There’s no need. I was glad to help.” As he spoke, Sean knocked the stable dust off of his cap and pulled it back on his head, smiling good-humoredly down at Clancy.
    If only slightly, Clancy reflected the smile. A rare thing for the old curmudgeon , Sean thought.
    “You did the work . . . you get the pay,” Clancy stated in a manner that would brook no argument, and he walked away, grumbling under his breath about his useless brother-in-law.
    Shaking his head, Sean laughed and leaned over the stall to put out his hand again to the horse. The animal came to him, and he briskly scratched the long neck, cooing softly in Gaelic. Before long, Catie Darcy was standing behind him. As tiny as Clancy but lighter of foot, she had padded silently into the stable, but he knew she was there. He could feel her presence as readily as he could feel the mass of