Chapter Forty-four

 

 

…Ah…but the woman only has the power I choose to give her…

 

Several days later, the full ramifications of what had occurred finally hit Fitzwilliam. The weekend had arrived, and he had locked himself in his bedroom, refusing to eat or see anyone. He drank heavily. When he would not respond to his valet’s pleading, Watson sent for the only one person who could get through to Mr. Darcy—his brother.

David had to force his way into Fitzwilliam’s room. “All right, Brother, out with it. It’s not like you to feel sorry for yourself.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, lying prostrate on his bed, clearly in need of a shave, a shower and something to eat to offset the whiskey he’d been drinking.

David paced the floor in front of his brother’s bed, his hands clasped behind his back. “You have to talk about it. Your behavior is causing Georgiana to worry herself sick. I’m worried, too. Don’t shut us out. We’re a family that looks out for one another.”

Fitzwilliam released a sigh and looked his brother directly in the eye, speaking philosophically. “David, what good does it do for a man to amass untold wealth and yet lose that which is most precious to him? I’ve accumulated everything I wanted, but I lost the one thing that meant the most to me—my wife. How on earth am I to live without her?”

The words choked in his throat. His eyes were red and swollen. “I was only trying to protect her, but I couldn’t make her see that. Elizabeth wanted to join me here in London, but I knew what the tabloids were capable of doing. It would have been horrible for her, but she didn’t see it that way. She didn’t understand.

“The publicity that would have resulted might have cost us Pemberley, and I suppose I was thinking of that as well. Still, I should have done more. I failed her, David.” He ran his hands though his hair, choking back tears.

“I suppose that, if I had called her every night no matter how tired I was or whatever matter of pressing business I was trying to accomplish and flattered her with pretty words, Elizabeth might not have left me. But no, I expected her to understand simply because I asked her to. I see now it wasn’t enough. The rose and Mother’s words keep reverberating in my mind. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. The rose had a meaning…a warning. ‘Where a rose is tended, a thistle cannot grow.’ And what did Longfellow’s nursery rhyme say? ‘Take care of your garden and keep out the weeds.’”

Twisting his wedding band, he looked up towards the ceiling. “I guess I let my garden grow up in thistles and weeds didn’t I?”

Leaning against the wall, David only shook his head while he watched and listened.

“We should have weathered the storm together as husband and wife. Elizabeth was probably right about that. The victory of retaining Pemberley feels hollow now.” He cut his eyes across to his brother. “The price I’ve paid is high, David—too high. If I had known the cost would be so high, I’m not so sure I would have paid it. My mistake was my determination, the drive to win at any cost. And look what it has cost me…my wife.”

Finally, David settled on the bed next to his brother and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. You were doing the best you could, given the circumstances. Some of the responsibility lies with her. Fitzwilliam, you did what you had to do.”

David glanced at his brother. “Father was right about one thing. We are Darcys, and Darcy men do what they have to, and our women have to understand that. I think it was unreasonable of Elizabeth not to have had more faith in your judgment. After all, you are a man of your word. Surely she knows that?”

Shaking his head, Fitzwilliam wrinkled his brow. “I don’t know what she knows. You would think after living together for four months, we would have known each other a little better. I’m beginning to think we rushed into marriage before we should have, and that is my fault.”

“Fitzwilliam, I have no experience in affairs of the heart, so I am of no use to you there, but I do know one thing. You cannot wallow in self-pity. You have to go on.”

“No, I can’t.” Fitzwilliam’s voice resonated with a sad, bitter hollowness. “And in time, I will get better. I’m sure of that.” Pausing, he caught his brother’s gaze. “David, it hurts. I feel like she has ripped my heart out while it was still beating.” Sitting up slightly, he cringed from the physical pain of a hangover. “I don’t know why they call it heartbreak. It feels like every part of my body is broken.”

“Come downstairs and eat, or maybe I can have something sent up, and we can eat here together. I’ll stay with you.”

“Have them send something up. I don’t feel like going downstairs.” Easing himself back down, Fitzwilliam smirked, “Father had his revenge from the grave, didn’t he?”

“No,” David softly spoke, “it’s not like that at all. Father loved you. He loved all of us. I’ve read his journals, and I understand him much better now. It’s not at all what we thought. Someday we’ll discuss it.” David sighed and looked at his brother. “I know one thing from Father’s life, at least. If you let them, women have the power to destroy you. We must both be careful.”

Fitzwilliam glanced up at his brother and tilted his head as if straining to comprehend his brother’s words. He opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head and fell silent.

With a quizzical brow, David asked, “I have to ask you. You don’t think Elizabeth could be pregnant, do you? I mean, women act strangely when they are expecting. Remember how Lord Rothwell’s wife behaved last year? It nearly broke up their marriage with her calling constantly, always wanting to know where he was, whom he was with, and what he was doing. She couldn’t let him out of her sight. It was as if she wanted him there with her no matter what. She even called him when he was in the House of Lords during an important debate. Much like Elizabeth has done.”

Fitzwilliam shook his head. “No, David, she wasn’t. I know that for certain. We used birth control. If she were pregnant, she would have told me. Of that much I can be certain. Elizabeth wouldn’t do that to me. She knows how much I wanted a child.” Pausing for a moment to think, he muttered beneath his breath, “No, Elizabeth would never do that.”

“Well, it was just a thought.”

Getting up to open the curtains, David’s thoughts turned to Cecilia, whom he hadn’t heard from in several days. …Cecilia Lawton. I know I care deeply for her, but I can’t let her have that power over me… the power that women are apparently able to wield over Darcy men. We tend to love deeply. Strength of character, men of principle, and powerful in the business world, yet weak when it comes to a woman’s love. Ah…but the woman only has the power I choose to give her. I must remember that…