The Cumberland Plateau

by Mary K. Baxley

  “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…

  Chapter Forty-five

  …worry was ever-present in David’s mind where his brother was concerned …

  Late September

  Fitzwilliam went through the motions of living, but inside he was dead. He spent his waking hours in excess of work and drink. On the weekends, he stayed drunk. His mind continually relived his arguments with Elizabeth as he tried to come to terms with what had happened.

  Another weekend arrived, and like the others that preceded it, he was drinking heavily, languishing in self-pity and despair. Stone-faced, Fitzwilliam sat and poured another drink—thoughts and memories coursing through his brain.

  …How did I end up like this? Why did I give so much of myself to her, that she had such power over me? Why? As he emptied the bottle and drank the last drink, his anger rose. …Damn her. He flung the bottle, followed by the glass, into the fireplace and sank into unconsciousness as he slid out of his chair into the floor.

  When Watson found Fitzwilliam the next morning, he immediately sent for David. Together they lifted him up. “Watson, help me get him to bed, and when he wakes, call me. I’ll help you clean him up. I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling, but it isn’t me.” David looked at his brother—incensed that he would let himself go in such a self-degrading manner.

  “Yes, sir, we’ll take care of him. I never thought I would see Mr. Darcy come to this.” Watson shook his head.

  Fitzwilliam slept into the afternoon while Watson kept watch over him, reading the paper and waiting for some sign of life. When Fitzwilliam finally began to stir, Watson sent for David.

  Upon entering his brother’s room, David seethed with renewed anger. The room reeked from the smell of stale whiskey.

  “Watson, open these windows to let some fresh air in,” David said, clearly disgusted. “Fitzwilliam, you need a shower and a shave. You look awful, and if you don’t get into the shower on your own accord, I’m going to personally put you in there. Get up!”

  “Bugger off, David, I can barely move. Leave me alone.”

  “No, you’re getting up! Now come on, you’re getting into the shower or I’m going to put you in there myself. Do you understand me?”

  Fitzwilliam looked at his brother in disbelief.

  “Do I have to undress and wash you myself? Come on. Get out of bed!”

  David flung back the covers. It was clear he meant business.

  As Fitzwilliam rose up, he dipped his head and rubbed his brow. “No, I’ll take care of myself.”

  Moving very slowly, he struggled to push himself from the bed.

  Watching his brother labor to stand clumsily to his feet, David cursed under his breath before grabbing his brother’s arm and helping him to the shower. Returning to the bedroom, David helped Watson clean up the room before taking a seat and waiting for Fitzwilliam to stumble back into his chamber.

  “Feel better?” David asked when his brother emerged.

  “Some, but my head is splitting, and I think I’m going to be sick,” he said, dropping down in the chair next to his brother.

  “Yeah, I don’t doubt that, so I had this sent up for you.”

  Reaching over to the table beside them, he pour
ed his brother a cup of tea and handed it to him.

  “Sip it slowly, and then eat a little. You should feel better soon. Now, we’re going to talk. Fitzwilliam, I know the breakup with Elizabeth has been a painful shock to you, but you have to get a hold of yourself. You have to go on. I’m here for you. Together we will get through this, but you have to take the initiative.”

  “I don’t need sympathy or help, David. I will recover after I’ve come to terms with what has happened.”

  “I’m not here to offer you sympathy, Brother, but help is another thing, because you definitely do need help, and yes, I know you will recover, but I don’t want you to be alone. We’re going out today. It’ll do you good to get out of this house—out of this room. We’ll go to White’s this afternoon and Pemberley tomorrow. We’ll spend time riding. Pack your things. We’re leaving in the morning. I’ve already spoken to Richard and William, and they have agreed to cover for us.”

  “David, I don’t want to go anywhere,” Fitzwilliam said, still holding his head.

  “Oh, I beg to differ. You don’t have a choice in this matter. If you don’t go, I’ll ring Uncle Harvey. Now, do you want him to see you like this?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “Very well then, I’ll have Watson pack two bags. I’ll even let you drive my Lamborghini. It’ll do you a world of good to feel the power of a beautiful machine under your control.”

  They spent the afternoon and evening at White’s, playing cards and catching up with old friends and acquaintances. The next day they left for Derbyshire, with Fitzwilliam driving David’s car for the first time as he put the Murciélago to the test, laughing like he hadn’t laughed in months. They spent two weeks at Pemberley, riding, playing billiards, swimming in the cove, and doing the things they had done as boys. Gradually, Fitzwilliam came back to life. David had always had the ability to bring him out of whatever dark mood had overtaken him, and this time was no exception. By the time they returned to London, David had even gotten his brother to joke and kid around again. However, worry was ever-present in David’s mind where his brother was concerned. He had one more thing to do before leaving on his annual business trip to Charleston. He had to secure his brother’s wellbeing in his absence.

  Chapter Forty-six

  …I was her hero and she was my lady…

  Mid October

  Darcy House

  The five cousins, Fitzwilliam, David, William, Benson, and Richard Winthrop, their mother’s nephew, had been close all of their lives. All five held a tight bond to one another and could be counted on in times of trouble. It was with that thought in mind that David decided the time had come to call upon the counsel of his cousins. Gathering together in the library, David addressed the group.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” David said as he retrieved a decanter of port wine and poured four glasses, handing one to each cousin.

  “It sounded urgent when you called. What’s the matter? Not another problem with Pemberley, I hope.” Richard spoke for the group.

  “No, it’s nothing like that, but I’ll come to the point. I’m going out of town next week, and I’m worried about Fitzwilliam. I want you to keep a close eye on him. When I come back, I’ll be here for a short time, then I’ll have to leave again, and, except for the Christmas break, I’ll be gone from November until March. Although I believe I have helped him through the worst of it, my brother still tends to drink too much, and he doesn’t need to spend time alone, especially in the evenings.”

  “We’ve all heard his wife has left him and that he hasn’t taken it very well at all. What do you suggest we do?” William asked, clearly concerned.

  Sipping his wine, David answered, “Have your father invite him to spend time with your family. Take him to White’s or Bilbray’s—anywhere you can think of to get him out of the house in the evenings. I don’t want him to slip into another drunken stupor. His mind has to be kept off his wife. He’s not ready to be introduced to another woman, but you might take him to a few parties, to dinner, or maybe even some clubs.”

  Benson spoke next. “It surprises me that Fitzwilliam is the one of us to be so afflicted. I wouldn’t have thought the breakup of his marriage would have affected him like this. I understand being upset, but for him to fall apart really astounds me. Somehow I thought he was stronger than that.”

  David looked upon his younger cousin and shook his head. “No, I’ve always known he was vulnerable. We used to have philosophical discussions late into the night about our respective feelings on marriage and life. Unlike mine, his feelings run deep, and therefore, any woman he ever fell in love with would also possess the power to wound him, which is exactly what has happened.”

  David raked his hands through his thick dark curls as he turned to face the others. “We’ll be at Pemberley the week of Christmas through the New Year. I’m asking you to come if you can. We need to be together like we used to when we were boys. The Christmas season is going to be very difficult for him, and I believe it will help him. I don’t want to let him down. I’m counting on your support.”

  “David, I have no firm plans for the holidays. I’ll speak with Rhonda. If she agrees, she and I will come to Pemberley. We can probably come right after Christmas. I’m sure her parents will watch the boys,” Richard offered as he walked over to the table for another glass of wine. “I’ll make it a priority to see Fitzwilliam as much as I’m able whilst you’re out of town. But William and Benson will have to fill in the gaps when I must be away myself.”

  “David, don’t worry. We’ll take care of Fitzwilliam,” Benson said, reaching for the wine decanter to refill both his and Richard’s glasses.

  “There are several parties we are always invited to in November and December,” William said, giving David a reassuring look. “I’ll be free, since I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I’ll make sure he attends. I’ll also make sure that we go out as much as possible. Father would love to have Fitzwilliam ‘round. He and Mother have been very worried about him, as we all have.”

  Richard looked at the others thoughtfully. “I know his wife was not believed to be pregnant, but from what I heard of their telephone interactions, she reminds me very much of Rhonda when she was pregnant with our first child. You don’t think she could have been, do you?”

  “No, Richard, she’s not. I talked with Fitzwilliam about that, and he assures me it was impossible, but if she were, that would definitely complicate things,” David answered.

  Richard shrugged, placing a hand on David’s shoulder for reassurance while he and the Darcy cousins continued to talk a little longer before taking their leave. David felt somewhat better leaving Fitzwilliam in the care of his cousins and thanked them all for their encouragement and support.

  After seeing his cousins off, he turned and left to find his brother. …Fitzwilliam, you’ve got to conquer this. You must! And I’ve got to find Elizabeth. Where the bloody hell is she?

  ~*~

  Several days later, Harvey decided it was time to pay his nephews a visit, so he called to make the arrangements. When he entered Darcy House, Harvey was shown to Fitzwilliam’s study where he found his nephews waiting.

  “Uncle, what brings you here on such urgent sounding business? May I offer you something to drink?” Fitzwilliam asked with a quizzical look.

  “I’ll have a whiskey if you have it. Brandy if you don’t.”

  “Scotch it is, then.” Fitzwilliam poured three measures while they all took a seat. “Now, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

  Harvey smiled. “Fitzwilliam, I’ve come to talk—to see how you are doing and to invite you and Georgiana to dinner next week whilst David is out of town. I also want you to drop by when you can over the Christmas holidays. Make our home your home. Susan and I would really love to see you.”

  “Thank you, Uncle. I’ll speak with Georgiana and get back to you. And I’ll see about Christmas,” Fitzwilliam said with a soft sigh, “but to tell
the truth, I hadn’t thought much about it. I’m not in the mood for celebrating.”

  Harvey looked at his nephew thoughtfully. “Fitzwilliam, it’s not good for you to immerse yourself in work as you do or to spend time alone. Listen to me, Fitzwilliam. I do have some idea of what you are going through. You’re not the only man to have loved and lost. I know something about that, too.”

  There was a long silence between the two brothers and their uncle. David was the first one to speak. “I suppose you are talking about our mother.”

  “So,” Harvey said with a gentle smile, “you’ve read the journals.”

  David nodded.

  “What is he talking about, David?”

  “Simply this,” David glanced between his uncle and his brother, “Uncle Harvey was engaged to Mother before she married Father.”

  “What!”

  Harvey rose from his seat and walked over to the fireplace. “It’s true, Fitzwilliam.” He hesitated for a moment. “I was once in love with your mother… and she with me.” Harvey sipped his drink as Fitzwilliam stared.

  David cleared his throat. “Why don’t you tell us about it? After reading Father’s account, I’d like to hear yours.”

  Harvey smiled and nodded. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. I knew it would come. Well, I told your father I would answer any questions you have.” He sighed as he returned to his seat. “What would you like to know?”

  Fitzwilliam rubbed his chin and stared at his uncle. “You? You were in love with my mother and engaged to her? Well, that explains a lot,” he drawled sarcastically. “Is that why Mother and Father had a strained relationship and you and Father didn’t get along?”