The Cumberland Plateau

by Mary K. Baxley

  She blinked in disbelief.

  “I told you once before that I didn’t grow up in a family like yours. When my mother died, my father withdrew, and any love that I was shown died with her. She was the only good thing my brother and I had when we were growing up. Unfortunately, Georgiana was too young to remember or know her as David and I did, so she doesn’t have those memories.”

  He sighed deeply as he walked the floor. “Do you remember when we talked, I mean really talked for the first time? You wanted to critique A Rose for Emily, and I didn’t. Do you remember that conversation?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, the reason I didn’t want to discuss the story was because it hit too close to home. Emily’s father was a reflection of my own, and though the story is not quite the same, it was too close for comfort.”

  He glanced between his daughter’s crib and his wife holding his son, trying to form his thoughts into words. Where to begin and how much to tell? He released a deep breath.

  “My mother and father’s marriage was, unfortunately, very unhappy. Neither David nor I knew the reason why. Thus, we were both left to speculate, and we consequently blamed our father, because as children, we saw things through the eyes of a child. It would not be until my father died and left his personal journals to my brother that either of us would learn the truth, but I’m not going to go into that here. The important thing to say is that, as a result of what I saw in my parents’ lives, I withdrew into a world of books, the grounds of Pemberley, and later my studies, whilst David found other diversions, namely girls. We both coped as best we could.

  “I chose to ignore what I saw around me. I told myself I would make a better life—be a better man. Subsequently, from about the age of nine or ten, I set myself to that purpose. I would be very careful in whom I chose for a wife, because I intended to cherish her always. She would never know the pain my mother had known. I would have a family—children to love the way I had always wanted to be loved. I vowed that I would not become my father.” Stopping in front of Elizabeth, he looked down at his son and then back at his wife.

  “Because of our family life and my relationship with my father, I didn’t want to be the CEO of Pemberley, PLC. I’d had duty and responsibility drummed into me since birth, and I hated it, or so I thought—that is, until it was my turn to take up the helm.” Fitzwilliam paused, attempting to gauge Elizabeth’s reaction. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty. He sighed and shook his head.

  “However, when I realized that six hundred years of blood, sweat, and tears were about to crumble right before my very eyes and that it would happen on my watch, I could not allow that to occur if it were within my power to stop it. As I thought about what the Darcys have lived for…died for since the time of the Norman kings, all of my father’s teachings came screaming back to me in full force.” He hesitated, watching her closely. “Elizabeth, I am a Darcy. It is a heavy responsibility, but I was born to fulfill that role, as my son is.”

  He stopped and took deep breath. From the scathing look his wife gave him, he felt as if his integrity were on trial, but he’d be damned if he would apologize for being the man he’d been reared to be. He took another deep breath. She would hear him out whether she understood him or not.

  “Elizabeth, I am a man of principle—a man of honor and duty. I once told you there comes a time when a man has to take a stand. If I had done anything less—been anything less—you would not have respected me, because I wouldn’t have been able to respect myself. And if I had not risen to the occasion and done what I had to do, you would not have been able to live with me because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. Since you never understood that, you never understood me.”

  He shook his head. His emotions were in turmoil as he nervously twisted his wedding band, but looking from his son to his daughter, he decided he would try once more, for them, if for nothing else. “Do you remember our wedding vows, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked. “I never forgot them. Before God and a church full of people I pledged to you that I would be your shelter and your light, to be a safe haven from life’s storms. And that’s exactly what I was attempting to do. One love, one life, one lifetime.” He halted briefly. “Those vows meant something to me, and I took them seriously. Elizabeth, I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again. I was only trying to protect you as I promised your parents I would that day in the cemetery at Longbourn Church.”

  He turned and looked her directly in the eye. “What you never understood was, that had the sharks gone after you, I would have jumped in the water to save you. That’s the kind of man I am and how much I loved you. My concentrations and loyalties would have been divided. I would not have been able to save both you and Pemberley, and in the end, it would have destroyed us both. That’s why I needed you to stay where you were and wait for me, but you couldn’t do that, and so our marriage was destroyed anyway.”

  He hesitated to give her time to absorb all that he had said before he continued, but upon further reflection, he decided he’d said enough. He would leave her to think about what he’d already told her. He had a lot to consider himself.

  “I’ll call ‘round tomorrow,” he said. “We both have a lot to think about—our future—their future.”

  Fitzwilliam glanced meaningfully at the children and then walked over to his daughter where he reached into the crib and gently caressed her head as she grunted and wiggled under his touch. The child reached up and curled her tiny fingers around one of his, grasping it with surprising strength. Pain gripped his heart at the feel of her tiny hand encircling his finger. He desperately wanted to pick her up, to hold her, caress her, but a warning look from Elizabeth checked his desire. With one last touch, he gently eased his finger from her little hand and turned and strode towards the door. Now that he’d seen his children and his daughter had held his finger, there was no way he would let them go. He’d been through hell, but he’d walk there again, barefoot over broken glass if he had to…for them…and their mother.

  As he prepared to leave, he turned back. “I’m filing papers today to prevent you from leaving the country. Even if you were to leave, make no mistake, madam, I would track you down. We will face this one way or the other, Elizabeth Darcy…one way or the other. Do I make myself clear?” His eyes bore down on her, absolute sincerity ringing in his voice.

  “You needn’t worry.” Sarcasm dripped. “I’ll be here.”

  As he was about to exit the room, he stopped and turned. “I’m filing the paperwork just the same.”

  “I see you don’t trust me.” She raised an eyebrow.

  A smirk curled his lips, “Frankly, my dear, no, I do not!” He cocked his head. “Elizabeth, a marriage is like a rose garden. It has to be tended for the rose to grow and flourish. Left to its own accord, it’s soon taken over by thistles and weeds. And love, along with the sunshine comes the rain.” He halted for a moment and caught his wife’s gaze. “Mrs. Darcy, if we are to make it, and that’s a very big if, we have a lot to work through. The question is, do we want to make it? You think about that—about what you want, but keep this in mind. There comes a time when a man’s had enough. And love, I’ve had enough heartache to last a lifetime.”

  With that parting shot, he opened the door and walked through it without so much as a backwards glance.

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  …Trust is a difficult thing…

  David’s mind was in turmoil as they walked the long hallway to Cecilia’s study. His temper was in check, but his emotions were not. Everything had become crystal clear—clear as to why she had abruptly stopped calling last July—clear as to who her mystery friend was—clear that she’d planned the whole thing from the dinner engagement in October to the present. She had played him for a fool. He couldn’t believe he’d been so deceived. He had trusted her, and she had betrayed him.

  Entering the room, Cecilia immediately rounded her desk and sank gracefully behind it. David followed, closing the door behind them
with a sharp snap. He drew in a deep breath and leaned against the thick slab with his arms folded across his chest.

  He nodded. “Now I finally know the truth—the truth about why you didn’t ring me last summer.” He paused and tilted his head. “Let us see. Yes, your calls abruptly stopped at just about the time Elizabeth disappeared. And then there was your mystery friend—Elizabeth.”

  Pushing away from the door he strolled over to her desk.

  “How could you do this? You knew—all this time—and you knew. You knew I was looking for Elizabeth, that I wanted to know where she was, and you knew what was going on with my brother. We had discussed Fitzwilliam and his marriage and what he was going through in great detail. You had the information I sought, and yet you kept it from me. You also knew enough about me and my family to understand that my brother would want to know he was a father. Why? Why did you do this?”

  Cecilia’s brow rose in an aloof manner as she met David’s intimidating stare, answering him in what he considered to be her boardroom tone. “First of all, David, I have known Elizabeth and her family far longer than I have known anything of the Darcys. Our families go back for many generations. Our ancestral grandfathers were business partners in the early 1800s, and I spent my summers at Longbourn after my mother’s death. Secondly, when Elizabeth called last year, she was sick and frightened. When I brought her here, I had to admit her to the hospital. She needed to escape from whatever it was that had happened to her, and if I hadn’t been there, there might not have been any children.”

  Cecilia dropped her gaze. “It was her wish to stay hidden, so my hands were tied.” She glanced up and looked David directly in the eye. “My loyalty lies with Elizabeth first and foremost, as yours does with your brother.”

  His jaw tightened. “Then where does that leave us? I thought as my wife, your loyalty would lie with me.”

  “Wife?” She blinked in disbelief. “I wasn’t aware we were married, or even engaged, for that matter.”

  “Oh, come now, Cecilia. You must have known where my intentions might lie. I mean, we had an understanding, and you knew I loved you.”

  “David, you presume too much! We’ve never discussed marriage. In fact, you’ve told me repeatedly that you’re not the marrying kind. If you intended marriage, you should’ve told me. I do believe it is customary in England, as it is in America, to ask first rather than assume!”

  He pivoted sharply. “Yes, I suppose I should’ve asked—but thank God I didn’t! If I cannot be your first loyalty, then I am nothing at all. Deception of every sort is repulsive to me, and you have certainly deceived me, Lawton. We could’ve worked this out if you had only come to me.”

  Glaring, his features grew darker. Pain shot through him at the thought of what she had done. It was time to cut through the chase.

  “Tell me, Cecilia, what was all that pillow talk about?”

  She turned away, biting her lower lip. Tears welled, threatening to spill as she shook her head. Her eyes once again found his, but she remained silent.

  “You used me, didn’t you?” he asked as he paced back and forth, cutting his eyes in her direction. “You used your beauty and feminine charms to draw me in—to obtain information concerning my brother. And for what? To protect Elizabeth from my brother—the man who loved her?” He looked away, and then drew back. “I was trying to find her, and you knew where she was all along, yet you pretended to not even know her.” Stopping in front of Cecilia’s desk, he placed both hands on the fine oak finish as he leaned into her. “How long did you think you could get away with such duplicity?”

  He waited for her response, but she only stared, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. His patience wore thin.

  “Answer me, damn it!”

  Flinching, Cecilia held his furious gaze and drew in a quick, sharp breath, trembling violently as tears burned her eyes. “In the beginning, I will admit that I was trying to get information about your brother. I wanted to know why he’d left his wife, breaking her heart.”

  “Breaking her heart!” He pushed away from her desk and straightened to his full height. “Don’t even go there,” he cried in disgust. “Elizabeth broke his heart! I witnessed him going through the hell she sent him to!”

  “David, please, let me finish,” Cecilia pleaded, her eyes begging him for understanding.

  “Oh, by all means, carry on. Let’s hear it!”

  Cecilia whispered as she shook her head. “I felt terrible about using you—I really did, but it was done for my dearest friend. Then something happened that I did not anticipate. I fell in love with you. I hadn’t planned it. I hadn’t even wanted it, but it happened all the same.” Chewing on her lip, she blinked back her tears. “I was confused by what you told me. I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to go to Elizabeth and tell her the truth about us, and I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid that once your brother found out where she was, he would try to take her children away from her, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Tears streaked her cheeks as her voice shook. “You must believe me when I tell you that I was caught in the middle between the man I loved and the woman who has been a lifelong friend. Truly, to deceive is not honorable, but when the truth holds a bitter reality, deception is pardonable. I never used anything you said against you or your brother, but I could not tell you about Elizabeth.”

  He glared at her from across the room as her explanations fell on deaf ears. All he could see or understand was how she had betrayed him. Memories of how he had held her their last night together, comforting her as she cried, tried to intrude. He squashed them, refusing to feel what those memories would invoke. Sucking in a furious breath, he laid in to her.

  “So you used your body to draw me in—to weaken me and loosen my tongue, and it worked. Oh yes!” he ground out. “It worked! The oldest trick in the book, and I fell for it. I trusted you! You’re good, Lawton—damned good!” He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “True to your reputation, you used me! And true to mine, I fell for a beautiful face. You used my weakness against me. I must congratulate you, love.”

  Tears burned his eyes. His heart broke at the thought of being deceived by the one woman he’d dared to love. Never in his dreams could he have imagined a woman would play him. Him! David Darcy—the shrewd, calculating man who played and never lost, the man who took what he wanted and discarded it when he was finished. Angry at her, but more angry at himself, he turned to face her.

  “I told you she left him! She left him with a signed divorce statement and a letter! It was Elizabeth’s word over mine, and that meant more to you than I did. You could have told me. You should have told me!”

  She shook her head as the tears began to fall.

  He glared at her in revulsion. “How does it feel, Cecilia? How does it feel to be a Mata Hari, no better than a harlot? Or to use your own words, a whore! Payment made for services rendered.”

  Her eyes widened as her temper finally snapped, letting him know the gloves were off. “David, I don’t give a damn about what you think of me! I’ve told you the truth, and if you don’t believe me, then you know where the door is, and don’t let it hit you in the ass when you walk through it!”

  David stood, staring her down. The words she’d spoken from their first intimate encounter echoed inside of him. …But one thing must be made crystal clear, Darcy. Just because I screw you, it does not mean that I love you or that I ever will. Understand that, and we’ll get along just fine.

  He nodded in recognition. She had used him, true to her reputation.

  “You’re the best, aren’t you, Lawton?” David laughed sarcastically. “Yes, you fake it with the best of them, with such elegance, such grace, such refined style—charm honed to a skill, and what a skill you possess! You fucking little hypocrite!”

  Shaking with anger, she erupted. “Has it come to this? Has your love turned to hate, so fickle that you change your feelings as often as you change your socks? You haven’t heard a word I’ve
said, have you?” Furious tears streamed down her face as she leaned forward and bore down on him. “You think I don’t know? Well, I do my homework, too, and I know all about your reputation, David Darcy, so don’t you dare speak to me about my faults because you live in a glass house. In the beginning, you were using me just as much as I was using you, and you damn well know it!

  “Don’t think I was fooled by your charms. I know full well I was nothing more to you than your next lay, a score you finally made, nothing more than one of the sluts you’re accustomed to dating. You men are all alike. It’s a man’s world, and it always has been. You think you can do as you damned well please and throw women away when you’re through with them. I learned that truth only too well under my father’s tutelage!”

  “And have I not learnt anything from my father about the deceit of women? He taught me well! Only I chose not to see what was right there in front of me. I knew you were lying back in October, but I chose to believe you when all my instincts declared otherwise. You’re all just alike. YOU BITCH!”

  “How dare you, you bastard!” She hissed. “I’m not some naïve little country girl still wet behind the ears, clinging to her nanny, and I’m not going to sit here and take your insults, so don’t hand me that bullshit of how I’ve used you. I’ve bought all of it I’m going to buy! I haven’t done anything that you haven’t done. You have nothing on me. We’re two of a kind, two peas in a pod. My loyalty to Elizabeth is every bit as deep as yours is to your brother, so if you can’t see past your pride, you arrogant prick, then you can take a one-way ticket straight to hell! GET OUT!”

  Silence screamed between them. There was plenty he wanted to say…wanted to deny…wanted to explain. But not one word would make a difference. He drew back and arched a brow with a sarcastic smile.