“Touché, Miss Lawton.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh. “May we both be happy with the choices we’ve made!”
“Yes,” she bit back, “your temper is resentful, and your good opinion, when lost, is lost forever,” she scornfully quoted him.
With tears stinging his eyes, he said, “I made my first mistake when I thought you cared—no, I take that back. I made my first mistake when I had dinner with you over a year ago. Goodbye, Cecilia.” He turned and walked towards the door.
She rose from her desk. Confusion and desperation erupted amid her fury.
“David, there’s one more thing you need to know. If it comes down to a fight between your brother and my friend, I will be your enemy. If he takes her to court, I will hire the best attorneys this country has to offer, and I will win!”
David slowly turned back. “I’ll see you in hell first!”
With that, he opened the door and walked out, slamming it shut behind him. The sound of smashing glass against the door punctuated his departure. Their relationship ended as it had begun—with a final flash of her temper and the smashing of what was most likely the antique vase sitting on her desk.
~*~
As Fitzwilliam walked down the long hallway towards the front door, his attention was alerted to the sound of breaking glass. He stopped and turned to see David fast approaching.
“Fitzwilliam, let’s go. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. I’ve had quite enough.”
Without saying a word, the two brothers exited the house. When they stepped out into brilliant sunshine, Fitzwilliam stopped short. A white dove flew by, soiling his jacket as it passed. He paused briefly and watched as it headed for the old magnolia at the corner of East and South Battery Streets. Fitzwilliam glanced back at his brother as he removed a handkerchief from his pocket. The day did not match his mood, and by the look on his brother’s face, neither did it reflect David’s.
~*~
Finally calming down, Cecilia sat in her office thinking about what had just happened. Tears of anger streamed down her face. She had known this day would come, and whatever the outcome, she would live with it, knowing she had protected her friend. If she had it to do all over again, she would do it all the same. A harsh sob escaped her throat, betraying her anguish.
…So he intended to propose. Well, if he loves me like he said…? And if he doesn’t? I’m better off without him! One man like Daddy was enough! I’ve shed all the tears I’m going to…Cameron… Cameron was right.
Shaking, she rose to her feet and left her study to go in search of Elizabeth. When she entered the sunroom, she saw Elizabeth sitting alone, both children sleeping peacefully in their cribs.
“Lizzy, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m all right, just a little shell-shocked.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Shall I call for tea?”
“Yes, please do. I need to talk. I have been avoiding thinking of the future. And now I have to face it.”
Cecilia motioned for the servant standing outside the glass wall, making her request for tea and whatever scones there were left in the kitchen from breakfast. They sat for hours talking about what had happened. Elizabeth told Cecilia all Fitzwilliam had said, and Cecilia, in turn, related everything about her and David from the beginning nearly three years ago to what had just happened in her study.
“Celia, I’m sorry.” Elizabeth moved next to her, hugging her friend close as Cecilia dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
“It’s not what you think, Lizzy. David loved me. I know he did, but he’ll never forgive me. I understand him well enough to know that.”
Drying her eyes, she squared her shoulders. “Lizzy, what are you going to do about Fitzwilliam and the babies?”
“I don’t know. For the longest time I have missed him—wanted him. Now I just don’t know. I can’t go through this again, and I don’t trust his family. We will talk again tomorrow. We do have to decide what we are going to do. I suppose I have to at least give him visitation rights, and he’ll probably press for joint custody. This is not how I wanted things to be!” She sighed heavily and shook her head.
“Celia, I’m beginning to think Fitzwilliam’s family conspired from the beginning to separate us. I knew his father didn’t approve of our marriage. Apparently, neither did his aunt, and who knows who else. His aunt deceived us both. I’m certain of it. Even though neither of us trusts the other, I know Fitzwilliam told me the truth today, which doesn’t match with what his aunt told me or his letter. Something doesn’t add up.”
“No, Lizzy, it doesn’t, but building trust takes time, which it appears the two of you didn’t have enough of.”
“Yes, I know we shouldn’t have rushed into marriage. Yet, it’s not entirely his fault. We really did love one another. I wanted him as much as he wanted me.” She turned to her friend. “What about you, Celia? What will you do?”
Cecilia released a long breath. “Nothing. What can I do?” she shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I should never have used him. It was wrong. Still, he was just as much at fault as I was. He was more than willing to use me. We used each other in the beginning. I don’t know what I want anymore.”
Elizabeth took Cecilia’s hand in hers, patting it softly. “Promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll not take Cameron Taylor up on his offer. Whatever you do, don’t do that.”
“I’ll make no such promise. It’s time I gave Cameron a second look—when I’m recovered enough, that is.”
Her mind in turmoil, she compared the two men in her life. One she loved. The other she’d probably marry.
~*~
As the Darcy brothers pulled from the curb onto South Battery Street, David finally spoke. “Fitzwilliam, let’s have an early dinner and retire for the night. I’m in no mood for anything more.”
“Where do you suggest? This is my first time in Charleston.”
“There’s a little café on Queen Street I’ve always liked. I’ll take you there. Tell me, how did your talk with Elizabeth go—better than mine, I hope?”
“Probably not. Elizabeth tells me she won’t attempt to leave the country, but I intend to make sure she keeps her word. William will be in the New York office for the next several months. I’ll ring him up and ask him to contact our corporate attorney to file whatever paperwork is necessary to block Elizabeth from leaving should she change her mind.”
He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t even get a chance to properly meet my son and daughter. I was so upset by our confrontation that I left with nothing more than acknowledging their presence, though I did caress my daughter.” He smiled. “David, she grabbed my finger in a vice grip. She’s a Darcy—strong and confident.”
David grinned. “You don’t even know her name, do you? But she already has you wrapped around her little finger. Girls are like that. Cute and cuddly when they’re babies, and then…oh, never mind. Tell me, what did Elizabeth say?”
Fitzwilliam laughed. His brother’s reasoning on women was the only humor he could find in all that had happened. “No, I don’t know either of their names. As to Elizabeth, I’ll tell you everything tonight. Let’s just say she’s as angry with me as I am with her. She has a very negative view of me and the Darcy family.”
“Are you going to reconcile or make this separation permanent?”
“I don’t really know. I have a lot to think about before making any concrete decisions. Apparently, according to Elizabeth’s way of thinking, I’ve really botched things up. It’s up to her as to what we will do,” he said. “All I was trying to do was the right thing. I wanted to protect her—to shield her from the storm. Now, I’m not even sure what the right thing was.” He released an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “I thought from the beginning of our marriage that I had reassured her of my affections and intentions, but apparently I didn’t do it well enough. She needed more than my word. About the only thing I do know is that I don’t understand women at all.”
~*~
Before heading up to their rooms for the evening, David ordered a bottle of wine from the hotel bar. Settling in the sitting room, he poured two glasses while he and Fitzwilliam talked, discussing the events of the day.
“Fitzwilliam, are you telling me that she honestly believes you had abandoned her? That’s ludicrous.”
“That’s what she thinks. She doesn’t believe me.” He shook his head.
David released a sigh as his voice and expression darkened. “Then she’s a fool! There is no better man than you. You always tell the absolute truth, even if it’s to your own detriment.”
“Don’t say that, David. I have faults enough. I was so focused on what we were going through that I took her for granted. I had put too much faith into a relationship that was still new and budding. I should have taken the time and called her regularly to reassure her, but instead, I let her watch the whole thing unfold in front of her on television—including that terrible attempt at an interview by that poor excuse of a reporter from CNN. I even accused her of nagging me when all she wanted was my reassurance. I can hardly think of it without remorse. I was doing the best I could at the time, but it never occurred to me that she was so insecure about us.”
He lifted his glass and took a slow sip of wine. “Had I known she was pregnant, I would have taken the extra time and put forth the effort, regardless of how tired I was. I would have also been more determined than ever to keep her here in America for her own good and protection, but I would have been on the phone with Robert and Tana, making sure she was cared for. But that’s just it. I didn’t know.”
“Fitzwilliam, I agree, you should have called her, but what of her? Why did she write that letter and sign those papers? Unless…?”
Nursing his wine, Fitzwilliam cut his eyes across at his brother. “Yes, I see you’re catching on. What did Hilda say to her, and what was the real reason she had a divorce contract drawn up unless she intended to see to it that Elizabeth and I separated for good? I wonder why? I’ll try and get to the bottom of this tomorrow.”
“Well, we both know how Hilda feels about distinction in rank, and Elizabeth would not be someone she would consider her equal—let alone ours.”
“I’m well aware of what Hilda thinks; she drove poor Lewis mad. That’s probably why he shot himself.”
“Yes, poor Uncle Lewis.” David sighed. “I always liked him, but between his daughter and his wife, I can understand why he did it.” David wrinkled his brow. “But what about you? Should Elizabeth decide she doesn’t want to reconcile, are you going to be upset like before? I hope there won’t be a repeat of last year.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “No. I’ve thought about that, too. If she does wish to make our separation permanent, I’ll have to accept it, but I will have joint custody. I won’t give on that. I’ve always wanted children, and I want them to know that.”
“Are you going to take her to court then?”
“Only if she forces me to. I won’t hurt her any more than she has already been hurt, if I can at all help it.”
“So you think she won’t reconcile?”
“I don’t know what to think. Whatever she decides, I’ll have to live with it. But for right now, I’m at peace, whatever the outcome. If I can’t convince her of the truth, then I’m determined to not give a damn. I’ve had enough sorrow over that woman. I cannot go on living like I have.”
He sighed heavily, rubbing his brow. “Enough talk of me and my problems. What happened with Cecilia?”
“What is there to tell? We broke up.”
“Well, I was afraid of that. Why don’t you tell me the entire story from the beginning?”
David told him everything, leaving out nothing, including their passionate nights and the week they spent in November.
“I see now, but David, if I may offer some advice, for what it’s worth, coming from a man who’s botched his own love life so badly—don’t judge her too harshly. Give it time. We still don’t know all the extenuating circumstances.”
“No, Fitzwilliam, she used me for her own purposes. I don’t forgive that easily. I doubt she does either.” He sighed and looked away. “Trust is a difficult thing, and it’s something I rarely confer. I did it once. I won’t again.”
“David, don’t say that—not yet.”
“Brother, you better than anyone should know that when you let someone into the inner chambers of your soul, you give them the power to inflict a death blow. I learnt that from you and Father, and now I’ve experienced it for myself. She drove a stake through the heart of me. I’m done with her.”
“But David, you don’t know all of the facts, and neither do I. Don’t be hasty. Now, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a very busy day.”
~*~
Although exhausted from the events of the day, Fitzwilliam was unable to sleep. All he could think about was a little boy with a mop of dark hair and a little girl who held his heart as strongly as she’d held his finger. He also thought of his wife. That he still loved her, he couldn’t deny, but if she proved to be difficult, he’d meet her stubbornness with a strong resolve of his own.
Chapter Fifty-nine
…We were meant to meet, fall in love, and marry…
The next day, Fitzwilliam called at No. 2 S. Battery Street. Walking into the sunroom, he found Elizabeth nursing their son. As he looked upon the scene, his chest tightened with tender emotion, but her closed expression displayed no such tenderness.
“Good morning, Elizabeth. You slept well, I hope?” he asked as he walked over to where his daughter slept.
“No, I did not sleep well. I have two children to care for.”
“Don’t you have a nanny to help you?” he frowned.
“I care for them myself. They are my children, after all,” she stated emphatically. “How did you sleep?”
He looked at her in bewilderment, catching the barb she’d so elegantly flung at him.
“What do you think?” he asked in a cool tone.
She said nothing as she looked at him.
He strolled over to where she was and stood in front of her. “I didn’t sleep well at all,” he said, contempt creeping back into his voice. “I was awake most of the night thinking about us—and them.” He nodded between the two sleeping children. “What will we do? If it were just you and me, it would be less complicated.”
“So now the family you wanted so badly is a complication. Interesting.”
“Stop it, Elizabeth! You know exactly what I meant!”
“No, Fitzwilliam, I’m afraid I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Elizabeth, please, I didn’t come here to fight with you. Of course I want my children. I don’t want to divide them up like property. You should know me well enough to know that! The question is, what do you want?”
“Tell me what you want, Fitzwilliam. I want to hear you say it,” she spat out.
He looked at her with a piercing gaze. “You already know what I want. I’ve told you repeatedly. And I thought I had made it perfectly clear yesterday. I want what I’ve always wanted. For us to be together as a family. I want you and our children to come home with me to England.” He sighed. …Why does she have to complicate things?
Elizabeth dared to meet his gaze. “Fitzwilliam, I’m still numb from all that has come between us.” She shook her head, her eyes filled with regret, but the curve of her mouth was still set in a mutinous line. �
��I can’t get past those things your aunt told me and that letter—especially the letter. I’m not sure that I can be a Darcy, nor am I sure I want to fit in with them.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head wearily. “Elizabeth, I don’t know what my aunt has told you, but be assured that before this day is over, we are going to get to the bottom of it. As to the Darcys,” he heaved a heavy sigh, “there are some of them that I don’t even like, but for the most part, they are like anyone else in manners and disposition. You already know my brother and sister. My Uncle Harvey, Aunt Susan, and many of my cousins are wonderful people who would love you very much.”
He stopped in front of her and released a long-held breath laced with building frustration. “May I see the letter my aunt gave you? I know what I wrote, and from what you have told me, the letter you received is not the letter I sent.”
She eyed him with suspicion. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and rose from her seat.
“Well then, if you’ll help me, I’ll retrieve it. Meet your son. He’s asleep, but he needs to be burped.” She placed the receiving blanket over Fitzwilliam’s shoulder and handed him the bundle.
He took the child, completely overwhelmed, never having held an infant before.
“What do I do?”
“Pat him on his back gently until he burps, and then just hold him until I return. Your daughter is over there in her crib.”
“What are their names?”
“He is Fitzwilliam Alexander Bennet Darcy with one ‘t’, and she is Emmaline Cecilia Bennet Darcy, but I call them Alex and Emily.” She gave him a slight unsure smile.
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