The Cumberland Plateau

by Mary K. Baxley

  …She named our son after me… with one ‘t’…? Why would she do that…unless she still loves me!

  “Emmaline Cecilia… I presume our daughter is named after Cecilia?”

  “Yes, she is. I chose to honor my friend. Without Cecilia, I’m not sure how I would have survived. She did more than offer me a place to stay. She offered me her home and her love when I needed it the most.”

  …So I owe Miss Lawton a debt of gratitude.

  After Elizabeth left the room, he looked down at the child resting on his chest. Fitzwilliam gently patted his son’s back while the baby grunted and wiggled, trying to make himself comfortable. Fitzwilliam snuggled him close, brushing his soft head with his lips as he breathed in his sweet baby scent. A tear escaped his eye and slid down his cheek to rest upon a small head full of dark hair.

  When Elizabeth returned to the room, father and son stood in front of the large picture window overlooking Charleston Harbor. Fitzwilliam rocked from side to side, gently humming a lullaby into the hair of the small sleeping child. He glanced up and smiled. The anger that had been a resident in his heart since last year was slowly beginning to dissipate, replaced by tenderness.

  “Here, let me take Alex and put him down.” She handed him the envelope as she took the child.

  Taking a seat on the sofa, he slipped the letter out of its envelope and carefully unfolded it. His shock grew with each word he read.

  “Elizabeth, this is my signature, but I didn’t write this. The letter I wrote was hand- written. Hilda set us up!” He looked at his wife in stunned disbelief as he glanced across the room at the two sleeping babies.

  “I keep copies of blank letterhead with my signature affixed in my office so my administrative assistant has it readily available when I’m not there. Hilda knew this and must have taken some for her own purposes. When she came back from America and handed me the contract you signed along with your letter, she explained to me, from the long conversation she’d had with you, that you no longer wanted to be my wife. She said that she was protecting me by having you sign that divorce contract, but until it was presented to me with your signature on it, I knew nothing about it. I must tell you Hilda and I quarreled bitterly, and I threw her out of my office that day.” Releasing a long breath, he attempted to regain his composure. “I didn’t send her to you with the intent of ending our marriage. It’s all a deception.” Glancing from the letter to Elizabeth, he said, “I don’t know what to say, except I didn’t write this. You have to believe me.”

  Elizabeth dropped down on the sofa beside him, her head lowered, shoulders bent under the weight of remorse and sadness. “I believe you, but back then, I was afraid. I so desperately needed to know that you still cared. The letter your aunt gave me, combined with the talk we had, tore me apart. I wanted you to come for me because it would’ve meant that I was still important to you. But when you didn’t come and your aunt produced the divorce contract, I was devastated. I felt completely alone.” Her voice trailed to a whisper as she shook her head. “I was so sick and frightened when I called Celia. I had only recently discovered I was pregnant, which was also quite a shock. Dr. Griffin neglected to tell me that antibiotics might cause the pill to fail.”

  Looking at her with tenderness, he spoke softly. “I did wonder how you became pregnant. You knew that I wanted a child, so I’m not sorry in the least for the doctor’s oversight. I’m only sorry you had to go through this time alone. I should’ve been with you. Now tell me what my aunt told you. I want to know everything. Omit nothing.”

  She told him all his aunt had said that day as the tears began to flow freely from her eyes. “I thought you no longer cared for me—that you didn’t want or need me any longer—that I would be condemned to the life your mother had led. Then, when you showed up yesterday, I thought you’d come for the children. I feared you would take them from me because you could.” She looked at him and held his gaze. “Fitzwilliam, tell me that you want me, and not because of Alex and Emily, either. Tell me that you love me for me!”

  “Oh, Elizabeth! I’m sorry—so very sorry you’ve had to go through this. I’ve wanted you from the first day I laid eyes upon you, and I want you now—and not because of Alex and Emily, either. They are a consequence of our love, not the reason for it. I would never have left you. Not then, not now, nor do I want to take anything from you. Yes, I want my children, but I want their mother, too.”

  He sat the letter aside and rose to his feet with his hands linked behind his back as he began to walk the floor. “I’m afraid I was so focused on Pemberley and the crisis at hand that I couldn’t see what was happening to us.” He turned and hesitated. “Liz, I am not my father, and I won’t let what happened to my mother happen to you. We once loved each other very much, and… I still love you. Can we not work things out?”

  Fighting back the tears, she reassured him. “Fitzwilliam, I have never stopped loving you. Yes, we can work things out. We have two very important reasons to try.”

  That was all he needed to hear. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest, his cheek leaning against hers, tears flowing from his eyes, too. He whispered her name as his hand slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, kissing her brow, her face, and then finally his lips found hers.

  Elizabeth reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her as she returned his kisses. Breaking apart, she continued to softly cry. He took out one of the embroidered handkerchiefs she’d given him a long time ago and handed it to her. She couldn’t stop sobbing. Holding her, he vowed that nothing or no one would ever separate them again.

  “Shhh, Elizabeth. Shush. It’s all right; it’s all right, Liz. Don’t cry. I’m here with you now, and I’m not leaving. We’ve much to talk about—shhh.”

  Anger darkened his features as he held her. …When we return to England, there’ll be hell to pay. She was sick and alone. I should have been with her when my children were born.

  Pulling back, he searched her glistening eyes. “Elizabeth, I know why women cut their hair. Tell me you didn’t cut it because of me?” He paused, gazing at her with remorse. “Elizabeth, tell me I didn’t do this to you?”

  She began to cry anew, shaking her head.

  Moaning in anguish, he pulled her against his chest. “Liz, Liz, it’s all right…it’s all right…we’ll get through this.”

  Finally, as his mind settled into a rational mode, he picked up the letter from the tea table and asked, “May I keep this? I want to show it to David, and I want to make sure Hilda sees it again. She has some explaining to do.”

  “Yes, you may keep it if you think you need it.” She looked up at him quizzically. “Fitzwilliam, are we still married?”

  He softly laughed. “Yes, Elizabeth, we’re still married. And you still wear your rings. We both still wear our rings. Surely that means something.” He smiled as he gazed into her eyes. “A promise made over two hundred years ago sealed our fate. We were meant to meet, fall in love, and marry. It was written in the stars, and the forces of hell could not prevail against it.”

  She smiled, reaching up and pulling him into another slow, lingering kiss only to be interrupted by a high, demanding wail.

  “I think we’re being called. I’ll get her. It’ll be a pleasure,” Fitzwilliam said.

  Hearing the small, delicate cry of his daughter warmed his heart. Releasing Elizabeth, he went to Emily and lifted her from her bed, taking her to her mother. As Emily began to nurse, he gazed tenderly at the sight of his daughter gently tugging at his wife’s breast.

  “Fitzwilliam, I think it’s best if you stay with David and I stay here. I need time to think and absorb all that has happened. And then there’s Cecilia. She needs me. I’ve never seen her this hurt,” Elizabeth said, tears welling in her eyes anew. “I can’t leave her.”

  “I understand. It’ll be all right. I’m going to talk to David, but I must warn you, he can be very stubborn, and he’s been deeply hurt too. He
needs time and space, but I’m sure his heart will soften in time.”

  “He and Cecilia are just alike then. There’s no one more pigheaded than she is. I’ll do what I can here, but I’m afraid David will have to make the first move. As I see it, David will have to forgive her and ask for her forgiveness. He said some very cruel things.”

  “I can only imagine what he said,” Fitzwilliam replied, shaking his head.

  Elizabeth bit her lower lip, hesitating. “There’s one more thing we have to discuss. Fitzwilliam, it’s only been four weeks since Alex and Emily were born. I won’t be released from my doctor for another two…and…I’m not ready…not yet.”

  He smiled, knowing what she meant. Although he would like nothing more than to have her right here and now, he understood. Resigning to her wishes, he said, “It’s all right, Elizabeth. We’ve waited for close to a year. We can wait a little longer.”

  She took his hand in hers and squeezed it, whispering, “Thank you.”

  They talked a little longer, trying to crowd a year into those few short hours. Before long, he reluctantly took his leave with promises to return the following day.

  Chapter Sixty

  …When the doves have completed their purpose…they drop a flower…

  That night at the hotel, Fitzwilliam took the letter Elizabeth had given him from his coat pocket and handed it to David, leaving him to read while he fixed them both a glass of brandy.

  “What is it?” David asked, turning it over in his hand.

  “Just read it and tell me what you think.”

  David took a seat on the sofa, intently studying the letter, shaking his head as he read. When he finished, he set it on the side cabinet.

  “Fitzwilliam, where did you get this? It doesn’t sound like you at all.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t me. I didn’t write it, but it was given to Elizabeth as if I had.”

  “Hilda! She wrote that letter and—”

  “Yes, she wrote it and gave it to Elizabeth, passing it off as being from me,” Fitzwilliam said as he approached the sofa and handed David a brandy before taking a seat. “You’re not going to believe all the twisted lies she told Elizabeth about me. The thing about it is that Hilda knew more of the truth about our parents than we did at the time. She portrayed me as if I were my father—the way we believed him to be. The audacity of that woman that she could insinuate I would be my father!”

  Fitzwilliam laughed contemptuously as he sat and related to David everything that Elizabeth had told him and how greatly it had upset her. He explained that after Hilda had finished with all of her contorted truths, Elizabeth held an extremely negative opinion of not only him, but the entire Darcy family.

  “Incredible, absolutely incredible. We should have followed our intuition about her. Yes, we needed Hilda, but we should never have trusted her!” David said.

  “Elizabeth and I have reconciled, and we’re going to put all of this behind us. This time we’re going to make it work, and I’ll never take her for granted again,” he emphatically stated. “David, for the first time since I left her in Tennessee, I am alive again, and I will do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

  “What are you going to do about Hilda?”

  “I can’t let that go,” he said with a firm resolve. “I’m going to deal with her when we get home. I can’t forgive her. Her deceptions against my family are too raw!” He paused to sip his brandy. “What I did was done out of ignorance, but her actions were premeditated. There’ll be hell to pay, but as to the details,” he smirked, “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Whatever you decide, I’ll back you up, and I’m sure Georgiana will too, once she hears the truth!”

  “Now David, changing the subject to your concerns, tell me what you are going to do concerning Cecilia now that you know the truth about me and Elizabeth?” Fitzwilliam asked, setting his glass aside.

  David leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. “It’s not the same. She set out to deceive me, and she knew what she was doing. Cecilia used me!” he exclaimed, his anger rising once more. “I trusted her. I can understand that she thought she was helping Elizabeth, but that doesn’t change the fact that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I cannot forgive her for deliberately taking advantage of me in order to obtain information about you.”

  He laughed derisively. “Fitzwilliam, I’m almost embarrassed to confess how much she was able to extract from me about you during our times of intimacy. That’s what gets to me. She used our lovemaking to her advantage, and I thought we had the real thing.”

  Fitzwilliam sighed as he listened. “It may not have begun as real, but I think it was by the time it ended. Think about what you’re doing. If you love her, don’t let her go. I’ve changed my mind about her, and I now think she is right for you,” Fitzwilliam replied. “Do you really think you can be happy without her? Go after her, David.”

  “I can’t. It’s water under the bridge. Too much has happened.” He shook his head. “Besides, I’m not sure she would even have me after the spiteful things we said to each other. The words are out there, and they can’t be recalled. Words have consequences.”

  Fitzwilliam sighed as he picked up his drink. He knew better than anyone what his brother was going through, and he also knew his brother was far more stubborn and prideful than he was. Finishing their drinks, both retired for the night.

  ~*~

  While Fitzwilliam visited Elizabeth and his children, David walked the streets of Charleston, thinking about all that had happened. Remorse and regret were quickly giving way to bitterness. Taking the path Cecilia had taken him months ago, he relived their every moment, allowing for both joy and pain to wash over him—joy from the brief months of happiness her love had given him and pain from the loss that now replaced it.

  He’d planned a future for them, a future of building a family and increasing her business, not only for her, but for their children. He’d even made plans to help her with her research projects by taking on as much of her business responsibilities as she felt comfortable in allowing so she would have more time to work on her projects and be a mother. He’d even gone so far as to talk with his solicitor, making preliminary arrangements to have her name placed on all that he owned once they were married. And he had planned to have half of his fortune made available to invest in Lawton & Co., thereby expanding her corporation. As he walked down King Street, he sighed heavily. It hurt to see his plans go up in flames. Everything he valued in life paled into insignificance to what he’d lost.

  ~*~

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth met several more times to discuss their future. Finally, they agreed upon her moving to England with him. They also decided she would take a leave from teaching in order to spend time with their children. But, when she was ready, she would return to the classroom, though he knew he would never be able to.

  With each passing day, Fitzwilliam became reacquainted with his wife and more acquainted with his children. Emily had captured his heart when she’d curled her tiny fingers around his larger one. He marveled at her perfection and innocence as he held her and softly sang lullabies. She would lie upon his chest, positioning herself like a little frog. It looked terribly uncomfortable to him, but Emily slept contentedly while her father happily watched over her, listening to her rhythmic breathing as he observed the slight expressions and jumps she made while she slept. Sometimes she smiled in her sleep, and he would whisper, “Sweet dreams, my little one, sweet dreams,” as he tenderly cradled her in his arms.

  His son, on the other hand, proved to be the loud one. He demanded the most attention and was the most aggressive eater. Mother and son amazed him as Elizabeth tenderly held Alex while he eagerly suckled at her breast. Like father, like son, Fitzwilliam smiled. He had never been more content than he was at that moment. The only thing missing was his childhood home, Pemberley, but before he took his family home, there was one thing that had to be done. They had to go back
to the Cumberland Plateau.

  He turned to his wife. “Elizabeth, we must contact your family and see them before returning to England. They are worried sick about you. I have kept in contact with Charles and Robert, so I know how worried they’ve been.”

  Rising from her seat and placing Alex in his crib, she turned and replied, “Yes, we should. I feel badly about that. Jane will be very upset, and I can only imagine what my aunts and uncles will think of me.”

  “They will be relieved that you are alive and well. I’m going to ring Charles tonight. We’ll leave for Tennessee tomorrow, and whilst we’re there, I intend to take care of one small item of business that’s long overdue. The promise is met. Charles and I are having a marker made for John Bennet’s grave. I’m having Georgiana order one for Edward Bennet’s burial place, too.”

  “You didn’t forget.”

  “No, I didn’t forget. He’s my ancestor, too.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. I greatly appreciate it,” she said with a gentle smile as she saw him to the door.

  ~*~

  When they pulled into the driveway of the Bennett townhouse, Jane, followed by Charles, Tana, and Robert, holding a squirming toddler, came out to greet them. Jane hugged Lizzy as soon as she exited the car, while Charles pumped Fitzwilliam’s hand. Helping Elizabeth remove the twins from the car, Fitzwilliam proudly introduced Alex and Emily to their aunts and uncles, and Robert introduced his baby girl.

  “This is our newest addition, Linda Jane Bennett.” He grinned. “We agreed to adopt her once the trial was over. Cute little thing, isn’t she?”

  “Indeed, she is.” Elizabeth smiled as she tickled her niece’s toes.

  Turning to Robert, she asked, “May I ask about Liddy—what is she going to do when she gets out of prison?”