Chapter Sixteen #2
Even at the mention of Dinah, Darius felt his anger returning.
“Ellie is nothing like Dinah.” He rose, his agitation building.
“Dinah was colder than the temperatures outside. I discovered this week that she hid in the nursery but ignored the children.” He started to pace.
“More than that, she called them ‘my little problems,’ and said it in front of them! And she called me a monster!” He fisted his hands as he paced the short distance from the bed, past the settee to the wall and back.
“I should have asked the children what she did, what she said. It’s my fault. ”
“I suppose it’s your fault it’s cold outside too, or that a year ago we had no summer.”
Darius stopped, confused. “What?”
“All I’m saying is you can’t know everything. You did what you thought best based upon the information you had. It’s not your fault Dinah was selfish and spiteful. That lies firmly at her feet. You have always done what you thought best for everyone. Isn’t that why you remarried?”
“Yes. I remarried someone nothing like Dinah. Ellie is kind and caring. She has a happy disposition, enjoys gazing at the stars, and loves my children.”
“You sound like you have a lot of respect for her. That is a strong basis for a good marriage.”
“Respect? Yes, I have much respect for her. I also admire her and worry about her and love—” Too late, he snapped his mouth closed, but a cold wave of fear raced up his back.
“You love her. Darius, this is wonderful. Does she feel the same way toward you?”
He sat on the settee, dread filling him. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
Archer stilled, his glass halfway to his lips. “You hope not? Why?”
“I don’t want her to. She can’t love a monster.”
“If you love her, you should tell her about your problem. Tell her about your uncle and that you don’t want to follow in his footsteps. Man, this is your chance.”
Darius set his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.
“I can’t let her know about my black moods.
She will turn away from me. I cannot lose her.
My children cannot lose her. She’s brought light and love to Hawthorne Park.
” He lifted his head and looked at his gamekeeper. “I cannot tell her.”
Archer set his empty glass down. “If she’s done so much for you, she deserves to know. Do you really think you can keep it from her forever?”
He shook his head. “Just a little while longer, until the children are older.”
“And what about your future children?”
Darius felt his heart race at the thought that even now Ellie could carry a little girl or boy. He wanted that almost as much as he wanted her. “Then I’ll have to wait even longer.”
Archer rose. “If you respect her and love her, you need to tell her.”
Why wouldn’t he leave it alone? Darius sat up. “And have her hate me, maybe even hate my children? How can I risk it?”
Archer moved to the door, donned his coat, then looked at him.
“And if she cares for you and discovers your secret on her own, then how do you think she’ll feel?
Think about it.” The gamekeeper opened the door, looked at Darius once more, then strode out into the cold night, closing the door behind him.
Darius took another sip of brandy. Ellie wouldn’t find out.
He’d be extra careful. Yet even as he tried to reassure himself, his fear grew.
She was very intelligent. Maybe he could take her on a trip where he had “business” to take care of, so she’d see it wasn’t all that interesting.
Of course, if she were with child, she couldn’t go, but then she’d be focused on that.
There was always another ball. If she kept busy with the house, children, and entertaining, maybe she wouldn’t notice his absence that much.
He rose, his brandy still in hand. Even if she didn’t discover his secret, he was still lying to her.
He’d told Dinah because he didn’t like lying to her even though he hadn’t loved her.
And that was the crux of his problem. He did love Ellie, and the thought of her leaving him because he should be in Bedlam, not trying to manage an estate and raise a family like others did, made it hard to breathe.
Before her, he’d counted the months he managed to stay sane, knowing that eventually he’d either be committed or follow his uncle’s path.
Not to the pond, though. A pistol would be quicker, with no second thoughts.
He walked to the bed and set his brandy on the night table before lying down on his back.
With the single lantern on the fireplace casting minimal light, he stared up at the barely visible ceiling.
Maybe that was the best answer. Ellie and the children were better off without him.
Peter would inherit and…he still needed another son.
The thought of having to live long enough for that felt like a never-ending tunnel with no hope of escape, the dark walls closing in, cutting off his air, suffocating him as they crushed him.
A screech outside jarred him from his nightmare, and he took a deep breath, his heartbeat pounding inside his chest. It was just the resident owl, but a welcome one at that.
For the first time since his moods had started, he didn’t want to simply wait until his legacy was secure.
He wanted to live every moment he could with Ellie.
“Ellie.” Even as he whispered her name in the dimly lit room, the darkness inside him seemed to open up a bit.
He closed his eyes and pictured her as he’d last seen her, holding court among her friends. If he could just hold on to her, maybe there was a chance at life.