Chapter 26
“Isaid, get out.” Theodore would have glared at Percival, but the way it tightened his skin made the pounding in his head worse.
He had not eaten in days, though he had tried to put on a show of it for Phoebe. She had enough to deal with without worrying about him as well.
He pantomimed eating, moving the food across his plate. When he stood, he was lightheaded, dizzy. He steadied himself on walls, and more than once he found his niece watching him with terror on her face.
Another thing I am failing at.
In a fit of desperation, Theodore had tried whiskey. It had calmed his stomach, and for a brief, wonderful moment, the hole Harriet had left had felt a little smaller. Giving in to his weakness felt good. It gives me more of a reason to hate myself.
One glass had become two, two had become three and at some point he had stopped with glasses all together, deciding to save time and drink it straight from the bottle.
Percival arched an eyebrow at him, folding his arms across his chest. “Good God, Irondale. Tell me you were not drinking whisky straight from the bottle.”
Theodore gave in and glowered at Percival, ignoring the way the room swayed as he got to his feet. He kept a hand on his desk to steady himself. His mouth tasted like an ashtray.
I do not remember smoking. Several cigar ends were dotted around the room. Theodore hated the things, but apparently, he had felt unable to resist the urge the night before.
Pathetic.
“Why on Earth are the curtains drawn? You are a man, not a dragon in his cave.” Percival looked Theodore up and down. “Though you are doing a fair impression of it.”
He drew back the curtains and Theodore let out a hiss of displeasure and pain. “I will not warn you again, Wright. Get out.”
“No.” Percival replied.
“I am a duke-” Theodore puffed out his chest, but Percival cut him off, his eyes flashing. “As am I.”
Theodore gritted his teeth, wishing his mouth did not taste of acid and bile. He squared up to Percival, expecting the other man to meet his anger with his own. To his surprise, he found he wanted him to.
Theodore’s blood raced through his body, priming every part of him for a fight. He wanted to rage, to hit and be hit. Despite all his attempts at control, he was nothing but an animal, he had been the whole time. I may as well give in.
Percival raised a hand, and Theodore bared his teeth in a half snarl, half triumphant smile. Percival shook his head, and gently squeezed Theodore’s shoulder. Theodore’s snarl faded and his brow furrowed in confusion.
“I am not going to fight you, Irondale.” Percival gestured to the room around them. “Not in this state. It would be entirely ungentlemanly.”
“You mean you are too afraid to fight me.” Theodore goaded.
“You can barely stand straight, let alone throw a decent punch.” Percival plopped himself into an armchair and leaned back. “It would be like fighting a very large, very stupid kitten. I will not debase myself with such behavior, no matter how much you want me to.”
Theodore clenched and unclenched his fists, his jaw working furiously.
“Why are you here, Wright?” Theodore growled as he slumped into an armchair.
“I am your friend.” Percival replied simply. “I wanted to see how you were; though I will admit, I had not expected to find you in quite such a state.”
“If it causes you such offense, you need not stay.” Theodore’s lip curled.
“I am not going anywhere, Irondale. Not until you and I have talked.” Percival steepled his fingers together. “You have been avoiding everyone for the last week. And I can only assume it is because you and your wife appear to have fallen out. Where is she, by the way?”
“She left,” Theodore said, the words carving out a hollow in his chest.
“And I am guessing you do not know when she will be returning?” Percival let out a long whistle of breath between his teeth.
“I do not.” Theodore frowned. “But I do not see that it is any of your business.”
A numbness settled over him as the truth of Percival’s words hit him. Harriet had been gone for a week. In that time, he had received a letter from her, letting him know she had arrived safely in London, but not letting him know when she would return.
If she returns.
Bile rose in his throat and he forced it down, coughing as he did. She would return, she had to return, after all, there was Phoebe to think about. The thought offered him no comfort; the numbness gripped him like a vice.
“I have rarely seen this level of self-pity outside of a lovesick man, and I have no wish to watch you drink yourself to death.” Percival wrinkled his nose as he gestured to Theodore’s disheveled state. “How long are you going to wallow in this?”
“I am not wallowing.” Theodore massaged his throbbing head. “And I am not lovesick.”
“Heartbroken then,” Percival replied, waving his hand with such dismissal that Theodore wanted to hit him. “And do not tell me you are not, it is clear as day. Which begs the question, why in God’s name did you let her leave?”
“She wanted to go.” His voice sounded far away to his own ears. It is what I need.
Her words echoed in his mind. He saw the light in her eyes dim, felt something inside him snap so loudly he was sure she would hear it. I should have asked you to stay.
He had wanted to ask her, but something stopped him. His heart raced as he thought about that day, chest aching as he thought of the hundred different things he should have said.
It was the right thing to do.
He did not realize that he had spoken aloud until Percival said, “It does not look that way from where I am sitting.”
“If she had wanted to stay, she would have.” Frustration broke through the blanket of numbness filling Theodore. “She left.”
“You could have asked her to stay.” Percival pointed out.
“And why would I do that?” Theodore folded his arms across his chest.
Percival shrugged. “Because it is what you want.”
“It does not matter what I want.” Theodore scratched at the stubble lining his face, closing his eyes as he focused on the sharpness of his nails against his skin. “Not when I cannot give her what she wants.”
“And what is that?” Percival’s voice sounded far away.
“She wants children.” Theodore felt his pulse quicken. “She wants a real marriage. She wants me and a life and a future together and I… I cannot do that.”
“Why not? As far as I am aware, you are a perfectly virile sort of man. And if not, well, I am sure the physician could help.” Percival’s voice was teasing, and it goaded Theodore’s eyes open.
“It is not a question of virility, Wright.” Theodore’s voice made a winter frost seem warm.
Percival paid it no heed, flicking an errant bit of dust from the arm of the sofa. “Then why can you not have children?”
“You know why.” Theodore straightened in his armchair, letting his size fill the room.
He thought of Rose. The way he had failed her. Guilt snaked through his chest. He remembered his father, the way the man had kept them apart, had lied to them both and cast his sister out like a used handkerchief.
Percival leaned towards him. “No, Irondale, I do not.”
“I will not be my father. I cannot do that to her.” Theodore let out a growl. “She wants what I cannot offer, and so, I have to let her leave.”
“You mean, she wants what you are too afraid to give her.” Percival said.
“Of course I am afraid.” Theodore exclaimed as he leapt to his feet and began to pace the room.
“You know what my father was like. What he did to my mother, to me, to my sister. Everyone says that he was different before, that things changed after we were born. That my mother’s death was the end of the man he was. ”
“Maybe they did, I could not say for certain. My memory of the man, and the memory of my father was that he was a deeply unpleasant fellow to begin with. When your mother died, he became even more so.” Percival’s eyes were following Theodore as he paced around the room.
“He was a cruel tyrant. He hid his weakness and malice behind propriety.”
“And I have clung to the same things. He taught me that order above all things matters, and since Harriet…” Theodore kicked at a nearby bottle.
“My control is all but spent, Wright. I am just as weak as my father was. I will not be him. I will not father a child, I will not risk it. I will not risk her.”
“Do you really think that is your choice to make, Irondale? It is her life too.” Percival said.
What about what I want? He heard Harriet’s words in his mind and shook his head, trying to force them from it. Theodore said nothing.
“Even if you believe that your father became a tyrant when your mother died, you can hardly think you will do the same. You did not become that man when Rose passed. You are not some monster.” Percival’s shrugged.
“Your father was cruel, and unkind. You are nothing like him. I have seen you with Phoebe. You treat her like your own daughter.”
Theodore let out a bitter laugh. “Until Harriet arrived, I was failing at that too. Or have you forgotten why I asked her to marry me in the first place?”
Percival got to his feet, rolling out his shoulders as he shook his head. “Phoebe is not the only one who has changed since your wife joined you. You do not have to keep letting fear control you, Irondale. You do not have to let this hold you back.”
“Control is what will keep me safe.” Theodore spat.
Percival reached towards him, but Theodore stepped backwards. “It will not bring her back.”
Theodore stiffened, his hands were balled so tightly into fists that his arms were shaking. “She does not want to come back.”
“I am not talking about the Duchess.” Percival shook his head.
“I think you should leave.” Theodore gestured towards the door. “Now, Wright.”
Percival opened his mouth as though to argue, but something in Theodore’s expression must have stopped him. Instead, his friend let out a long sigh. “Very well. If you are determined to be a stubborn fool, then I cannot stop you.”
“It is for the best.” Theodore murmured.