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 arrivedsafely 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. Everyonesays 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.
