“Anne…?” George Darcy gasped and spoke the words with difficulty.
“Mom’s ok…Don’t talk, Dad. Try to rest.” William Darcy looked at his father with blank expression. With so many tubes fixed onto his body, William was not convinced that his father would live.
“We quarrelled…” George Darcy continued. “…affairs…I… so sorry…leave…her…10….million pounds.”
“What? Who?” William did not understand his father’s words.
“Leave…the…money…to…Elizabeth…Ben……nach.” George Darcy drew in the last breath and died.
William was in shock. How could his father died so suddenly. Just this afternoon, the whole family was having lunch. Now he’s dead. Darcy wouldn’t be able to talk to him ever again.
And what was this argument? Did he hear it correctly? His parents had an argument about his affairs? And he wanted to leave some money to his mistress? Where did this mistress come from? His father always said he was besotted with his mother! Darcy clenched his fist.
He dulled the pain of losing his father. He thought about how to break the news to his mother, if she ever woke up. His parents were driving from Pemberley to Matlock on winding country lanes when their car skidded off the road and plunged 10 metres down the slope. Lady Anne had been unconscious since then.
Darcy suddenly felt extremely angry with his father. George Darcy was a liar. How could he tell his son how he loved his wife every day of his life and had a mistress? Darcy respected and looked up to his father. But everything was just a lie. His father had a mistress on the side. His last thought was of her, wanting to provide for her.
William was so angry that he was going to ignore his father’s instruction. No one was in the room when George Darcy breathed the last words. Let the mistress rot!
Almost two months had past since his father’s death; Darcy’s mother was still unconscious. The doctor gave her very slim chance of ever regaining her senses. He had been busy taking over the management of the company. His sister Georgiana had finally settled back to school, though extremely sad about the accident.
With the grief, the stress of power struggle and responsibility at Pemberley Holding, Darcy had turned bitter and reserved. Sometimes when he retired early in the morning after a hard day of work, he would shut his eyes and thought about his father. How very kind George Darcy once had been. How he loved his father’s mentoring. But his tender thoughts would always end with that name, Elizabeth Benach. Then he would rage against his father, for dying early and cheating on his family.
He was going to ignore this father’s wish but today, he was furious with this Caroline Bingley again and it led to something he couldn’t ignore.
His father hired her about half a year ago because she was the daughter of his best friend. But she was just a shallow scheming fortune hunter. He heard report of her sloppiness in work and arrogant manner. Today, she tried to throw herself at him in the conference room, after a meeting, when every one had left.
The way she sat on the table and spread her legs in front of him made him sick. She didn’t even wear panties for the occasion. He nearly threw up when he caught a glimpse of her, he was sure, well used pussy. She begged him to stay. She said she could help him mourn for the lost of his father. After all, she was one of late Mr. Darcy’s favourite girls.
The words brought a haze in Darcy’s eyes. Don’t tell me you are father’s mistress too, he thought angrily. Pushing her off him, he walked back to his office like a man possessed. He dialled security and had her escorted out of Pemberley Holding that instant.
He was so angry and sick of his father that he tore the phone off the hook and threw it across the room. It struck one of the big photographs on the wall, of his parents looking tenderly at each other in the ground breaking ceremony of PH twenty years ago. It felt onto the ground and broke open.
He rushed over and stepped on it a few more times, to vent his anger. When he rested to gasp for air, he noticed a smaller photo concealed in the photo frame. He saw the back of it. The name Elizabeth was written on it. It was George Darcy’s hand writing!
Darcy picked it up. His nostrils flared. Did he really want to know how his father’s mistress looked like? He shook his head, wanted to tear the photo into thousand pieces. But his hands trembled. Drawing a deep breath, he turned the photo around.
She was absolutely gorgeous. Not the blond and thin celebrity type that was so common nowadays. This Elizabeth was the exact opposite of Caroline Bingley. She looked healthy and voluptuous. She was petite and alive. In the photo, her long curly brown hair was brushed by the wind. She was wearing a modest bikini in green seascape, laughing and playing with a dog on a beach. Her skin looked tan and shinny. Darcy felt like being punched in the stomach. He wanted a woman like this too, to bring sunshine and laughter to his dull and stressful life. She was the epitome of life.
He wanted to find her. He told himself he would honour his father wish, to make her rich. But in his mind, he knew he wanted to possess her. He needed to taste life again. Was that why his father betrayed his mother? Could he bear to lower his standards to bed such a woman? He didn’t know the answer yet but he would soon.
He went home and called George Knightley immediately.
PH’s security chief took two days to find her.
“So fast?” Darcy asked sceptically.
“I got a friend in Scotland Yard. He helped me run the database for Elizabeth Benach.” Knightley shrugged.
Darcy frowned. “She has record? That’s why you found her so fast?”
“If she had record, it would just take him an hour.” The security chief said. “He had to run through driver’s licence instead. She’s clean and she’s not Benach. That’s why it took my friend two days.”
Darcy’s frown became deeper. “Not Benach? But that’s what he said…” He stopped, didn’t want to reveal the connection to his father.
“As I said, my friend ran the record first, no luck. Then he tried the licence database with Elizabeth Benach. It didn’t work either. So he started to try different combinations of her surname, Bernard, Benard etc until he found her. She’s Elizabeth Bennet, 25 years old, working in hospitality.”
So young! Darcy’s eyes flared with anger and asked. “An escort?”
To be continued...