Compulsively Mr. Darcy

by Nina Benneton

  The door opened behind her. Anne de Bourgh entered. Mrs. Ching glanced at the agenda to double-check; just as she’d thought, Miss de Bourgh’s name appeared nowhere.

  Miss de Bourgh coolly took a seat directly across from Mr. Bingley. “I thought we could talk about our new acquisition in Chicago. I see you don’t have that on the agenda. We’ll add it to the end of the meeting.”

  The meeting started. Mr. Bingley formally announced he would chair the meeting in place of Mr. Darcy. The CEO was stuck in California for personal reasons. After taking care of some routine business, Mr. Bingley gave Mr. Fitzwilliam the floor. The latter announced a new plan to revamp computer security at DDF. A long question and answer session ensued with some board members in favor and some against.

  “We need more concrete proof of why and how our security system is not safe,” Miss de Bourgh stated.

  Some board members nodded in agreement. One said, “Has there been a breach, Richard?”

  “There’s no overt breach. We simply want to be cautious and upgrade to the highest level there is,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that to prove to us why the expense would be worth it before we vote,” added another board member. “You moved the board meeting from next week to today for it. There must be a good reason. How about a demonstration?”

  Murmurings around the room rose in agreement with the last speaker’s statement.

  “I can give you a demonstration. I’m Tina Darling and I’m the computer expert Mr. Fitzwilliam has been consulting with. I can show you how easily it is for me to break into your current computer system in just a couple of minutes.” The young lady walked up to a board member sitting next to Miss de Bourgh and pointed to his laptop. “May I?”

  “Sure, sugar. I’ve got nothing dirty in there,” he drawled and winked. The crowd tittered.

  Ms. Darling returned to her seat and worked with the laptop. She bit her lip and flipped her bangs, looking more nervous as the minutes ticked on. Mr. Fitzwilliam began to shift in his chair and Mr. Bingley’s hands fidgeted with the papers in front of him.

  Miss de Bourgh leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Ms. Darling, if you don’t get through his DDF laptop in the next decade, you can try some of our other ones. Or do you need a password for security clearance?”

  As if she had been waiting for such an opportunity, Ms. Darling eagerly reached across the conference table for Miss de Bourgh’s laptop. “No password needed, but I’ll try yours.”

  A few minutes later, with a satisfied tone, Miss de Bourgh said, “Stumped, Ms. Darling?”

  “Just give me a few more minutes,” Ms. Darling said. “It’s harder than I thought.”

  “Of course it is. I myself recommended the security system to our CEO.” Miss de Bourgh laughed aloud. A handful of the other board members joined in.

  In the midst of the increased din in the room, the door opened behind Mrs. Ching again. She started when Elizabeth from the deli slipped in. Her entrance was unnoticed by almost everyone else in the room.

  Eyes widening in surprise when she saw Mrs. Ching, Elizabeth came and sat right beside her. In her hand, she carried a paper bag with the Carnegie Deli logo. She whispered, “Pickles.”

  “What—?”

  “Shh!” Elizabeth put her finger to her lips and turned toward the action.

  Miss de Bourgh motioned Ms. Darling to turn the laptop around. “Time’s up. Let us see what you’ve discovered.”

  “Are you sure?” the computer expert asked.

  “Yes.”

  Shrugging, Miss Darling turned the laptop to face Miss de Bourgh.

  A loud gasp escaped from the board member sitting next to Miss de Bourgh.

  Immediately, everyone else lurched close, including both Mrs. Ching and Elizabeth. Gasps reverberated throughout.

  “Oh my! No wonder you didn’t want to miss the meeting,” Elizabeth whispered to Mrs. Ching. She returned to her chair and focused her attention on opening the twist tie of her Carnegie Deli bag.

  “That’s my private stuff.” Miss de Bourgh ran around the conference table and fought to get through the huddling mass. “How dare you! Give me back my laptop!”

  Mr. Fitzwilliam grabbed the laptop. “You gave her permission to break into it, and this laptop is DDF’s property.”

  Miss Darling took the computer from Mr. Fitzwilliam, her fingers flying on the keyboard again, and taunted, “Besides your icky pictures, you have what looks like child pornography on your laptop, and that’s a crime, sugar.”

  “The girl’s over eighteen,” Miss de Bourgh screamed. “There is no Darcy present. The bylaws says those who called the board meeting will be dismissed.”

  A small voice spoke up, “They have a Darcy here.”

  A young woman stepped forward. Mrs. Ching’s mouth opened. Why, Miss Darcy had been sitting hidden behind Mr. Bingley’s new assistant Wendy the whole time!

  “Some of you may remember meeting Miss Georgiana Darcy years ago,” Mr. Fitzwilliam introduced his cousin. “She’s grown up.”

  Miss Georgiana looked petrified, then she glanced in Mrs. Ching’s direction and her face relaxed. Mrs. Ching smiled and gave a little wave. She hadn’t seen young Georgiana for years and didn’t think the young lady even remembered what she even looked like. With some embarrassment, Mrs. Ching saw Elizabeth copy her greeting.

  After waving and smiling at Miss Georgiana, Elizabeth noisily ferreted around her pickle bag. Oblivious that she now had the whole room’s attention, she pulled out a pickle and took a big bite.

  Crunch. Crunch. The sound of Elizabeth munching the pickle was the only one heard for a long moment.

  Self-conscious that people might think she had brought an uninvited guest to a board meeting, Mrs. Ching nudged Elizabeth on the shoulder, trying to get her to leave.

  Elizabeth swallowed. “I’m sorry, am I making too much noise chewing? My husband hates it when people do that, though he pretends he doesn’t mind when I do it. I just have this craving for crunchy, green, dill pickles. I don’t like it when they’re yellow and mushy and old. I like them green and fresh and have a snap when you bite into them. These Carnegie Deli green pickles are the best.” Crunch. Crunch. Again, Elizabeth took another bite and munched happily.

  “You! Why you!” Miss de Bourgh said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I invited her,” Mrs. Ching defended Elizabeth. She didn’t know why Elizabeth was here next to her chomping noisily on a pickle, but Mrs. Ching wasn’t going to let anyone harm the pregnant lady—even if she herself thought her new friend must be very odd. Oh dear, she followed me here, Mrs. Ching worried. One never knew about people with mental problems who may be off their medications during pregnancy.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, she told me she knew the best place for dim sum in Chinatown. I have a craving now. Hey, after the meeting, let’s all go for some. You get a better deal if there’s a large crowd to share.” She frowned at Miss de Bourgh. “Well, at least those of us who aren’t going to be arrested for child pornography could go.”

  Miss de Bourgh moved toward Elizabeth.

  “You touch one hair on my wife’s head, and you’re dead,” a steely voice said from the doorway.

  At the fury in Mr. Darcy’s eyes, Mrs. Ching’s hand went to her heart.

  Miss de Bourgh’s face paled and she stood rooted.

  Elizabeth waved her half-eaten pickle at Mr. Darcy. “Hi, love. You’ve made it.”

  Mrs. Ching needed to sit down, quick. She was too old for this kind of shock, she decided. Elizabeth gently patted her on the shoulder.

  Mr. Darcy ignored everyone else and walked toward his wife. With his back to the rest of the room, he bent and carefully inspected her. Elizabeth reached in the bag and pulled out another pickle. With a quirk of her eyebrow, she offered it to Mr. Darcy. Lips twitching, he shot her a warning glance. He then turned and decisively dismissed the board meeting.

  His employees and th
e board members filed out. Mrs. Ching stood to follow.

  Elizabeth placed a hand on her arm and whispered, “Lorna, you stay.”

  “Mrs. Darcy?” Mrs. Ching felt compelled to confirm. When Elizabeth smiled and nodded, Mrs. Ching whispered, “But you told me you wanted to go bargain shopping for baby clothes.”

  “I do want to go bargain shopping for baby clothes. I’ve always been a bargain shopper,” Elizabeth whispered back. “What a coincidence, you working here. Who’s your bear of a boss? I’d like to offer him a pickle.”

  “You just did.” Mrs. Ching allowed herself a tiny smile and nodded when Elizabeth’s eyes widened and mouthed, “Mrs. Ching?”

  The next moment, they both sobered as they turned back to the near-empty room.

  Three people Mrs. Ching didn’t recognize approached Miss de Bourgh.

  “Anne de Bourgh, I presume?” an unfamiliar young woman asked. Miss de Bourgh responded with a haughty look, which turned ashen at the sight of the badge the young lady flashed. “I’m Eleanor Dashwood of the FBI Anti-Child Pornography Task Force. You are now under arrest for possessing and transmitting child pornography…”

  “My word!” Mrs. Ching whispered when Miss de Bourgh screamed she was set up.

  Mr. Darcy approached and, without words, simply stared at her. The screaming abruptly stopped. Miss de Bourgh’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  After the agents and Miss de Bourgh left a few minutes later, heavy silence hung in the room. Mr. Darcy walked to the window and stared out, his body stiff. Elizabeth put down her pickle and signaled for everyone else to leave. Silently, they did as she requested.

  Right before she closed the door, Mrs. Ching glanced back into the room. Elizabeth had her head on her husband’s shoulder and her arms around him.

  ***

  As they viewed New York City below them through the window, Elizabeth gently rubbed her husband’s back. Gradually, the stiffness left his body.

  He turned to face her. “I feel so responsible.”

  Her heart broke at the sadness in his eyes and the guilt in his voice. She gave him a few more minutes to blame himself before she comforted him with a kiss. His lips clung to hers. When he finally broke contact, she said, “I know you do, my love. I wish I could make you see it’s not your fault.”

  “Thank you for calling me. I got here as fast as I could. I’m going to have nightmares from the thought of what could have happened to you and Georgiana flying on a commercial plane—”

  “Shhh,” she interrupted, amused that with everything that had happened, he’d chosen to perseverate on that detail. “We couldn’t take the risk of someone at DDF learning and leaking to Anne that Georgiana and I were flying here this morning if we had used the company’s jet.”

  “I wished you had listened to me and stayed away from here today and let—”

  “And miss all the fun?” she cut him off again. “I did try to stay away, but when I saw that you hadn’t shown up by the time the meeting started, I couldn’t let Georgiana be the only Darcy there.”

  “If anything had happened to you—”

  “Nothing did,” she soothed. They had lured Anne to DDF with the leaked news of a secret board meeting. William was supposed to have arrived before the meeting and surprised Anne with an order to see her laptop. “I’m so sorry it got public and involved your whole board. We didn’t count on you being late, so the meeting had to go on as scheduled and then things just happened—”

  “Sweetheart, I need to tell you that…”

  “I told my parents not to let Lydia get involved with a reality TV show!” she shouted when he finished telling her what had happened in Hollywood. She spent a few minutes ranting and ignored her husband’s attempts to calm her. Then the humor of it got to her. She shook her head. “Both of us were protecting each other’s little sister without telling the other.”

  A wry smile appeared on his face. “Great minds think alike.”

  She sobered. “So that was why you had the FBI here. I didn’t expect them. Gosh, what a mess this is going to be.”

  “After your phone call about Georgiana and Anne, I knew I had to immediately talk to the FBI agent in charge, Ms. Dashwood. That’s why I was late.”

  “I’m a bit confused why. It defeated the purpose of us protecting Georgiana by deleting the pictures on Anne’s computer.”

  “I knew the FBI would soon make the connection between Anne and Wickham and track her down. I didn’t want any of us to be charged with tampering with evidence or impeding an investigation. Brandon convinced me that Ms. Dashwood is a reasonable, sensible person and to lay everything up front on the table.”

  “So you did, I see.”

  He nodded. “In exchange for not including any photos of Georgiana as evidence—”

  “That is, if they can find any after Mary’s done with the computer.”

  “I know you have great faith in your sister’s skills on the computer, but I can’t take that risk,” he pointed out. “As I was saying, in exchange, I gave Ms. Dashwood open access to DDF. I will not use my resources and have lawyers involved to hinder her investigation.”

  “Mary said the authorities wouldn’t be able to really prove…” She stopped. “You’re right. As usual, you thought through everything carefully.”

  “If it hadn’t been for my blindness—”

  She put her fingers on his mouth. “Okay, buster. Here’s the deal. I won’t blame myself and you don’t blame yourself. Agreed?”

  He kissed her fingers. “Agreed. I love you, Mrs. Darcy.”

  Though she knew he agreed only to humor her, she let it go. “I love you too, Mr. Darcy. Now, I have had enough of this ugly business for today. You finish what you have to do here and then come home. I know how to make you feel better.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Love and Acceptance of Mr. Darcy

  Elizabeth turned a page and laughed aloud. She gave the tabloid to her aunt and pointed. In the background of a photo taken at a Hollywood premiere of Jorge Cooley’s latest movie, Hussein and Caroline, standing behind the actor, smiled into the camera.

  “Are you okay?” Aunt Mai put aside the magazine when Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Are they kicking you too hard?”

  “I’m fine.” She ignored the wave of the gentle contraction lolling over her abdomen. “My appointment time was thirty minutes ago. I’ll be late calling William. He’s going to be more anxious and difficult.”

  “Yes, very likely,” Aunt Mai’s voice was dry.

  “He has reasons to be anxious and difficult,” Elizabeth defended her husband.

  “No need to explain.” Aunt Mai rubbed Elizabeth’s forearm. “It’s understandable William and you feel guilty and responsible, but remember the woman was actually beating her lawyers with her cane when she suffered a fatal stroke. They caught it on video at the courthouse.”

  Elizabeth sighed. It was such a dramatic way for William’s aunt to have died, just as she was being charged with trafficking child pornography. The authorities didn’t buy her or Anne’s defense that the women had meant for Wickham to target Kitty, not Lydia.

  “Your uncle suspects Mr. Wickham, as this is not his first offense, will likely get three consecutive life sentences with no chance of parole, and Miss de Bourgh a few years.”

  “I hope they rot in prison.”

  “Don’t get yourself upset,” Aunt Mai soothed. “Focus on what’s coming, like these two precious babies. I’m surprised you managed to get their father onto the plane yesterday.”

  “They need him in New York. They haven’t yet found a computer security system Mary can’t hack into. He plans to be back in a couple of days.”

  “He made a schedule of who—along with the backup person—was to be with you at all hours while he’s gone. He has called us all repeatedly to make sure we all know our shifts and what to do if you even hiccup.” Aunt Mai laughed. “We took bets that he wouldn’t leave.”

  “New York is only
a five-hour flight away. Jane’s there. She’ll keep me posted if William gets too stressed. I’m glad she accepted his offer to have her oversee the Pemberley Trust Foundation. He needs someone he can trust and Jane needs to be in New York to get to know Charles better.”

  “How’s that romance going?”

  “He worries that he’s not good enough for her, and she worries that she’s got too much baggage from her old relationship, but they’re progressing.”

  “And your sister Mary and Richard? Are they progressing?”

  “Now that’s a relationship I’m not even going to comment on.” Elizabeth shook her head, bemused. “Who’d ever have thought—” She suddenly felt short of breath.

  “Lizzy?” Her aunt’s face looked concerned. “You look like you’re in labor.”

  After her breathing normalized, Elizabeth reassured her aunt, “False labor contraction. Nothing to worry about.”

  Her aunt ignored her and took out her cell phone. “I’m calling your husband. I value my life.”

  ***

  Darcy carefully placed the phone down. He stood and walked slowly at first until he reached the hallway. His stride lengthened. He weaved through desks and cubicles. The startled faces of his employees flashed by him. Spying the lit down triangle above the elevator door, he broke into a run. He launched himself through the doors just as it opened, clipping the shoulder of the man walking out.

  “Darce, where are you going? The meeting with the computer people is starting now.”

  “Elizabeth, my babies,” was all the response Bingley got before the elevator doors closed on him.

  Jane was at a meeting across town. He should wait for her. No. The precious seconds the elevator took to descend to the ground floor convinced him he could not wait for anyone or anything. The elevators opened. He tore through the lobby, not caring he was scattering a group of his employees as if they were bowling pins.

  Thirty minutes later, when the DDF car couldn’t maneuver past a New York City traffic jam—a pregnant woman delivering her seventh child in the middle of the roadway a few miles up ahead was rumored to be the cause—he unbuckled his seat belt. Barking a series of last-minute instructions to his bodyguard and driver, he took off his jacket and tie and exited the car, shutting the door on their protests.