George sighed, his burdens weighing heavily on him. With speculation running rampant in the press concerning his sons, he wondered how long he would be able to hold everything together. He had always been very careful with his public perception. Glancing between the two seated beside him, it bothered him that they were not.
While Fitzwilliam was obstinate in his reluctance to court the media, David had no problem with making a spectacle of himself at every opportunity. Neither gave a damn about their public image. Well, he would make his point crystal clear with them tonight. His time was nearly at an end. Theirs was at hand. If he could just get through to them, together they would be a formable team that would carry this company forward to the next generation. If it was the last thing he did, he would make sure the legacy was passed on—intact. If only…
After dinner, the boys followed their father back to his study. “Sit,” he commanded, pouring them a brandy and handing it to them without even asking. When he was through with them, they’d need it, and more. Cutting through to the chase, he came directly to the point.
“David,” he pinned his son with a stare, “you know I am most unhappy with your public image.”
“Yes, sir,” David stiffened, “I am aware of it.”
“Have you seen this?” His father handed him a copy of the latest tabloid.
David looked at the front cover. Staring at the image of him in a compromising position with one of England’s most famous triple X actresses, his muscles twitched. The caption read “Billionaire Darcy Heir in love with Porn Star Sandra Hamilton.” David’s jaw clenched as he shook his head in disgust while he skimmed the article. Glancing up, he threw the paper back at his father in revulsion. “I don’t read this rubbish.”
“Well,” George stormed, “most of Britain does! Damn it David, the Star is reporting a speculative engagement between you and Miss Hamilton. And let me make it very clear, there had better be no such engagement, or I will cut you off completely. Do you understand me, David Jamison? I’ll not have it!”
“Clearly!” David said coolly, though his eyes were set with fire.
George Darcy cleared his throat and leaned into his second son. “You needn’t be saucy with me, David Darcy. I know you, and I know what’s best. And you can rest assured I will demand it. Which brings me back to point. I have more complaints than this supposed engagement. It’s being reported in the other scandal sheets that you have dipped your nib in half the sullied inkwells in the Kingdom. David, they’re reporting you as one of the worst libertines in all of England, the worst since the Prince Regent, and I don’t like it—any of it!”
David took a rather large gulp of brandy and breathed deeply. …Well, I wonder where I learnt it!
George followed with a large sip of his own before laying into his son. “I want you to know, David Jamison, that this is the kind of thing that embarrasses both the board and me. You are a member of Pemberley’s board of directors and in line for the Chairman of the Board and CEO. How do you think this looks?” he angrily demanded. “People are talking! They say you have slept with almost every actress or model in London. And what’s worse, you do it openly for the whole world to see. Your behavior is appalling! Pemberley has certain standards, and disrespect for the position you hold is unacceptable. The board expects better of you. I expect better of you,” George shouted. “I expect the both of you to remain on the cutting edge of both integrity and dedication to your purpose. By your behavior, you are not fit for your position. Neither of you!”
“Father,” David snapped, “my activities are grossly exaggerated, and the board need only look at their own sons before scrutinizing mine.” David knew how this was going to be received, but it was the absolute truth. One only had to look at his cousins for confirmation of this fact. Many frequented sex clubs, had been responsible for several unplanned pregnancies, and were known to have an affinity for cocaine—all of it kept quietly out of the public eye, covered up with family money.
Mr. Darcy’s fury unleashed. “Their sons do not sit on Pemberley’s Board of Directors, nor do they get their pictures in the tabloids. Damn it, David! Their sons have the decency to be discreet. Is that too much to ask of you? You do not behave this way in public where pictures can be taken! David, public opinion is paramount. Negative publicity hurts Pemberley, lowers your standing with the shareholders, and affects how the board views you. I’ll not have a son of mine behaving in this manner!” Pounding his fist, he sent papers flying. “You are viewed as irresponsible and reckless, not possessing the ability to take Pemberley forward. Negative behavior translates into a lack of dedication, and that translates into a lack of confidence. Whilst some in our social class can get away with it, damn it David, you cannot!”
Mr. Darcy steadied himself and looked directly into David’s eyes, reining in his anger. “This is non-negotiable. I want you married and settled down. I’m already making arrangements to have you introduced to some suitable girls. I want you to choose one by this summer. That is if I can convince their fathers to overlook your sullied reputation. Fathers today want their daughters treated well.”
“Like you treated Mother?” David shot back hotly.
Taken aback, Mr Darcy drew in a deep breath. “What is it with you and your brother? Your mother understood, apparently better than either of you. She knew her place!”
“No, Father, I don’t think she did,” David ground out bitterly.
“You will do as I say, David Jamison Darcy. My brother has two sons who could take your place, and do not ever mention your mother to me again! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly!”
George turned to his older son and lit into him. “Now you, Fitzwilliam Alexander, your public image is only marginally better than your brother’s. Stories are circulating that you are not fit to head Pemberley, either. The financial editorial pages say that if your heritage were important, you would be here, taking an active role in the family business. Look at this!” He flung a newspaper in his son’s direction with a caption reading “Danger in the Darcy Family.”
“There is talk that you plan to leave the family business entirely. No one knows where you are, so they speculate, and I don’t like it one damn bit!” George barked. “You are to come home after this year. Is that clearly understood?!”
Fitzwilliam released an exasperated sigh, tossing back a large swallow of brandy. The air hung thick with tension as father and son stared each other down. After a long, uncomfortable moment, George spoke, his voice somber and cool as he broke the deafening silence.
“Fitzwilliam, pay close attention to me.” George leaned forward. “This obstinacy of yours must come to an end. I want you married! And I want it to be Anne. I have promised Hilda we will have a merger. Anne will be a big asset to you since she will double, if not triple, our income—”
“Father, how much money do we need,” Fitzwilliam interrupted, “and why do you let Hilda dominate you so? She’s a thorn in our side. I’ve already told you I don’t love Anne, and I never will!”
“Enough, Fitzwilliam! A merger with Hilda is not only prudent; it’s smart. Her power and influence carries a great deal of weight. Money is power and Hilda Vanderburgh is money. If she’s your enemy, she can break you. If she’s your friend, nobody can touch you. Hilda is never to be underestimated. Can the two of you not see how things are?” He stressed. “We have to please the board, the shareholders, and those in power in the global economy. All I’m trying to do is preserve Pemberley for the future and to insure that it stays in Darcy hands. I am simply asking you to do your duty.”
“Father, I can’t do this.” Fitzwilliam jumped to his feet and began pacing the floor. “All I have ever wanted is a simple life with a woman that loves me for me. I want to teach. I know that someday I’ll have to give that up. I understand my responsibilities, but I thought I could follow my own desires for a little while—at least whilst you’re still active within the com
pany.” He turned, catching his father’s severe look.
“Fitzwilliam, take your seat!”
Staring at his father, he turned and dropped into his chair.
George Darcy shook his head and placed his hands on the sleek mahogany finish of his desk as he pressed forward. “Fitzwilliam, you and David are Darcys. You can’t have the luxuries of other men. You were born to a different sphere. The two of you, especially you, Fitzwilliam, were born for a reason and a purpose. It’s best if you come to terms with that fact,” he said. “Both of you must understand that whoever runs this company is this company. You are Pemberley’s image. It was built over the generations, piece by piece, with the blood, sweat, and tears of dedicated men—Darcy men, and I will not have the two of you destroy everything this family has sacrificed to build! If the board hears of this conversation, they will remove you—both of you!”
Fitzwilliam took a deep, steadying breath before emptying the contents of his glass. “That isn’t the way it’s always been. I’ve read The Masters of Pemberley, and I know, starting with the first Fitzwilliam, it was different for at least a hundred and fifty years. He married for love and did quite well. In fact, we owe much of our fortune to him, and his son, Alexander, also married the woman he loved, as did all of Fitzwilliam’s sons.”
“I am aware of our history, Fitzwilliam.” George said. “His family didn’t approve, and neither would have I, had I been there. His uncle, Lord Matlock, and his aunt, Lady Catherine, both broke from him publicly. Lady Catherine never spoke to him again. He was simply lucky. Drive, determination, ambition, and desire are what it takes. The bottom line is…can you deliver the goods? Can you turn a profit for the shareholders? You’ve got to have that fire in your belly—the fire that burns hot when under the gun, and I’m beginning to wonder if either of you has what it takes to run this company. As it stands currently, neither of you do!”
He paused, looking from one to the other, and held up his hand. “Do you see this ring?”
The brothers nodded.
“For five hundred years, the man who sat at the helm, keeping watch over the keep, has worn it. It is a ring that signifies power and the family name. I wear it. My father wore it, his father before him wore it, Fitzwilliam wore it, and Alexander wore it. And you, Fitzwilliam, will one day wear it, but will you be worthy?” George solemnly shook his head. Glancing between his two sons, he cleared his throat. “Like my forefathers before me, I understand what it takes to run this company, but do either of you?” He threw up his hands in acquiescence before taking his drink and downing it. “We will continue this at another time,” Mr. Darcy said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
~*~
Later that night, David planned to meet his brother in his private sitting room. As he paced about his own sitting room, many things were coursing through his mind. This evening’s family meeting had shaken him badly. And as a result of it, one thing had become crystal clear to him. He would have to break off his public trysts with his longtime girlfriend, Sandra Hamilton, in lieu of a more private affair. He wondered how Sandra would take the news when he told her, but if she wished to continue seeing him, she would have to abide by his wishes. If not, he would drop her. He had warned her about the tabloids, and she understood perfectly his concerns. She might be his favorite girlfriend, but she was not indispensable.
His own private life neatly tucked away, his mind shifted to his brother. He and Fitzwilliam had discussed his brother’s situation at length after they had left their father’s study and decided to put everything aside for now. However, in light of what had transpired, David had considered it further. If he was going to help his brother defy their father, he had to know everything there was to know about this Elizabeth Bennett. He knew how much Fitzwilliam wanted a wife and a family, and he also knew that his brother had already had one failed relationship ten years ago with hardly anything in between. The fact that this Elizabeth was an American and that his brother had only known her for four months weighed heavily on his mind. He had to make sure his brother was not being drawn in once again by some fortune hunter. Only then would he feel confident enough to take a stand against their father. Passing his hand over his face, he exited his room in route to his brother’s.
David entered Fitzwilliam’s sitting room to find him with a bottle of brandy and a box of cigars. Fitzwilliam poured two glasses and motioned for his brother to take a cigar. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a fine cigar?” He blew a ring of smoke. “You can’t buy these in America, and the liquor there is not as fine as we have here. They drink Jack Daniels and Kentucky Bourbon.” He grimaced. “They’re an acquired taste.” Fitzwilliam leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long legs, enjoying his Cuaba Generosos and drink.
David took a sip of brandy and then lit his cigar. “So, Fitzwilliam, tell me about this American woman who has bewitched you. Is it really love, or something else? It’s been many years since you’ve been with a woman.”
“You come straight to the point, don’t you? Well,” Fitzwilliam chuckled, “it’s a little of both. I do love her, and it is time for me to settle down. And I do need her in the way you’re insinuating, but there’s so much more to it than the physical aspect. She’s the best woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing—very intelligent, and beautiful, too. She can hold her own with almost any subject we choose to discuss, and sometimes she even gets the better of me. There’s nothing like an intellectual challenge, and she’s certainly that. Let me tell you the story from the beginning.”
Fitzwilliam related the entire story to his brother, starting with the latter part of July up until his departure to London, omitting the finer details of his last night in Tennessee. He revealed to David about the coffee shop, how they met, her love for horses and hounds, and finally her family farm and his suspicion of a family connection to which David listened to with keen interest, asking several questions before nodding for him to continue. Lastly, he told him about their lively discussion on history, literature, and current events, and then how he proposed to her.
“So she didn’t know who you were before you proposed? You say she was hesitant at first concerning marriage?”
“Yes, she was,” he said. “I know our love developed rather quickly, but I pushed much more than she pulled. And she is willing to marry me with or without the Darcy conglomerate. She’s not poor by American standards, but it’s nothing compared to our wealth. And, David…I love her.” His lips twisted into a sly grin. “She completes me in every way and brings out the best in me. I want you to know her. You’ll love her like a sister.” He reached for the book resting on the side cabinet. “Here, look at these pictures. This one,” he pointed, “is of her on her white Lipizzan stallion with her hair down her back covering her like I’ve always pictured the heroine from Tolkien’s The Tale of Beren and Lúthien. And here, look at this. She’s wearing those blue jeans with a hole in the knee and the white tee shirt I first saw her in.”
“Hmm… She’s got a great body. I can appreciate that.” David softly laughed. “She is beautiful.”
“Yes, I would definitely say she is at that. Look at this one. She’s sitting on the same horse, and see how beautiful she is with her hair blowing in the wind.”
“Ah, I like this one of you in the swing with her in your lap,” David laughed, shuffling through the pictures. “Her smile is evident in each picture, but it’s your smile in this last picture that stands out to me. I don’t ever remember seeing you this happy.”
“I am very happy. She’s the one—the one I’ve searched for, and to think I found her hidden away in a small, sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere.”
David’s lips pleasantly curled, perusing the pictures once more. “Hmm very well, I get your point. I do want to meet her someday. I can see that you clearly love her, and if she loves you half as much, I’ll be very happy for the both of you. It looks like you’ll marry a cousin after all,” David said with a smile
as he handed the pictures back to his brother.
Fitzwilliam chuckled. “Yes, it does at that, doesn’t it?”
“Now,” David said, turning with a smile, “we have to get past Father. He may remove you from the board, but I doubt he’ll disinherit you, at least not completely.”
“Well, if he does, I’m prepared for that. We’ll make a living on what we have, if we must.”
David shook his head and shrugged. “I really don’t think you will have to worry about that, and I’ll tell you why. With all of our talk about Father, I’ll grant you one concession. He does love you as much as he knows how to love anyone. Of that, I’m certain.”
Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes and laughed. “I hope you’re correct.” Taking another puff on his cigar, he asked, “Do you happen to know what he was alluding to with the board of directors?”
“Yes,” David sipped his drink with a nod, “it seems that Uncle Dashwood, Stanley, and Wesley don’t think you or I live up to the image of Pemberley, PLC. They would like to replace me with one of our Darcy cousins and you with Artimus Dashwood. In fact, there are several of the cousins that have long since despised us. They think I’m a pampered playboy, and that you’re not dedicated enough to the company. Father fears that they may act to take the company away from the long line of first sons. That’s why he’s insisting that I behave and you marry well. With Anne’s money, they wouldn’t dare touch you.”
Fitzwilliam frowned. “Which Darcy cousins?”
“The usual suspects. Edward, Charles, Edmund, Henry, Sebastian, and several others who’re afraid to show their animosity publicly. They’ll make a move if they think they can win.”
“What about Uncle Harvey, and William and Benson?”
The Cumberland Plateau Page 23