The Cumberland Plateau

by Mary K. Baxley

  “Well, be forewarned. It’s only a matter of time before this story breaks in London. I mean, the real story—that you are not on assignment for Brit Am, but that you are in Tennessee and involved. As I told you last week, your name has popped up in a few of the American papers. I’m doing as much damage control as I can, and so is Father. I’ll be in London the day after tomorrow. I’ll let you know something later.”

  “Thanks, David…and how is Father? Is he all right?”

  “As far as I can tell, he is, but as I told you last time we talked, he’s furious. We’ve been at loggerheads ever since his interview with me last week.”

  “Yes, I know, and I appreciate all you’re doing. Well, I just pulled up to the house. I’ll talk with you later.”

  “Take care, Brother…and I do mean take care. These are perilous times.”

  Fitzwilliam slid his mobile shut and grabbed his briefcase and the bag of groceries. Walking up the back steps to the kitchen door, he could hear the television set. He entered the kitchen and dropped his briefcase on the counter, giving Elizabeth a quick kiss as he passed by.

  Retrieving the orange juice from the bag, he walked over to the refrigerator and placed it on the shelf, grabbing a beer and twisting the top before he closed the door. As he took a long, slow drink, his eyes caught the image on the set. CNN was broadcasting the latest developments.

  “Miss Lydia Fanning collapsed in the court room today under the intense cross examination from Nunley’s defense attorney, Lawrence Braswell. It appears that Mr. Braswell’s attempt to connect Miss Fanning to the murder of Michael Spears, the Fish and Wildlife agent Jackie Lee Nunley is accused of murdering, may have backfired. Miss Fanning became emotionally distraught and stood up, screaming just before she fainted. With the tactics displayed today, many around the courthouse are saying that public sympathy will surely begin to shift in favor of Miss Fanning, who is eight months pregnant.

  This is Tom Weatherly reporting from the Federal Courthouse in Nashville, Tennessee. And now back to you, Jeff. What are they saying on the streets of Nashville?”

  “Well, Tom, you are right. With the defense calling Miss Fanning a woman of loose moral character from a family with a long history of vice, Braswell is perceived as…”

  Fitzwilliam walked over and clicked off the set. Casting a sharp glance at his wife, he asked, “Is it necessary to bring this claptrap into our house?”

  Elizabeth turned from the stove. “Fitzwilliam, is that any way to greet your wife?” She paused for a moment. “I have it on because Jane, Bette, and Lori have all called in the last fifteen minutes, telling me to turn on the TV. My family is clearly worried about Liddy. Apparently she’s in the hospital having a nervous breakdown.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want this on in my house. It’s bad enough that I have to see it everywhere I go, but to have it in my own home? I won’t have it, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth set aside the spoon she was using to stir the Chinese vegetables and walked over to her husband. Putting her arms around his waist, she gave him a hug. “Believe me, I do understand. This is wearing thin on all of us.” She sighed. “It’s your father, isn’t it? You’re worried about how he’s taking this.”

  He set the beer down and pulled her tightly against his chest, tucking her head in the curve of his neck. “Yes. Since that call from David last week, I have worried about him. He’s not well. I sense it, and he will not speak to me. I called him this morning before my first class, and he wouldn’t even take the call. Mrs. Foulkes told me he was busy, but I knew he wasn’t. I could hear it in her voice. Betty never was a good liar. But she did tell me that my dad does not look well and that he’s drinking far too much.”

  Darcy pulled back and looked Elizabeth directly in the eye. “If something should happen to him, I would feel responsible.”

  Elizabeth bristled and pushed away. “Feel responsible? Why—because you married me?”

  “No, Liz, it’s not that, and you know it. I love you, and about that I have no regrets. What I would feel responsible for is that he and I could never see eye to eye on anything. I want what any son would want. I want my father to love me for me. I want him to accept me for who I am.” He turned away and ran his hands through his hair.

  Elizabeth picked up her spoon and began to stir the vegetables again. “It’s almost ready. If you will set the table, I’ll have this served in five minutes. And no, Fitzwilliam, I do not completely understand. It is I who has come between you and your father, but you are the one who made the choice. I didn’t force you. And it is me and my family who have to suffer the disgrace brought upon us by Liddy. I know people are talking. Let them. The old busybodies! As long as they are talking about us, they’re giving someone else a rest. That’s what Aunt Barshaba used to say, and I think it’s true. Aunt Ida used to say that those who know us know that we are good people, and all will be forgotten in time.”

  As he set the plates and flatware on the table, he looked up and said, “Darling, let’s not talk about this any longer. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that everywhere we go, it’s in our faces, and yes, I know it will pass. I’m the one who’s been telling you that, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. Now get the iced tea, and let’s eat. I have fifty papers to grade, and you have those essays. Tomorrow we go to the farm—away from all this madness. Uncle Henry wants you to help him band the pigs, and I’m going to help Lori with the garden.”

  “All right, Liz, let’s eat,” he said as he took the pitcher of tea from the counter.

  “I’m going off the pill next month,” she said as she followed him into the dining room, “so let’s forget about this and enjoy ourselves with more pleasant diversions like practicing for that baby you want—after we’ve finished our paperwork, of course.”

  “I agree,” he said with a warm smile as he helped her into her chair before taking his own.

  One Week Later

  Sunday morning at approximately three a.m. CST, the phone rang.

  “Fitzwilliam.”

  “David, do you know what time it is here?”

  “It can’t be helped. Father has had a serious heart attack. The doctors don’t think he will live. You need to get here right away. I’ve made reservations for you to fly British Airways out of Atlanta at ten a.m. EST. You’ll have to hurry. According to my calculations, it’s a four hour drive to Atlanta from where you are,” David paused for a moment. “Fitzwilliam, there’s one other thing I have to tell you. There’s a problem with Pemberley as well.”

  Fitzwilliam sat up straight. “What is it, David?”

  David exhaled into the phone. “There is an attempt by some on the board of directors to take control away from the Darcy family, or I should say away from you and me. Three, maybe more, board members have begun buying stock to get the controlling shares. They are moving to secure a coalition against us. We have to move quickly to get that stock before they do. I can’t do this alone. You are now the acting CEO and Chairman of the Board. Fitzwilliam, you and I are now in charge.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll ring Bingley and have him and Jane cover for me at the university. Elizabeth will ring the Maths Department Head—”

  “No, don’t bring Elizabeth. If she comes, it will only make matters worse. It seems that some on the board are dissatisfied with us over our willful disobedience to Father’s wishes, or at least, that’s what they’re saying.”

  “David, what are you talking about? She’s my wife!”

  “You know what I am talking about. They’re dissatisfied with you on several fronts—your marriage aside. There have been several news leaks from within Pemberley about you and me—our loyalty to the family, your disinterest in the company, and my immoral lifestyle. They think you should have been here. Apparently, they think that Father has been distracted by us and has not managed things as they think he should have. They don’t like it that you married against Father’s wishes. They say it shows a
flagrant display of irresponsibility and disrespect. They also think you should have remained among our social class, but you knew how they felt before you married. Some within the family and company say we have shown a lack of concern for the family and the company. And there is one other thing.”

  “What more can there possibly be?”

  “The story broke yesterday in London concerning your connections with that drug trial in Tennessee, but that’s not all. It was quite a shock for London’s society to find out that you were not working for Pemberley and that you had married. No one outside the family and Father’s close circle knew of your marriage since he had kept it a close secret. As you can guess, the tabloid press is eating you and your wife alive. She has become your Yoko Ono.”

  “I see.” He released a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, shaking his head. He could only imagine the chaos breaking in London. Releasing another deep breath, he continued. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll have to explain it all to Elizabeth.”

  He hung up the phone and fell back on the bed, clearly upset.

  “Fitzwilliam, what’s wrong?”

  “My dad has had a heart attack. I have to go to London right away. Ring Charles. I’ll need him to drive me to the airport, and I’ll need you to ring Dr. Dickens at a reasonable hour,” he said, getting out of bed.

  “What about me? Am I not coming?”

  “Not this time, sweetheart. There are some very big problems. It seems that some on the board of directors are using this as a time to attempt a corporate takeover via a proxy fight.”

  “Proxy fight? What’s that?”

  “It’s a way of gaining enough leverage to effectively reorganize the board of directors in order to remove certain members—namely David and me.” He looked pointedly at her while pulling on a pair of jeans. “Elizabeth, they are using you, our marriage, and Liddy’s scandal as a weapon against me. My business integrity is being called into question. I don’t have time to explain it all right now. Trust me. I need you to stay here until I send for you.” He walked over to the closet, retrieved his suitcase and began throwing his things into it.

  She fought back tears. “All right… I will do as you say. I’ll take care of business at the university. Jane can cover your Classical Philosophy class. I might be able to cover the Latin I class since I have helped you with it, and I know where you are and what you are doing. Could Charles cover the Latin II and Greek?”

  “Yes, he can. If not, I know Jane can help him. She’s almost as well versed as I am. I know she can handle it. Besides, Dickens has others who can help. We have that grad assistant, Shockley. I think he can handle it.” Jerking another shirt from the closet rack, he glanced over at Elizabeth and emphatically said, “They’ll manage. My class schedule is the least of my worries.” He stuffed the last of his items into the large case before grabbing The Masters of Pemberley and gently placing it on top of his clothes.

  Zipping the case shut, he turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll ring you as soon as I arrive. This means we’ll have to postpone our honeymoon. We’ll also have to give up our teaching positions. Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. I know what teaching means to you, but once we are settled, you can secure a position in England.”

  Suppressing a sob, she replied, “It’s all right. I am your wife and a Darcy. I will do whatever is needed for the preservation of our family.”

  “Elizabeth, I’m so relieved you understand. You don’t know what that means to me. I love you so very much. Even without Pemberley, we are still quite wealthy. It’s not the money. This empire began with Fitzwilliam Alexander Darcy and has been passed down through the line to me, Fitzwilliam Alexander Darcy II. I can’t fail my family or my heritage. I take my responsibility very seriously in spite of what some may think. I will do whatever is necessary. David and I must carry the day. Make plans to close up the house and pack for the move to London. I will send for you when this is over. Charles will help you.” He stopped what he was doing and took her in his arms. “I love you, Liz. I hope you know that. I will call.”

  “Fitzwilliam, I may not be able to go to London with you, but I’m driving you to the airport—not Charles. Since it may be some time before I see you again, I’m spending these last few hours with you.” She was at the point of tears.

  Compassion overcame him. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I’m afraid I’ve shifted gears into business mode. I have so much on my mind.”

  With his things loaded in the car, they set out for Atlanta. He brought her to the gate leading to his plane. Elizabeth looked up at him with tears in her eyes as he cupped her face for one final kiss, and then he was gone. Elizabeth had a foreboding feeling that this was much more serious than the little information Fitzwilliam had revealed to her.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  …Death? The last sleep? No, death is the final awakening…

  -Sir Walter Scott

  The tedious flight to London gave Fitzwilliam time to think. He oscillated between worrying about his father and trying to fully understand the situation in London from the limited information David had given him. One thing he knew for certain. When he did take up his post as CEO, he was going to make a clean sweep of the board and dismiss many of the corporate executives.

  Deep in thought, he tried to prioritize his concerns. His primary interest was his father, then he had to protect his wife, and finally he had to secure Pemberley. In a little over four weeks, the semester would end, and although he longed to have Elizabeth by his side when he faced the trials that were certain to come, he knew for her own welfare she should remain where she was. There he was certain she would be safe from the firestorm of publicity the tabloid press would create. As for Pemberley, he would evaluate the situation once he was sure of his father’s state of health. Wiping his brow, exhausted from worry, he pushed his thoughts aside and leaned back in his seat, drifting off into uneasy sleep.

  ~*~

  The plane touched down at Heathrow in the early morning hours. His brother and cousin, Richard Winthrop, were there to receive him. David looked anxious and utterly exhausted as he came forward and hugged his brother.

  “Fitzwilliam, thank God you are here.”

  “David, when did it happen? Where is Father? Can we see him?” he asked as he quickly moved to claim his luggage.

  “Hold on! Let’s get your bags, and then I’ll explain everything I know.”

  After retrieving his luggage, they raced through the airport, loaded the car, and once on their way, David explained, “Wallace found him at about six a.m. yesterday. When he noticed Father was late in calling for him, he went to find out why, and that’s when he found him still in bed unconscious. Wallace called me right away. I rang 999, and they rushed him to the CCU at St. Thomas’. He’s alive, but the doctors say his heart is severely damaged. Apparently this wasn’t his first heart attack. He was keeping it from us. I suppose that’s why he kept pressing us to marry and produce an heir. Whenever he regains consciousness, he asks for you.”

  “Have you seen him yet?”

  “No, he wants to see us together. He’s spent what little time he’s been awake with Georgiana, Harvey, and Samantha.”

  “Samantha? She came?”

  “Yes, she did. Father is her brother, after all. Hopefully, they’ve made up.”

  “I do hope so.” Fitzwilliam sighed, “Now, give me the up-shot on Pemberley.”

  “Well, three of the board members are leading the drive to have us removed from the board. They are buying up shares to gain the majority holding needed to call an EGM. They’re intent on drumming up enough proxy votes to pass a resolution to reorganize the board. Richard, tell him what you know.”

  “An EGM… extraordinary general meeting …I see,” Fitzwilliam breathed out.

  “Fitz, as David said, it involves three members, Harry Dashwood, Jonathan Stanley, and Jason Wesley. Then there are your Darcy cousins, Edward, Henry, Edmund, and Charles Wilson and Sean Ashton as well as several other Darcys who
aren’t brave enough to come out into the open but who appear to support the opposition. It would seem that several of them don’t approve of your American wife, especially now that they’ve heard the news about the drug trial in Tennessee—or that’s what they’re saying. Then there’s the issue of David’s indiscretions.” Richard glanced sharply in David’s direction. “You didn’t expect them to ever forgive you for dating those strippers and porn stars, did you? I’m afraid Sandra has been quite the topic of conversation. And your father has made it abundantly clear how he feels about it, too.”

  “Well, let them take their best shot. When the time comes, we’ll meet them with an equal force, but for right now, Father comes first. I’ll deal with the rest later,” Fitzwilliam added while rapidly trying to process strategies to overcome these pressing issues.

  ~*~

  The brothers arrived at the hospital and immediately made their way to the CCU. Georgiana, together with Harvey and his sons, William and Benson, and Samantha Dashwood were already present.

  “Are you Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?” asked the CCU ward sister.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Your father is asking for you. Please come with me. He’s right this way.”

  When Fitzwilliam entered, he was startled by what he saw. Before him lay a shell of a man, not the giant he had known as his father. This man was fragile, with the look of impending death upon him. Fear gripped Fitzwilliam.

  “Fitzwilliam, you have come,” George Darcy whispered weakly.

  Fitzwilliam walked over to George’s bedside and gently took his father’s hand.