The whole shopping experience was a disappointment for Jane. Elizabeth chose only loose fitting pants and jackets with neutral dress shirts, and shoes without heels. Jane tried to tell her that with her exceptional figure, she should mix in a skirt or two. Maybe a little color? All met with a resounding “No.” Fitted clothes would show concealed weapons, heels would be an impediment if she needed to spring into action, and a skirt would only bring her unwanted attention. Her desire right now was to blend in and be as inconspicuous as possible.

“You are going to be the executive assistant to a man who has never needed one, Lizzy. Everyone is going to be watching you whether you like it or not.”

“True, but let them be bored to tears.” Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled with mischief. She was looking forward to this. For a few hours a day she was going to experience life as it could have been. And even though the rest of her time would be devoted to the dark and vague chaos that was her usual work, she would have those few hours of normalcy to help see her through. That and the fact that Richard would be there personally to oversee her, not some thousands of miles away, keeping tabs on her via computer and phone. And Jane. If nothing else went right, at least she will have spent these last few months with her sister before she retired into obscurity.

Dinner that evening was an intimate affair at the Bingley’s gorgeous lakeside mansion. Elizabeth was amazed with the way Jane was able to make such a large house look like a warm, welcoming home instead of the austere museum that the outer façade promised. As Caroline was out for the evening, and all pretense of formality went out with her, they decided to dine at the bar in the kitchen. Elizabeth and Charles took full advantage of the opportunity to become fast friends as Jane cooked. They all laughed at each other’s childhood stories. They shared interests and ideas. It was an overall success, and Elizabeth left that evening with warm feelings as well as leftovers.

The early morning rays met Elizabeth in her usual spot, dresser to the left, door to the right, bed in front. She rose and placed the gun once again on the dresser. Bypassing the shower, she went straight for the coffee, as she had dedicated the whole of the day to the review of Darcy’s file and preparation for tomorrow’s interview. Cup firmly in hand and phone disconnected from the outlet, she settled herself at the table and cracked open the thick file. How odd that such a small thing as a file folder could hold all there was to know of the life of one man. It held the story of his childhood upstate, of private boarding schools, European trips, the name of his first crush. His school transcripts were exceptional, but it was obvious that after the loss of his mother at the age of twelve, his cure for grief was to throw himself into his work. He graduated by age sixteen, with honors and as valedictorian of his class. Elizabeth smiled faintly. She too had graduated at sixteen, was also valedictorian of her class. Moving on through his file, she passed through his college years fairly quickly. He had met Charles during this time, been part of a well respected fraternity, and graduated with all the expected honors and accolades. At twenty-one he was just entering the family business when it all fell heavily on his shoulders with the passing of his father. This sad event also saddled him with the guardianship of his nine year old sister, Georgiana. Well, joint guardianship. Richard held the other half of that particular responsibility. And, retiring early from his career as an intelligence officer, Richard did all he could to help William through his blackest hours. Thus the forming of D and F Industries from the original Darcy, Inc. William and Richard tackled the family business head on, together. They bought and sold businesses, created new industry in struggling countries, funded charities. They were an imposing juggernaut in the business arena, with William at the helm and Richard heading security.

And so it went in a steady flow until six years ago, when Georgiana was killed in a horrible car wreck. Some mystery surrounded the whole incident. It seemed a childhood acquaintance by the name of George Wickham had been driving at the time, and had also died in the crash. But why they were together in the first place was a puzzle. Wickham had not been heard from for a couple of years, and to be found in the wreckage with a very much underage girl, family friend or not, raised some very uncomfortable questions. There was no more information about the incident in the file, but from the expansion of the business from the time of the crash until now, it was evident that William was in serious pain. He was drowning in the fury of new business he was creating. One such endeavor being the impetus for her being involved; his desire to expand into Russian soil. Obviously he had pissed off some pretty dangerous people, or Yushenkov would not be looking to ventilate William’s brain pan. But, luckily, he was oblivious to these threats right now. His whole being was thrown into contract negotiation after contract negotiation. Elizabeth was truly shocked he had not collapsed under the strain. The race was on to see who would kill him first, Yushenkov or himself. Drawing out a photograph from the mass of papers before her, she traced a finger over the outline of his face. “Hang in there, doll,” she whispered. “The cavalry‘s coming.”