President Darcy

“But you can’t share it with anybody else,” George said. “The story is rather…”—he swallowed hard—“personal.”

Elizabeth felt a sudden rush of sympathy. George might be overly dramatic in his presentation of the facts, but the memories seemed to genuinely pain him. “Of course, we won’t say anything,” she promised gently.

“Thank you,” George said.

“We’re trustworthy,” Lydia added.

George patted Lydia’s hand. “You’re a very kind soul.” Lydia beamed.

He led them into a more secluded part of the garden. “We can’t let anyone overhear.”

George perched himself on a boulder while Lydia and Elizabeth took seats on an opposite bench. He lowered his voice. “Will and I practically grew up together. My father was the chief operating officer of his father’s business. We played together as kids, went to the same school, had double dates.” George stared out into space, lost in the memories. “But then Darcy Industries went into a slump. My father was fired and lost everything. Somehow Mr. Darcy managed to hold on to most of his wealth and rebound.” George’s smile twisted bitterly. “My father always thought he paid off some people at the Securities and Exchange Commission.”

Elizabeth gasped. That would be a federal crime.

“My father died a broken and disillusioned man. However, when Mr. Darcy died seven years ago, I found out that he had left me a hundred thousand dollars in his will. I think he was trying to make amends to my family.”

Lydia was hanging on every word. “Yay!” She clapped her hands in glee.

George’s lip curled. “Will wouldn’t give it to me.”

Wow, this was worse than anything Elizabeth could have imagined, completely unbalancing her. She knew the president could be cold and abrupt and proud, but…

“Did you ask him for it?” Lydia asked.

George gave a harsh laugh. “Of course. But by then he had destroyed the original will, and he denied that it ever contained such a provision.”

Elizabeth’s hand flew up to her mouth. “How horrible! Can’t you sue him?”

“I could, but he warned me that I’d be going up against the best lawyers money could buy, and my legal fees could easily eat up any money I won as part of the case.”

What a shabby way to treat a childhood friend! Now Elizabeth regretted acquiescing—even grudgingly—to dance with the president. I should have stepped on his feet. “B-But you deserve that money! It’s yours.”

“Yeah.” George looked down at his hands. “But I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished on my own. I’ve bootstrapped myself to where I am through hard work in my uncle’s company.”

Lydia’s eyes were shining. “That’s so admirable.”

He gave her a brief smile. “My mother says adversity builds strength of character.”

Elizabeth was still trying to wrap her mind around the depths of the president’s treachery. Why does it bother me so much? I knew he was a jerk and we’d never be buddies. “Have you ever considered going to the press about it?” she asked.

“Sure.” He shoved his hands into

his pockets. “But we belong to opposing parties, and the press loves Will. They’d just think I was making it up, and I don’t have a shred of proof.”

Lydia made a sympathetic noise, dabbing her eye with a tissue.

George looked up at the moon, the cool light illuminating his fine features. “If I spoke out now, it would only hurt the country.”

“How good you are…to put the needs of the country ahead of yours.” Lydia sighed.

He shrugged. “I can only pray that Will is behaving just as admirably. He’s very good about looking like a boy scout, but he’s ruthless when he wants to be. I worry…what’s actually happening at the White House that we’ll find out later?”

Elizabeth shivered. She had never thought President Darcy as bad as all that! Such a lack of honor could be devastating for the country, particularly after his predecessor’s egregious behavior.

George slid off the boulder. “He is doing some good things for the country, but someday the country will see the real William Darcy. I just have to wait.” His gaze landed on Elizabeth. “I saw you dancing with him and wanted to warn you.” He crept a little closer to her. “I wouldn’t want you to fall into his trap.” He held her eyes. “You seem like a nice girl, and he’s good-looking, powerful, rich. But he’s bad news.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Thank you. A warning is quite unnecessary. I don’t know why he asked me to dance, but he doesn’t really like me. And I’m certainly not establishing a Washington, D.C. chapter of the William Darcy fan club anytime soon.”