My BFF by Ruth Phillips Oakland

Author:Ruth Phillips Oakland [Oakland, Ruth Phillips]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Austenesque
ISBN: 9781936009015
Amazon: B0046ZRIMS
Barnesnoble: B0046ZRIMS
Goodreads: 6606061
Publisher: Meryton Press
Published: 2009-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning Elizabeth awoke suddenly, completely disoriented, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Reaching about blindly to determine how, where and when; her dazed mind finally concluded that the phone was ringing.

“What?” she said into the receiver in a startled voice. After Jane and Charles had left the previous evening, Elizabeth found sleep evasive, not drifting off until after 4 a.m. The phone had interrupted what must have been a very sound sleep. She glanced at her clock to see 5:30 a.m. shining in bright blue numbers.

“Dr. Bennet, this is Tony at the security desk. I’m sorry to wake you but there are two agents demanding to see you immediately.”

Her confused mind was trying to decipher what Tony was saying. Agents, 5:30 a.m., immediately. None of it made sense and as the blood continued to pump at a maddening pace through her ears, all she could croak out was another astonished, “What?”

“There’s an Agent Robert Martin from the FBI and an Agent Harriet Smith from the British Secret Service standing at my window. They insist that it’s important they speak to you right now. Shall I send them up?”

Somehow this additional information only triggered more questions. The FBI wouldn’t show up if someone had been in an accident and the British Secret Service… Wait a minute… What has Frannie done now? “Will they tell you what it’s regarding?”

There was a moment before Tony’s voice responded, “They will only say it is a matter of international security.”

Finally Elizabeth’s heart had slowed down enough for her to think more clearly. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed, and then send them up.”

Rapidly Elizabeth pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, brushed her hair and swept it up into a messy bun, and then managed to wash her face and start a pot of coffee before there was a knock at the door.

Two agents entered the co-up, both holding identification badges. “Miss Bennet,” the one called Martin addressed her tersely, “We would like to speak to Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“Then I suggest you look for him at his home,” she replied.

“We thought he might be with you,” the one named Smith suggested politely.

“The security guard downstairs could have confirmed for you that Mr. Darcy is not here. What’s this about?”

Ignoring her last question, Martin asked earnestly, “Do you know where Mr. Darcy is at this moment?”

“I imagine he is at his home on Lansing Street, most likely fast…”

“We have just come from Mr. Darcy’s home,” Martin interrupted again, “He left it at approximately 3 a.m. this morning. He is not answering his mobile phone. Do you know where he’s gone?”

“He may have gone to the Manhattan Fencing Club. Did you ask his cousin, Geoffrey Fitzwilliam?”

Smith gave her irritated associate a warning glance before calmly replying, “Mr. Fitzwilliam accompanied Mr. Darcy to where ever it is he has gone.”

“Did you ask Mr. Darcy’s bodyguards or his driver?”

Martin stood and approached Elizabeth in frustration. “You expect us to believe that your boyfriend left

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