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The momentary pause provided an opportunity for Darcy to wave to the fans who had clustered outside the gate. He never knew how they discovered where he would be every day, but somehow the word had gone out that he would be at Worldwide Studios. Most of the fans were teenage girls, but some were older women. Many carried signs telling Darcy they were his “#1 Fan” or that “You are the Greatest.” When they noticed him waving to them, high-pitched squealing ensued. One girl may have passed out.
The first couple of times Darcy had encountered this level of adoration, he had been incredulous. He wasn’t anything special. These people didn’t really know him. How could they be that excited to see him? But now he was accustomed to it. He was even grateful that these particular fans had stayed loyal despite recent events.
Darcy continued to wave and smile as Raoul pulled the car into traffic. They both knew from past experience that if the car stopped for too long, the fans would surround it; then Darcy would be trapped, and it would take forever to go anywhere.
Once they were underway, the driver lowered the glass between the back and front seats. In his fifties, with a full head of dark hair and the beginning of a paunch, Raoul had been with Darcy for nearly five years—and during that time they had developed an easy camaraderie. “So, your first day back behind the wheel didn’t go well.”
Darcy sighed. His license had been suspended for a year; driving himself that morning had felt like a taste of freedom. “The first part was just fine. It wasn’t until the end that there was any difficulty.”
Raoul’s eyebrows rose. “Sir, as you’re undoubtedly aware, most people don’t consider a trip in the car a success unless all of it is free from accidents. Ninety percent isn’t a passing grade.”
“Sarcastic bastard,” Darcy grumbled. “I don’t know why I keep you on staff.”
Raoul merely grinned. They both knew why Darcy kept him on—and paid him far more than the going rate—and being a sarcastic bastard was one reason.
“Have they looked at the car yet?” Darcy asked.
“Yes, sir.” Raoul had arranged to have the Ferrari towed to his preferred garage. “It will be two weeks at least until it’s ready.”
Darcy groaned.
“Really, sir. I took such good care of her while your license was suspended, and then on her maiden voyage—”
“I know. I don’t need a guilt trip on top of everything else today.” Darcy swiped a hand through the hair hanging over his forehead. “What should I drive in the meantime? I don’t even remember what else is in the garage.”
“Sir, if I might make a suggestion?”
“You will anyway,” Darcy muttered.
“Sorry?”
“Never mind, go ahead.” He never understood how a chauffeur who grew up in Texas could speak with the precise diction of someone from England. Had Raoul watched too much Downton Abbey?
“Perhaps for the duration of the film, I should drive you. Then when you are at your leisure, you could practice driving in more isolated locations.”
Darcy leaned back into the leather seat and considered. He wouldn’t admit it to Raoul or anyone else, but it was possible that he wasn’t the world’s greatest driver. Of course, it was just that he was out of practice. But maybe it would be safer for him and everyone around him if Darcy didn’t have to worry about that responsibility right now and just focused on his acting.
“All right,” Darcy said with a sigh. “That makes sense. Consider yourself on call until principal filming is over.”
“You fill my heart with joy, sir.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Raoul laughed, and Darcy shook his head. He knew damn well that Raoul’s use of “sir” was just another way to tweak him.
“Did anything happen at Pemberley while I was away?” Darcy asked.
“Your mother called and requested that you call her back.”
Darcy sighed. “Do you think she even remembers I have a cell phone?”
“It’s quite possible she believes she’s calling your cell phone when she uses your Pemberley line.”
Darcy snickered, but Raoul was right. His parents didn’t pay attention to details like what number to use when contacting their son. When people asked him where his parents were, Darcy always said something like, “They’re bumming around Europe. I don’t know if they’ll ever come home.” The other person always laughed because they thought Darcy was joking—which was his intention.
He really wasn’t joking, although the statement was misleading. His parents were in Europe, but not together. In fact, they avoided being in the same country if they could help it. Right now, his father was in Italy, and his mother was in…Poland, Darcy believed. They had enough money that they didn’t need to work and could enjoy themselves—and that’s what they were doing. God knows who they were doing it with.
Darcy wasn’t kidding about hoping they never came home. His parents had transferred ownership of Pemberley to him and Georgiana so they’d be free to enjoy Europe but stayed there when they were in the U.S. While they were away, he had Pemberley to himself—with no need to endure shouting matches about who stayed in which wing of the house.
