What tangled web he weaved,
That muddled headed fiancé...
Lydia Rivers was not a name to reckon with. She was neither beautiful nor accomplished; yet men were drawn towards her. There was that rare attraction– that quaint elegance about her, that charmed all hearts. Whoever met her once could never forget those frank eyes which spoke the language of her heart.
And her heart? – that was the rarest of the kind – it only knew how to love. And it loved Victor Banks with all its might. Anyone who saw them together could see her feelings for him through her eyes.
They envied him for winning such a prized person. All except Timothy Dawson.
He knew that Victor was playing around with Lydia. That, there was no depth in him. Lydia was just the flavor of the season. She was young, pretty and vibrant. Naturally, he was drawn towards her.
He thought he knew her well; after all, there were thousands of girls throwing themselves at rich men. He thought Lydia was one of them. Therefore, he did not mind his friend playing with her.
But then, as he saw more of her and their interactions grew, he realized that this was not an ordinary girl. That her elegance was not learnt in a finishing school. There was a kind of dignity about her which came from refined upbringing in a cultured environment.
He was intrigued. So, he found ways and means to get closer to her. And then, the unthinkable happened! The astute, all knowing, wise man found himself falling for her. He was caught off-guard and wondered - 'Am I stupid or is she a rare gift?'
Like everything else, he was determined to find more about this girl who had broken all the walls within him and made an irreparable dent in his heart.
He had his men look into her background and was shocked at their finding. Lydia was indeed not just any girl; she was the daughter of a respected business family – M. Rivers.
"M. Rivers? Why does this name sound familiar?" Timothy wondered. He walked out of his room and found the butler in the main hall. "Max, have you seen father?"
"He is in the library."
Timothy made his way to the library. Mr. Dawson was so engrossed in the book he was reading that he did not notice when his son had entered. Timothy put the file in his hand on the big oak table and pulled out a chair and sat down. "What are you reading, father?" he said smilingly.
Mr. Dawson looked through his specs and smiled at his son, "Ah! Look who is here. When did you come home?"
"Last night. I was late and you went to bed early."
"Nice to see you, son. How's school?"
"Good." Timothy pushed the file in front of him towards his father saying, "Father, do you know M. Rivers?"
"Marvin Rivers? Of course!" – Mr. Dawson'd eyes lit up. "Have you forgotten he used to come to our house often when you were small?"
Timothy tried to recall the gentleman's face but failed. "I don't remember anything."
"Marvin was one of the founders of our company. We started this company together. But then, he sold his stake. His father's business was not doing well. They needed capital. He went back to take over the family business."
"How is he doing now?"
"He turned around the company's fortune. He was doing quite well until recently. But what about him?"
Timothy pointed to the file. Mr. Dawson opened it and read its contents. His forehead creased and he looked at his son pointedly. Timothy sighed and explained, "He has a daughter – Lydia Rivers…"
"The little girl you used to play with? Marvin's daughter – Lydia; so, that's her name." Mr. Dawson was suddenly excited.
Timothy shook his head. It was so long ago, how was he to remember? He was not one of those sentimental kinds who store memories…
"So, what about this girl? Have you met her? Did she approach him?" Mr. Dawson looked expectantly at his son.
"Father, you know Victor Banks?
"Leopold Banks' son?" Mr. Dawson looked puzzled. "What's the connection?"
Timothy nodded and said – "He is courting her…more like playing with her."
"Like father, like son – the whole family is twisted." said Mr. Dawson dismissively.
Timothy let out a sigh and looked out of the window, "I have met her dad. She is a nice girl - elegant and dignified. Reminds me of mum."
"Then, you must help her…" – the father was quick to read his son's mind.
Timothy nodded, "I want to. But I don't want a showdown."
Mr. Dawson picked up his phone and made a call. "Mark, get me information on Victor Banks. I'll give you ten minutes."
[Mark was the man they trusted the most. He was well connected and had access to all inside stories. He did most of the heavy lifting for them.]
The clock ticked lazily in the library. Both Mr. Dawson and his son waited patiently. Then, the phone rang. Mr. Dawson listened carefully; his eyebrows went up twice and his lips smirked. Timothy knew his father had found an opening. He smiled in relief.
The call ended and Mr. Dawson sighed. After careful consideration, he looked at his son and said - "Osbourn has a son-in-law – Tulliver. He is a righteous man. Get him involved. Let them sort it out amongst themselves. No need to get your hands dirty."
Timothy nodded even though he did not understand the connection. But he was not the one to question his father.
Mr. Dawson looked into the file and read the complete description. "Studying in design school. Top of the class. On Scholarship!" he looked impressed.
Timothy smiled. He too was good academically but not the best. This was one regret he had. But he was determined to make it up to his father through his work. He wanted to make his father proud of him.
Mr. Dawson shut the file and gave it back to him saying, "She is a good girl. She should be protected. I'll tell Mark to keep an eye on her. She should not be hurt."