She watched the turbaned men go by her, speaking rapidly, towing cargo to and from the ships.
She was frightened.
After everything that had happened, she was going to end up being raped and robbed and left for dead here on this dock. How could Darcy dare to say that she would make it back to England and be in any shape to go looking for a husband?
She looked one way and then the other. She supposed she should start walking, but she couldn’t even carry her trunk. It was too heavy. She would have to leave it, she supposed. But she couldn’t bring herself to walk out of sight of the ship. She was feeling something that was very akin to despair, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to keep on as if everything was normal.
Not that there was anything normal about being alone on a dock in Bombay, that was for sure.
And then, off in the distance, coming through the throng of people, she saw him.
Her heart stopped. Darcy was coming for her after all. She could see him striding forward, a determined look on his face.
She sought out his gaze, and he locked eyes with her.
Her heart began to beat again, but it was going wildly, faster and faster in excitement.
He’d changed his mind. He was going to let her stay with him on the ship after all. He cared about her too, and she had been worried about nothing. Now, everything would be okay, because as long as she was with him, how could anything be wrong?
She almost ran for him, arms out, wanting to rush into an embrace.
But she was too overcome to move, and she just stood there, feeling grateful, feeling glad, feeling relieved.
In a few moments, he was right in front of her.
She reached out her hand for him.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Miss Bennet,” he said, sounding faintly out of breath, “may I present Mr. Bedford?”
Mr. Bedford tipped his hat. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss.”
She would have noticed the other man walking with Darcy if she’d had sense of anything besides him. But she had only watched him. She hadn’t realized he wasn’t coming for her alone.
“Mr. Bedford has consented to give you passage on his ship,” said Darcy.
She let her hand drop to her side.
“Yes,” said Mr. Bedford. “This gentleman here has paid your fare back to England.”
Darcy looked annoyed. “Look, man, I told you not to bring up that any money had changed hands.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. He’s got other passengers, a husband and wife. The husband is a quite respectable tradesman, so it will all be very proper, and you won’t be uncomfortable.”
She should thank him, she supposed. He had parted with money for her, and she knew he was saving it all up for his estate. She opened her mouth to do it, but the words died on her tongue. The truth was, she was deeply disappointed. She had thought…
But why had she been so utterly stupid?
“You’ll get her trunk?” said Darcy to Mr. Bedford. “I’ll escort Miss Bennet to where she can board your ship.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Bedford, tipping his hat again. He nodded behind him, and two other men came to collect Elizabeth’s trunk. They went off together, and Mr. Bedford followed after them.
Darcy looked at her. “I wanted to say…”
She waited, still reeling from the fact that he had not chosen her. He didn’t say anything. She squared her shoulders, collecting herself. “Well, perhaps we should get to the ship, then?”
He caught her by both shoulders. “I want you to forget about me.”
She smiled bitterly. “I shall surely try, sir.”
“I think you are holding yourself back. You have some silly idea in your head that you’re not desirable and that you won’t find a husband, but it’s not true, and you’re settling on something like me, because you don’t think you could do any better, but you could. And I just want you to stop thinking that—” He let go of her, looking down at the ground. “Try to be happy, Miss Bennet. And if I’ve caused you too much pain, I sincerely apologize.”
She was still smiling, and the expression felt odd on her face, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.
He scuffed his boot against the ground.
She drew in a shaky breath, and forced her smile even wider. “The ship is this way?”
Try to be happy? Did he have any notion of how impossible it was for her to feel anything resembling that emotion?
* * *
“I’d be happy to share my maid, of course,” said Mrs. Ellsworth, a bubbly woman a few years younger than Elizabeth.
“Thank you,” mumbled Elizabeth, staring around at the cabin that was to be hers. It was quite a bit bigger than the room she had occupied for the past several months, and it even had a window and a proper bed. Yet, she still found herself feeling as if she had been dislodged from her home. This place didn’t seem nearly as welcoming as that dark onion-scented space.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” said Mrs. Ellsworth. “After all, you must be lost without one. I can’t even imagine it, the horrible ordeal you’ve been through.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth absently.
“Was it horrible? Being on a sinking ship? Watching everyone else drown? Mr. Ellsworth heard the whole story and he told me that Mr. Anglers found you clinging to the broken mast, your skirts drenched.”
“Mr. Anglers?”
“The captain of the ship that rescued you. I have got his name right, haven’t I?”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. Trust Darcy to never use his real name. So, that was the story he’d spun for her, was it? Instead of being captured by pirates, she’d been rescued from death. He certainly had cast himself as the hero. “Oh, indeed,” she said. “I always called him Captain, like the others on the ship. It wasn’t so bad. I read all the sailors Robinson Crusoe and Gulliver’s Travels.”
“You didn’t.” Mrs. Ellsworth was shocked.
“I did.” She felt morose, thinking of Patrick Horn, who she’d left stumbling over pronouncing the big words. What would the men do without her?
“You are very brave.”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mrs. Ellsworth continued. “After all, I thought that I would be the only woman on board besides Marianna, my maid, and I didn’t know what I was going to do. The only time I was on a ship was coming to India. I came to find a husband, and then I met Mr. Ellsworth, and now everything is quite lovely. But on that ship, there were lots of other women. How did you end up here?”
“Same as you,” said Elizabeth. “Only I didn’t find a husband.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Ellsworth, looking at her with pity. “I’m so sorry.”
Elizabeth shook her head. She didn’t want this woman’s pity. “I find I’m quite exhausted. I think I just want to lie down.”
“Oh, of course.” Mrs. Ellsworth stood up. “I’m sorry. Here I’ve been, going on and on.” She started for the door. “Oh, shall I send Marianna to you in an hour or so? We’re going to dress for dinner, even out here. I think it’s good to keep ourselves as civilized as possible.”
Elizabeth wanted to cry off dinner entirely, possibly forever. “I’m not sure I’ll feel up to it.”
“You must eat, Miss Bennet. If you don’t keep your strength up, you’ll never endure the journey.”
Elizabeth smiled grimly, a perverse thought crossing her brain. If she wasted away and died at sea, when Darcy found out that he’d caused the death of yet another—
She shook herself. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to die just to get back at Darcy. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She stood up. “You’re right, of course. Send her in an hour. And I’m actually feeling much better. I think it was just the change of scenery. I don’t think I will lie down, and you shouldn’t feel as if I’m chasing you out.”
“Truly?” Mrs. Ellsworth brightened.
Elizabeth smiled. “Truly.”
“We
ll, will you tell us all about being on the sinking ship?”
“Certainly,” said Elizabeth, sitting down on her bed and patting a space for Mrs. Ellsworth.
Mrs. Ellsworth sat down. “Was it dreadful?”
“It was positively dreadful. I was frightened and splashing about in the water, barely keeping my head above water, and one of the sailors was floating with the broken mast. He forced me to take it instead. He swam next to me for some time, but eventually, he tired.”
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Ellsworth’s eyes were the size of saucers.
Elizabeth found herself enjoying this. Maybe this was why Darcy did the swindling that he did. She thought she understood the allure. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Just before he let himself sink down beneath the waves, he told me of his sweetheart, a woman named Rose, who he was sure had married another man since he’d gone to sea. But he said that if I should find her in his hometown, still unwed, I should tell her to stop waiting for him.”
Mrs. Ellsworth clutched her heart. “That’s so tragic.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Very tragic indeed.” She smiled inwardly. She was going to be all right. She didn’t think that she would actually be able to forget Darcy. That was impossible. But maybe she could try to be happy. Maybe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
five years later…
Elizabeth tore furiously through the rooms at the Edmonson party, fuming to herself, wishing for the tenth time that she’d managed to convince her sister Jane’s husband, Mr. Bingley, it would be better if she stayed home with little Alice and David, her niece and nephew, instead of coming out to this stupid event.
Where the devil could that Nancy be?
Nancy Fairchild was Mr. Bingley’s ward. Her own parents had been killed in an awful fire, and then Nancy had come to live with Mr. Bingley and Jane. It was Nancy’s first season, and she was proving utterly incorrigible. When Elizabeth had arrived back in England five years ago, Nancy had only been twelve, just a sweet little girl who was eager to improve her French. But now, at seventeen, the girl was a hellion. Elizabeth was supposed to be her chaperone, supposed to keep her from getting into scrapes, but Nancy insisted on giving her the slip whenever she could.
Elizabeth had been forced to go searching for her at least three times at this party alone. Now, she was starting to get worried, because she hadn’t seen her anywhere.
Someone caught Elizabeth by the arm, stopping her movement.
Elizabeth turned on the person. “So very sorry, but I’m in a hurry, you see—” She broke off. It was her sister Jane. “Oh. Hello.”
“Oh, Lizzy, are you still chasing her?” said Jane, looking sympathetic.
“Yes, she has disappeared again,” said Elizabeth. “I don’t know what the devil has gotten into the girl. It is frightfully taxing, being always engaged in hunting her down.”
“You must let me help you.”
“Oh, no, no. This is not your problem. Nancy is under my supervision tonight. You have spent all week busy with your children. Enjoy your time out. Relax. Dance with your husband. I shall find Nancy.”
“No, Lizzy, you must let me search with you.”
“Indeed not,” said Elizabeth and started to move again, not allowing her sister to argue any longer with her. Jane had her hands full, what with running the household here in London and seeing to her children. Elizabeth helped out as she could. It had been much easier before Nancy had come out in society. Now, it was not only the children, but a very capricious young woman to look after.
The situation was what it was, however. It wasn’t the life of Elizabeth’s dreams, but she knew that things could be worse. Besides, Jane was good to her. They had always been close, and Elizabeth felt more welcome in the Bingley household than in the houses of any of her other sisters. There was no time to ponder it, anyway. She had to find Nancy and stop the girl from whatever nonsense she’d gotten in her head to do.
Only last week, she had found Nancy outside with one of the men that she had danced with, admiring the horses on his coach. When Elizabeth had scolded Nancy about it, Nancy was quick to point out that the coachman had been present, so nothing untoward would have happened. Elizabeth informed her that the coachman was not an appropriate chaperone.
The week before, she’d had to inform Nancy that she shouldn’t be pressing the entire length of her body up against her dance partners. Nancy had feigned ignorance, claiming she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.
Elizabeth tried to explain to her that she was only watching out for her for her own safety. “Men do not feel the same way about these things as we do,” she had said. “You may feel as if there is some implicit promise in his actions, but I assure you, there is not. If you are not careful, you’ll end up with a broken heart and a lack of further prospects.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any kind of promise,” Nancy had said. She hadn’t wanted to marry either of those men, apparently. Nancy claimed that she didn’t even want to get married for at least three seasons, because she wanted more time to flirt with as many men as possible. “Just because you didn’t find a husband doesn’t mean I won’t,” the girl was fond of saying.
She gave Elizabeth a headache.
Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to imagine what sort of position she was going to find Nancy in tonight. She only hoped that the girl would keep her wits about her enough to keep from getting ruined. Not only because she didn’t want that for her niece, but because Bingley and Jane trusted her, and she couldn’t bear to let them down.
Elizabeth stepped into the next room and let her gaze sweep over the place, looking to see if she could see Nancy anywhere.
There were a gaggle of girls by the piano-forte, drinking lemonade and laughing. But Nancy probably would be with a man, not a bunch of other girls.
There were several groups of older party-goers, people Nancy wouldn’t be friendly with.
There were two men over in the corner of the room, each with a glass of brandy—
She stopped short, her entire body going freezing cold and then flushing white hot.
It was him. Mr. Darcy, the man who had taken her virtue and broken her heart and shipped her back to England five years ago. He was standing across the room from her.
He looked a bit pale and skinny, and he was older, of course. She was older too. But he was there. It was him. She would know him anywhere.
She swallowed hard, and then she started for him, all thoughts of Nancy forgotten.
She walked across the room until she stood directly in front of him.
He was looking into his brandy, nodding as his companion spoke to him, and he didn’t see her.
She cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy, how are you this evening?”
His head snapped up at the sound of her voice. “Miss Bennet?” He took her in. “Or… I imagine you’ve married by now.”
She chuckled. “You always did think that was going to happen, but I had the right way of it in the end. I am still Miss Bennet.”
“How unfortunate,” he said, but he didn’t sound as if he was sorry to hear it. He was smiling at her. “You look… exactly the same.”
She blushed. “I don’t. I am much changed, I assure you. It has been nearly five years, and I am no longer a young woman.”
He tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear absently. “You are as fresh and young as spring rain.”
“And you seem to have acquired the tongue of a poet in our time apart.”
He chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s the best that I have to offer in the department of flowery speech. I shall say nothing of note for the rest of the evening. I’m quite tapped out.”
She smiled at him. “It is… so very good to see you.”
He held her gaze for several minutes, and she couldn’t help but drink him up, as if she were dying of thirst and the sight of him quenched whatever unspoken needs she had. Then, shaking himself, he turned. “I’m being frightfully rude. Miss Bennet, this is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwillia
m.”
Darcy’s companion gave her a perfunctory smile.
“Fitzwilliam, this is Miss Bennet, who I met quite some years ago.” Darcy was still grinning at her.
“Pleasure, madam,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
She bobbed. “The pleasure is mine, sir.” She turned her gaze back to Darcy. “How long have you been back in the country?”
“Not long,” said Darcy. “I am a guest of my cousin’s.” He looked around and gestured to the gaggle of girls at the piano. “Not Colonel Fitzwilliam, but my cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh, who is back there somewhere. I should be happy to introduce you, if you like.”
“Oh, that is…” Elizabeth could not stop staring at him. “It is rather good to see you.” She knew that Miss de Bourgh had recently inherited a fortune when her mother Lady Catherine de Bourgh had passed on. Miss de Bourgh was one of the most sought after women in all of London, with eligible bachelors competing for her hand in marriage.
“I am staying with Miss de Bourgh as well,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “We are both looking after her.”
Darcy smirked. “I shall leave the business of that to you, Fitzwilliam. I am not fit for such a task. Ask Miss Bennet here. I am rotten to the core.”
“Oh, yes,” said Elizabeth, smiling. “To the core.”
And then, suddenly, Anne de Bourgh was there, and there were introductions made. Anne eyed Elizabeth. “How did you meet my cousin?”
“Um…” Elizabeth tried to think of something.
“Oh, at some party of some sort, quite some time ago,” said Darcy.
“When?” said Anne. “During your gambling days?”
“It’s not important,” said Darcy.
“Well, the girls over there were saying that it was highly improper for Miss Bennet to come over and speak to the two of you. They’re convinced that you and she have never been introduced.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” said Darcy, looking annoyed.
“So, what shall I say to them? You seem so intimately acquainted, surely you remember when you met.”
“We met in India,” said Elizabeth, lifting her chin. “At the party of Mr. Renward, who works for the East India Company.”
The Dread Mr. Darcy Page 10