by Kara Louise
Elizabeth gasped in a sharp breath as he spoke these words. She lifted her eyes to his face. He did not appear to be awake, but his words pierced through her and she felt a real sharpness of pain. She had never once considered that he might have a woman back in England waiting for him. How foolish she had been to entertain thoughts about this man, when from the start, he made it clear that their marriage would be annulled and forgotten once he returned.
She grabbed her pillow and blanket, pulling herself away with little attempt to be careful not to awaken him. Once that was accomplished, she climbed into her own bed.
She closed her eyes, her body trembling, whether from her strenuous effort to pull herself away from him or her feelings for him that were now so overpowering she was not sure how she would endure one more day. As she turned her head to the wall and closed her eyes, she felt them swell with tears and one slowly escaped down her cheek.
Darcy opened his eyes, awakening when he became aware of Elizabeth leaving his side. He looked over to her as she returned to her own bed. He was grateful to see it was Elizabeth, as he had just been suffering in a dream where his wife for the journey had been Caroline Bingley and he had the arduous task of comforting her in a storm!
Looking back at Elizabeth, he was disappointed that she left his side, but if she had remained, it would have been exceedingly difficult to maintain even a modicum of restraint. The storm outside had ceased, but another storm had taken hold in his heart.
Chapter 12
Darcy lay quietly absorbed in thought for almost an hour after Elizabeth left his side, unable to keep from thinking about this captivating lady.
A soft, hopeless moan escaped him. How did this happen? How did she do this? Was it with some sort of feminine allurement that she had set out from the beginning to entrap him?
He thought back to those months after the carriage ride when he had first met her. He had not been able to get her out of his mind. Now, he had just spent a month with her, posing as her husband, living within the close confines of their small cabin, and he was supposed to forget her when they got off this ship? He knew there was very little chance of it. She expected him to return to England and annul this marriage when he, in all truthfulness, wished to keep it intact! In a frustrated sigh that deepened into a yawn, he stretched out his arms and began to sit up.
He grimaced in pain as he had forgotten about his sore shoulder and brought up his other hand to briskly rub it. He looked over at Elizabeth, who was still sleeping soundly in her bed. She was facing the wall, so he could only see her hair flowing down her back. He sat up and leaned against his bed, keeping a watchful eye on the sleeping maiden. Due to the storm, last night they had never put up the sheet separating their two beds, and he enjoyed the sight of Elizabeth as he gazed upon her sleeping form.
As he worked out his stiff muscles, he thought of those first few nights on the ship when she had to sleep on the floor in steerage. How did she do it? He did not think he would have been able to, as he had been pampered and spoiled all his life. She was not afraid to step out of the comfort of her world, something that he personally found exceedingly difficult!
Now he was faced with stepping into a discomfort of another kind. He knew that today would demand that he address his feelings. Today, before they reached shore, he would somehow manage to convey to her his love and admiration. He felt his chest constricting and his pulse racing just at the prospect of it.
His thoughts went back to the previous night and how Elizabeth had so graciously and selflessly tended to him. From there his thoughts carried him to their lying together during the storm, and then awaking to find her nuzzled close against him.
These recollections were most pleasant indeed, but he was seriously displeased with himself. Why did he have such fierce reactions to the thought of speaking those words to her that would clearly express his sentiment and intent? Why is the mere thought of that so difficult for me? He could be articulate about a great number of subjects. He and Elizabeth shared deep, meaningful conversations. So why did the prospect of articulating his emotions leave him feeling so inadequate and vulnerable?
He longed to sit here watching her endlessly, but he knew he must get up and leave the room, as she would want to arise in privacy. With a few quick adjustments to the clothing in which he had slept, he prepared to go aloft. He knew how he had weathered the storm; now he was curious how the ship fared.
He quietly opened the door, turning back to look one last time at Elizabeth. Then he closed it behind him.
His first stop was down the long hall to the dining area. When he came upon it, he was stunned to find some windows had broken out and water had flooded the room. Some of the tables and benches had broken loose and were now in a chaotic heap. One of the crewmen advised him that the dining area would be inaccessible until they got things cleaned up and repaired.
Slowly he walked to the deck, and as he came up, he deeply breathed in the fresh air laced with the scent of a recent rain.
He could immediately tell that the storm had waged a war with the ship last night, but in his novice opinion, it appeared as though the ship had won. He noticed several of the crew mending sails and repairing broken yardarms. For the most part, the ship had endured satisfactorily. Several men were vigorously mopping down the deck, ridding it of the excessive water. He was grateful the ship had a good crew who all seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. It was good to see that firsthand. His ship was in excellent hands.
He inquired of the whereabouts of the captain and was told that he had retreated to his cabin as soon as morning broke and he was able to assess the damage. He remained on deck throughout the night and was likely getting some rest now. By the looks of the deck, it would not be a good morning to walk, as rigging, sails, and various pieces of equipment were strewn about and sailors were attempting to make amends. The topsail, gallant sail, and a few smaller sails had been unfurled and the ship was moving along nicely. Darcy inquired as to their bearings.
“We won’t be arriving in the New World today as we hoped. We got pushed too far off course last night,” answered one of the sailors. “We are currently farther south and east than where we need to be. Prob’ly be making land early in the morning if we are lucky.”
Darcy sighed. Another night aboard the ship. That gave him a little more time to formulate the words he wanted to say to Elizabeth, along with the decision whether to acknowledge his feelings today or wait until tomorrow. Darcy took in a deep breath as he contemplated what to do.
Since he could not walk easily on deck nor go into the dining area, all he could do now was return to their room. He knocked lightly and heard a soft, “Come in.”
Walking in, he found Elizabeth sitting at the dresser brushing out her hair. She had changed from the dress she had slept in, and looked surprised to see him.
Darcy felt awkward returning before she was ready, and offered an apology. “It is quite a mess up there, Elizabeth. It would be too difficult for us to attempt to walk this morning, and even the dining room is unfit for passengers until they get some work done in there.” He walked over to the small bench and sat down.
From where he sat, he could watch Elizabeth brush out her hair, but she could not see him. He watched as she slowly and repeatedly brought the brush down through her thick, dark length of hair. Having only seen it down a couple of times, but never having had the pleasure of watching her brush it, he could not take his eyes off of her. As she deftly lifted its length up and easily pinned it into a very becoming style, Darcy was mesmerized by the sight, and noticed particularly how graceful her neckline was when she lifted her hair. The urge to walk over and gently kiss it was overpowering.
As she sat there brushing out her hair, she had been doing a great deal of contemplation about this man whom she discovered last night was her “Mr. Wright.” Those two years had probably changed him in some degree, but it was most likely in her mind that he had changed. She reasoned that the greatest factor
in not recognizing him was that after she had carried about the thought of this man for months and months, even giving him a name by which to refer to him, she eventually knew she must put aside this girlish infatuation and forget about him. It was a struggle that she had a difficult time conquering, but at length, after considerable willpower and effort, she let her “Mr. Wright” go, determined to grow up and set her mind on more attainable aspirations in the area of prospective suitors.
That did not make the realization any easier. Her thoughts since awakening were mixed with the staggering recollection of his whispering the name “Caroline” as he held her in the night, and Elizabeth felt that any conversation with him today would be a struggle for her. A struggle because her heart was aching to love him and be loved by him, and because they would be arriving shortly in America and go their separate ways.
The silence between them was deafening to her ears. She struggled for anything to say. “Are we to see land shortly, do you think?” Her stomach tightened in a knot as she asked this.
“Not today, at least. The crew tells me that the storm pushed us off course. Hopefully we will reach land early tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth turned back to the mirror. The tightening and tenseness grew worse as she heard his word “hopefully.” He looked forward to moving on.
Perhaps that was what she needed. Once they had gone their separate ways it might be easier. In one way she wanted it over with. Perhaps when he was out of her sight and out of her presence, she would be able to put him out of her heart and mind. But if her former association with him was any indication, she would likely not forget him any time soon.
As Elizabeth turned her attention back to making some final adjustments with her hair, Darcy pondered again, for perhaps what was close to the hundredth time, what he should say to her, how he should say it, and when. Each time he even considered it, each time he would feel the impulse to begin, his heart would beat rapidly and he would feel a shortness of breath. He did not enjoy this feeling at all, as it was something he seldom experienced. He finally resorted to picking up his book to read, deciding he would attempt this later. He simply did not have the capacity at the moment.
As things up on deck were mopped down, cleaned up, and cleared away, people began congregating in the dining room again. Everyone needed to share their experiences from the night before, and Elizabeth found that many in steerage had been terribly frightened and exceedingly seasick. The conditions down there had been dreadfully terrifying. The savage tossing of the ship, coupled with the complete darkness and crowded conditions, produced a night most would not soon forget. She went down to see if she could help, and for her own peace of mind ended up spending most of the day down there away from Darcy.
Having a good amount of time to himself that day, Darcy put that time to use reflecting on what had been the greatest struggle of his personal life in deciding to preserve his marriage to Elizabeth. As he again began applying himself to further thought about what he would say to her, the formulation of any coherent, sensible, moving sentiment was proving to become his second greatest struggle.
There was also the underlying fear of what she would say. He would be going expressly against the conditions he had set forth and that she had agreed to. And what of this Mr. Wright? Was he someone she had an understanding with back home? The thought had gnawed at him intermittently since that night she spoke the name.
All these thoughts converged upon him. Did he even have the right to do this?
He did not think he would be able to live with himself if he did not. He would tell her tonight. The fact that the decision was made gave him a great peace. The prospect of doing it did not.
***
That evening, as anticipation again mounted that they would be drawing close to the American shore, most everyone gathered in the dining area for a final night together of conversation, reminiscing about the voyage, and a gathering of cards and games. Mr. and Mrs. Jennings pleaded with the Darcys to join them as a foursome at cards for this last night. Elizabeth looked at Darcy, who surprised her in every respect by saying he would be happy to.
The four settled into a spirited, and very competitive—at least between the two men—game of cards. Elizabeth was surprised to notice a more relaxed demeanour and openness in Darcy’s behaviour. A few times he made some humorous comments, and once he even laughed without restraint. Her heart ached in believing him to be feeling a bit more relief in that he was bound to her but one more day.
The activities in the room were lively, most everyone feeling a great sense of anticipation that the morning would bring a new life for them; a better life. An occasional strong wave that lifted the boat and sent hands scrambling to hold things down reminded them also that they had all weathered the storm together with little lasting damage.
When they were in the heat of their final round, Jennings leaned back in his chair, commented to Darcy on how well he was playing, and seemed to get a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
At length he said, “Darcy, I do believe marriage agrees with you.”
Darcy’s eyes had been glued intently on his cards, and he tensed before lifting them slowly to Jennings. He could do nothing to prevent his gaze from subsequently travelling over to Elizabeth, who was looking down at her cards with a blush that had overtaken her features.
Darcy did not respond except for a somewhat forced smile. Elizabeth made every attempt to disguise the discomfort she felt and hoped that would be the end of the conversation. It was not to be.
“But then, you have certainly found yourself a lovely wife.”
Darcy saw Elizabeth’s eyes slightly close as she took in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she still did not bring them up.
“Yes, that she is.” He said it softly, all the while keeping his eyes on Elizabeth. Darcy played a card, hoping to keep the game on track, and the hand went around.
When it came to Jennings’s turn, he began to pull up a card and then paused. “You know, Darcy, when I heard that the two of you were getting married after knowing each other for such a short amount of time, I had my doubts. I was very sceptical of whether such a marriage was prudent.” He pulled out a card from his hand and laid it on the table. “But I must confess you have proven me wrong. The two of you certainly seem well suited for each other!”
That Elizabeth could barely concentrate on the game was expected, but when she saw that Darcy had played a completely worthless card and had uncharacteristically given the trick to Jennings, she realized he was just as troubled by this line of conversation as she was. Her emotions roiled within her. She finally mustered the courage to look up at Darcy’s face, which had discomfort written all across it as well. He had been rendered silent by this man, so she decided she must speak up.
“Mr. Jennings, I believe what makes a marriage successful is when the two partners completely agree on the direction they expect the marriage to go, know what each one wants out of it, and what each one is willing to give. Fitzwilliam and I are in complete agreement about this marriage in all those aspects. Is that not correct, Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy met the look of challenge in Elizabeth’s eyes with a look of resignation in his. He had determined to enjoy Elizabeth’s presence tonight and approach her later about keeping their marriage intact. With these words, she was essentially reaffirming the arrangement they made almost a month ago.
“Yes, Elizabeth is right. We do agree totally on all those things.”
Jennings laughed. “Is it not amazing how Providence sometimes leads two people together, who are so right for each other, in the most unexpected way?” Darcy refrained from looking up, believing that if he looked at Elizabeth at this moment she would see in him all the depth of the feeling he had for her, laced with the despair at what he understood her to say.
Elizabeth was anxious to leave the table and any further conversation. With the ship reaching American soil sometime tonight and being in the dock by sunrise tomorrow, she did
not feel it within her to maintain her composure with Jennings speaking as he was.
The game finally ended and this time Jennings took the win triumphantly. Elizabeth stood up. “If you will excuse me, I think it time to pay my respects to my friends in the room and then take my leave. Mr. and Mrs. Jennings, it has been a pleasure travelling with you and I wish you all the best.”
Darcy saw the strained look on her face and stood up with her. He turned to the others. “If you will excuse me, I will accompany my wife. Good night.”
“I certainly understand!” Jennings laughed. “I was a newlywed once myself,” he looked at his wife who suddenly was the one who blushed, “and I remember how often we would be the first to leave a social gathering.” His wink to Darcy was not missed by Elizabeth, and she quickly turned and began walking from the table without waiting for Darcy.
Walking briskly to distance herself from the present conversation, Elizabeth suddenly felt Darcy’s hand tighten around her arm. She walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings, expressed her gratitude for her friendship, gave the girls each a hug, and before she was even able to say the word, “Goodbye,” Mrs. Rawlings stood up and embraced her. The two could not hold back the tears.
“If I do not see you in the morning, Lenore, may I wish you God’s blessing.”
“And I hope and pray that you and Mr. Darcy will have a wonderful life together.”
Elizabeth smiled nervously, Darcy bowed politely, and they made their way around the room to those they had come to know well, wishing them the best in the new world.
As they turned back toward the door to finally leave, Darcy again took her arm. Naturally assuming she desired to go back to their room, he began to lead her in that direction. She stopped him. “I need some fresh air, if you do not mind.”