by Abbey North
She looked around, her thoughts on the matter clear. “How will we do that, Mr. Darcy? We have no food or water, or even any shade.”
He pressed his lips together bleakly. “I do not have any answers for you, Miss Bennet. I have never been in such a situation either.”
Surprisingly, her expression softened as she nodded. “Of course, Mr. Darcy. I did not mean to imply you did, or you should know all the answers. I am frustrated and frightened, I suppose.
He nodded. “As am I, Miss Bennet.”
He looked away when he realized she was starting to remove her night rail. He wondered if it was because it was hot, or if she had another purpose. It soon became obvious she was using it to drape over the unconscious woman sprawled between them.
He wanted to suggest she keep it for her own complexion instead, but he knew she would not be so selfish to do so. From what he’d observed of her, though she was completely unsuitable to be his bride, she seemed to be a compassionate woman, and she obviously cared greatly for her sister, and apparently, that care extended to strangers as well.
Why not him? It was a strange, sullen thought, and he felt ridiculous as it came to him. They had rubbed each other wrong from the start, and as the very real possibility he might be stranded alone with her until rescue sank in, his stomach heaved again. It wasn’t the rocking of the boat this time. It was a strange mix of dread and anticipation, and he clenched his hands into fists.
When he realized they might not be rescued, and this situation could last for the rest of their short lives, true nausea surged in him, and he bent over the boat to release the contents of his stomach. When he sat back, he felt weak, both physically and emotionally, though he saw only care and concern on Lizzy’s face. He still flushed with the revelation of his vulnerability, and he did his best to steer the subject away from what he’d just done. “I do hope Charles and Miss Jane made it to safety as well.”
She looked around for a moment. “So do I. We are not yet safe, but I think I see land over the horizon.” She pointed in the direction as she spoke.
He looked that way, agreeing he saw something that could be an island. The question was, could they reach it in time, especially with their oars gone? They would be at the mercy of the ocean, and there was a chance it would drift them in the right direction. If not, it could take them completely the wrong way, and they would likely starve to death or die of dehydration before encountering more land or a rescue party.
“I am certain Mr. Bingley will look out for Jane.”
He frowned. “Why are you sure they are together?” The thought left him uneasy.
She glared at him, apparently taking issue with his tone. “Why are you sure they are not, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley was beside my sister the entire time I was abovedeck, before realizing I had to get Papa’s letter.”
He shook his head. “That was a bit of foolishness.”
She glared at him. “And yet you followed me. What does that say about you, Mr. Darcy?”
“I too am a fool, Miss Bennet.” He refused to contemplate what else it might say about him, like how much the thought of losing her eviscerated him, and how he’d plunged after her in a panic, intent on saving her even though he hadn’t understood the circumstances, or what she was after.
Grudgingly, he wondered if Charles felt the same way for Miss Jane. If so, the two of them were likely together, and if that happened, he could easily envision a scenario where his friend foolishly offered for Miss Jane, despite all her shortcomings.
He was never going to be so foolish, of course. He had a firm handle on his inappropriate attraction to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and nothing would sway him from the prudence of avoiding any further entanglement with her.
3
Luck must’ve been with them, because the wind whipped up that day and pushed them closer to the island. Lizzy was hopeful they would reach it before nightfall, but it wasn’t to be. The wind stopped, and they seemed to be at a standstill again for a time, though they were gently bobbing along.
She was worried they were getting out of range of the island, and Mr. Darcy seemed equally tense. Without a light source, they could only rely on the stars and the moonlight above them, and though there was a little more moon this evening, it was still inadequate for their needs.
Lizzy shivered, cold all over again. She had the dress she’d grabbed from her trunk, using it to protect the book, but there was no way she could change. Her clothes had at least dried in the hot sunlight, but now they felt stiff and itchy, and she kept scratching discreetly.
“Whatever is the matter?” asked Mr. Darcy after a long moment, sounding impatient.
Lizzy’s scratching must be rocking the boat. “I apologize, but I itch. My clothes did not dry well.”
His tone was softer when he replied, though the darkness made it impossible to read his expression. “I can relate to that. Wool is dreadfully uncomfortable after it has gotten wet and dried in such a fashion.”
She winced in sympathy, imagining how much warmer he had been than her during the day with his wool breeches. On the other hand, they provided more warmth for him now. She shivered again, shocked when he reached out for her hand. He tugged her forward, and she said, “Whatever are you doing?”
“It seems prudent to share body heat.”
Lizzy knew she should protest, but she was dreadfully cold now that the sun had set, so she allowed him to pull her toward him, carefully navigating around the young woman who had still not regained consciousness, though she hadn’t passed away either. The poor dear was stuck in some state of limbo, and Lizzy sympathized. She and Darcy were alert, but they were also stuck in limbo. If they could reach the island, they stood a chance of survival, but if not, they would die out here.
Her throat was also scratchy, terribly so, and she longed for water. “It is terribly unfair, Mr. Darcy.” She scooched a little, leaning back against him to get more comfortable. She fit against him with odd perfection, as though his arms had been made to cradle her. She was disquieted by the thought and tried to reject it.
“Our circumstances, Miss Bennet?”
She nodded. “Those too, but I was referring to being surrounded by water, being dreadfully thirsty, and yet unable to drink.”
“I concur.” His voice sounded as hoarse as hers. “It is most unfair. Perhaps there will be fresh water on the island. If not, maybe we can figure out a way to remove some of the salinity. I read a fascinating article in a travel journal recently about a man who managed to do just that while he was on expedition.”
“You read such things?” Lizzy’s eyes widened in the darkness, finding it a difficult prospect to believe. Mr. Darcy seemed so staid and proper that she could not imagine him being the type to read about others’ adventures, let alone have one of his own.
“My sister has a fondness for such things. She is also a fan of the penny dreadfuls and the penny dramas. We often read together.”
“Oh. Then it is hardly surprising.”
He stiffened. “I feel like I am being insulted in some fashion, Miss Bennet.”
She grimaced. “I did not mean it that way, Mr. Darcy. I simply meant I am unsurprised to learn you are reading such material for your sister and not for your sake.”
“Indeed?” He sounded cool. “Who do you think introduced Miss Georgiana to the topic to start with, Miss Bennet?” His words were terse.
She squirmed slightly, which only reminded her of how tightly she was pressed against Mr. Darcy, his delicious body warmth suffusing her own to take off the chill she’d experienced for the last hour. “I apologize. I suppose I made certain assumptions. You do not seem like a man who craves adventure.”
He gave a dark chuckle. “I was quite a bit more adventurous as a young man, but I confess, I could do well without this adventure. If I did not allow Charles to persuade me into this foolishness, I would not be here.”
Lizzy relaxed further against him. “Perhaps, but I am rather glad you are, Mr. Darcy.” The
darkness must have given her courage to make the admission. “I would not like to be alone in this, and I am not confident I would have reached a lifeboat without your assistance.”
“In that case, allow me to amend my statement. I find it wretched that we are in such circumstances, but I am happy I was able to be of any assistance whatsoever.” His lips brushed against her ear when he said the words, making her shiver. “You are still cold?”
She nodded quickly, too embarrassed to admit the shiver had come from an entirely different reason. She no longer felt cold. Instead, she was burning up with a different kind of fever, one she’d never had before. Her body felt more sensitive, and there was an ache between her thighs she couldn’t explain as he shifted enough to pull her closer, turning her to face him so she was straddling his lap.
She was abruptly aware of the bulge there, and she quickly slammed her eyes shut and leaned against his chest, pretending she was desperate for sleep. Instead, she was desperate to pretend the situation wasn’t occurring. Mr. Darcy seemed to be aroused for her, and though she told herself that was likely just a normal physical response, and any man would react the same to any young woman on his lap, there was a part of her thrilled with the idea.
The reality of her situation soon washed away any excitement from the illicit embrace. Lizzy was daring and curious, but realizing she might die at any moment, or that the ocean could sweep them away from the island before they got close enough to swim for it, had a dampening effect on even the most ardent libido.
She clung to him, trembling this time from fear rather than anything else as his arms held her securely. As afraid as she was, she was certain she would’ve been ten times more terrified if Mr. Darcy hadn’t been there to offer comfort in the moment.
4
Fitzwilliam woke with the first light of dawn, and when he looked down, he found Lizzy still sprawled across his lap, sleeping against him. His gaze moved to the woman who shared the space with them, and he was certain she had passed. Her skin was pale, and when he reached forward, it was waxy and cool to the touch. He let out a sigh of regret at the loss life before turning his attention to Lizzy. “Miss Bennet, you need to wake now.”
Her eyes opened slowly, and she smiled up at him with warmth that made his stomach curl in a delightful fashion. Only heavier matters distracted him from the urge to bend his head and kiss her. “Our fellow survivor is no more.”
Sleep cleared from her eyes, and she blinked as she moved back abruptly, obviously realizing she’d fallen asleep in his arms and remained there for the night. If she was embarrassed, she didn’t reveal it when she focused her attention on the young woman. They looked through her things, but unlike for poor Mr. Pennyworth, they found no identification. She was wearing a simple cross with an inscription on the back that read: “Eternally yours, N.” Lizzy removed it from her and placed it in her bag, hoping it might help identify the woman at some point.
She seemed to refuse the idea they might not be rescued, and Fitzwilliam tried not to dwell on it, since the island was tantalizingly close now. It was still too far away for him to feel comfortable trying to swim for it, but if the boat seemed like it would take them the wrong direction, and they couldn’t overcome the ocean currents, he was confident that within a few hours, they would be close enough to make the attempt safe. There was reassurance in that, as long as the boat stayed the course for those remaining hours.
Together, they lifted the woman’s body over the side of the boat, once more saying a prayer for her. Lizzy seemed to be in a dark mood. “If you outlive me, Mr. Darcy, please do not say the Lord’s prayer when you drop me into the ocean. I do not find comfort in it. It is a stark reminder of what trials and tribulations one might face before reaching the next life.”
His lips firmed. “I shall not recite the prayer, and you shall never be in that position. You are going to survive this, Lizzy. We both are.”
She blinked. “You have used my first name.”
He flushed. “I apologize. I was impassioned by the moment.”
She smiled. “It seems rather ridiculous to be worried about such things, does it not, Mr. Darcy?”
He shrugged. “At the moment, it does. You may call me by my first name if you would like, Miss Elizabeth?”
She smiled. “Lizzy is fine, Mr. Darcy, but I do not know your first name.”
He laughed, a startled sound that made her jump in reaction. “No, I do not suppose you do. Charles fondly calls me Darcy, as do many of my acquaintances. Perhaps it is because they know I do not like my first name as well.”
She tipped her head slightly. “Now you have me dreadfully curious, Mr. Darcy. Whatever is it?”
His lips twitched, enjoying her amusement and the way it distracted her from reality. “Perhaps I shall make you guess, Lizzy.”
She tipped her head. “That is a fine idea, Mr. Darcy. It will surely occupy the time until we are close enough to the island to swim for it.”
He frowned slightly, realizing she wasn’t as distracted as he’d hoped. Of course, she wasn’t. She was an intelligent woman, and she recognized the peril of their situation, even if she was willing to indulge in a light bit of play to divert them from that. “What is your best guess?”
“Bartholomew.”
He grimaced, finding that name even more objectionable than his own. “Decidedly not.”
“Horatio?”
He shook his head. “My father had a dear friend named Horatio, who was a giant bear of a man. He did enjoy his sporting and drink, much to his detriment. He combined the two one day. He was quite inebriated when he went out hunting for grouse and stumbled off a cliff.”
She winced. “How horrible.”
“Indeed. That is not my name though.”
“James?” He shook his head. “William?”
He grinned. “You are close. Perhaps a clue?” At her eager nod, he said, “It starts with an F.”
She frowned. “I am afraid I can think of no name that starts with F and contains William.”
He grimaced. “Indeed, and that is part of the reason I so dislike the name. It is too unusual. The cursed moniker is Fitzwilliam, though my close acquaintances often call me Darcy, and my sister calls me Will.”
Lizzy nodded. “I see. Which would you prefer I use, Mr. Darcy?”
There was a lump in his throat as he imagined her saying the diminutive his sister always used for him. Georgiana spoke it with a caring note, and he wondered how it would sound coming from Lizzy in such a fashion. “Will shall do fine, Lizzy.”
“Very well, Will.” She smiled at him. “How much longer do you think it will be before we can swim for the island if the boat isn’t going to take us there?”
He looked at the sky and then at the island. “I do not know, but hopefully only a few hours. It would be better if we can keep the boat, but if not, I think we will soon be within a safe distance to swim.”
They were unable to keep the boat in the end. The wind whipped up and started pulling them the other direction, so together, they jumped into the ocean and swam. He admired how strong a swimmer Lizzy was as they reached the island thirty minutes later, both breathing heavily before collapsing onto the wet sand. He glanced over at her, waiting until he could catch a breath before he said, “I am surprised how well you swim. Most ladies of my acquaintance do not possess such a skill.”
Her lips twitched, though she was still obviously trying to get a deep breath. “I have no doubt the ladies of your acquaintance are quite accomplished in different tasks, including drawing, modern languages, and all the rules of decorum and etiquette.” Said like that, it managed to sound almost insulting.
He shrugged. “Perhaps, but swimming is certainly not among them.”
She smiled. “Growing up in the country has many advantages, including our own spring. My sisters and I spent many summers in the water before Mama deemed us too old for such things.”
His lips twitched. “Even after your mother forbade you, you s
till swam upon occasion?”
She seemed unrepentant as she rolled onto her side to face him. “I swam every chance I got, Will. It is something I truly enjoy, and I have not a bit of regret for defying her, since it likely saved my life.”
He nodded, leaving it unspoken that it might’ve saved his as well. He never would have left her behind, but trying to tow her with him across the distance might’ve been enough to leave them both drowning before they could ever reach land.
Sometime later, the water started to wash over them, and it roused Fitzwilliam enough to sit up. He looked at Lizzy, who was doing the same. “I suppose we should see what is available to us, and how we can survive on this place.
She nodded, licking her dry lips. “I hope there is water.”
“If you would like to make yourself comfortable in the shade, I shall search for it.”
“I can come with you.”
He waved a hand. “You should rest.” No doubt, as a lady, she’d exceeded her strength by vast margins. Even Fitzwilliam was feeling depleted, but it was his duty as the man to look after her and ensure she had water if he could find it.
Fitzwilliam moved into the interior of the island, unsurprised to find a wild jungle. He heard animals ahead of him, though they fell silent each time he approached, likely sensing an interloper in their midst and wanted to hide their presence. He felt similarly, hoping any life on the island was small and shy, wishing to stay away from them rather than be aggressive. Without even a weapon, an animal attacking was a frightening prospect.
Though his energy was flagging, Darcy pushed on, walking until he found a freshwater source a couple of kilometers later. There were no animals around, and the water looked clean and cool. He could clearly see the stones in the shallow end. He had no container with which to retrieve it, so he looked around before finding a section of bark he thought might hold enough to be worth the trip back. He quenched his thirst and washed the vessel as thoroughly as he could before filling it with water. Holding it carefully, he slowly returned to where he’d left Lizzy on the beach.