by Louise, Kara
Darcy kept his eyes ahead, but his brows lowered. “And does she… return the affection?”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Oh, I think she likes him well enough. He’s returning with us to Longbourn so they can further their acquaintance, and he can meet the rest of our esteemed family.”
Darcy pursed his lips together. His mouth went dry, and his thoughts whirled about in his head.
His reflections were interrupted by Mr. Bennet, who turned to him with his arms folded across his chest. “You asked me a question; now may I ask you one?”
Darcy raised a brow and nodded. “You may.”
With a crooked smile, Mr. Bennet scrutinized him from head to toe. “I wonder how you came to find yourself in such a dire sea of neglect.” With a wave of his hand downward he continued, “This all seems quite removed from the style of dress and exacting neatness you exhibited in Hertfordshire. Pray, what possibly could have wrought this change?”
Darcy’s cheek twitched, and he brought his hand up to rub it, his fingers getting tangled in his coarse beard. He studied Mr. Bennet’s face, wondering whether Elizabeth might have told him about his proposal and her refusal. Judging by the man’s composed deportment, he doubted she had. That made him wonder how he should answer him.
He gripped the wheel and turned to look straight ahead. “I… I found myself in a rather trying state. I was faced with some hard truths… about myself, in particular…” Darcy let his voice trail off. Shaking his head, he said, “At length, I succumbed to an excessive neglect of my person and an excessive attention to brandy. Consequently, in the condition in which I found myself, I was mistaken for Lockerly, and… you know the rest.”
“So it seems!” Mr. Bennet laughed. “I still find it difficult when I look at you to find the man we all knew in Hertfordshire.” He shook his head and put up his hand in a slight wave as he turned. “I always enjoy a good laugh, Captain, and this shall divert me for many years to come, I am certain.”
Darcy watched the man as he walked down to the main deck chuckling all the way. He let out a groan and looked down at his knuckles. They had turned white from tightly gripping the wheel. “I doubt it shall do the same for me!”
As darkness cloaked the ship, Darcy ordered the anchor to be dropped and sails to be furled. It was a moonless night so all sailing would cease. The soft flicker from candles in lanterns and the soft tossing of the ship was like a balm to Darcy’s weary soul. He decided he would remain on deck as long as possible to allow Bellows more rest.
Bellows returned to the helm a few hours later. “I’m rested an’ ready to do yer biddin’, Cap’n. I shall remain on watch through the night an’ bring us into port in the morn.”
“Thank you, Bellows. “You are a good man, and I appreciate all the help you have been to me.”
“Especially wi’ Miss Bennet?”
“No, not wi’ Miss Bennet!”
Bellows shook his head. “I saw that all the passengers but her were in the dinin’ hall enjoyin’ themselves. Mayhap she’s makin’ herself perty fer ye!”
“I think not,” Darcy replied. He let out a huff as he considered she most likely retreated to her cabin so she would not have to encounter him again. “Take the helm, Bellows. If you need me – I doubt that you will – I shall be in my cabin.”
Darcy was grateful to enter the sanctuary of his cabin where he could be alone with his thoughts. In truth, he needed sleep, but he doubted his cabin would provide it. The thought that Elizabeth was in the very next room caused his heart to beat wildly. Wondering what she must be thinking of him made him shudder.
He lit a single candle in a wall sconce, which barely illuminated the room. It flickered lazily as the ship rose and fell on small waves and it gave the cabin – in all its sinister opulence – a dreamlike feel. Unfortunately, it felt more like a nightmare than anything else.
Darcy was restless and could not sit, let alone try sleeping, so he began to pace the floor. Earlier he had removed his sword and baldric and now flung off his vest. He pulled the large white shirt from his breeches and unbuttoned it. He wished for nothing more but to toss these clothes overboard! He greatly looked forward to returning to some form of normalcy when he returned to London.
Darcy walked over to a small wall mirror. He leaned into it and studied his dim reflection as he fingered his beard. He wished his valet was on the ship and at the ready to shave it off! He touched the bruise above his eye tenderly. A scar was likely, and he knew that every time he would look upon it, it would be a painful reminder that although he would have a part of Elizabeth with him forever, he did not have her.
He collapsed into the large chair at the desk. He had hoped that in agreeing to this scheme, he would rid himself of all his feelings for her. Yet now, he seemed tied to her forever. He closed his eyes and shook his head as it fell back.
Moments later – at least he felt it was moments later, for he knew he had not fallen asleep – he felt the odd sensation of being lifted up, followed immediately by suddenly plunging down. The ship groaned and shuddered, and a thunderous crash sounded above him on deck. He jumped up, reached instinctively for his sword, and rushed out of his cabin.
*~*~*
Elizabeth had heard Mr. Darcy come to his room and pace. She had tried futilely to keep her thoughts at bay, but her mind replayed everything that had transpired the past two days. She simply could not fathom why he would have agreed to such a scheme as impersonating a pirate and why he did not choose to tell her who he was. But an even greater mystery was why she had begun to have such ardent feelings for this man. Mr. Darcy, of all people!
Perhaps she had read too many gothic novels about women kidnapped by ruthless villains who were then rescued by a handsome, gallant hero. He had certainly come to her rescue. Had she merely seen him as her gallant hero? She bit into her bottom lip as she reflected that she had always considered him handsome, just too disagreeably arrogant for her to value it.
She bunched up her pillow and turned her head. She could see beneath the door and watched with curiosity as Mr. Darcy walked back and forth in his cabin. He seemed restless. Perhaps now that she knew who he really was, he wanted nothing more than for this ordeal to be over with!
He finally stopped pacing, and Elizabeth surmised he had probably sat down. Again she tried to close her eyes and put every thought out of her mind, but she suddenly felt something odd. The ship began to rise steadily and at once came down hard. The ship moaned ominously as if it might rip apart! Something on the deck above crashed down in a deafening thud, prompting her to cover her head, thinking something – or someone – might come through the ceiling!
Elizabeth immediately jumped up, her heart pounding. Were they encountering another storm? Was the sea churning up again? Was it something worse?
She swung the door open and rushed into the partially darkened companionway, colliding with something… or someone.
“Ooh!” Elizabeth cried out, as she stumbled sideways from the collision. Hands quickly reached out to steady her and keep her from falling to the floor.
Her hands flailed about her as she was pulled upright, and they came to rest on a solid, bare chest. She was helpless to do anything about it, as the ship still jostled. In the dim light of the hallway, Elizabeth looked up into the face of Mr. Darcy. A look of shock was emblazoned on his face. She surmised hers must have looked the same when she realized the state he was in.
Darcy kept his hands on her shoulders, but stepped back slightly as she quickly drew her hands away. “Pray, forgive me, Miss Bennet.”
“I… um… the ship… we seemed to fall!”
“Yes, I was…” Darcy let go of her shoulders, and he quickly began to button his shirt, albeit in the wrong holes. As he fumbled with that task, he tried to gather his thoughts. “I was in my cabin and… I am…” Darcy took in a deep breath and shook his head. “Pray forgive my appearance. You must think me devoid of every trace of decorum!”
“No, no,” she said, grat
eful for the dim light in the companionway. She was too disconcerted to meet his gaze, but instead found her eyes riveted to his chest, and curiously, to the hairs that peeked out through the now crooked opening at the top of his shirt. She had the oddest desire to reach up and button his shirt correctly.
“Please, excuse me, Miss Bennet. I… I must see what that was!” His eyes met hers when she shyly looked up, and he paused a moment before setting off.
“Yes, of course!” she replied, hastily stepping aside. She put her hand over her heart, as he rushed past, trying futilely to quell its insistent pounding. Whether it was from the ship’s movement or the encounter with Mr. Darcy, she could not determine.
Elizabeth followed Mr. Darcy as he rushed towards the stairs, struggling to finish buttoning his shirt. He took the stairs briskly, two at a time, overtaking the passengers that had come out of the dining room to find out what had happened.
As everyone came up on deck, it was dark. Several crewmen were relighting the lanterns whose flames had been extinguished either in the ship’s abrupt descent or by the water that had washed over the ship at its forceful encounter with the sea again.
“Bellows, what happened?” Darcy shouted, taking care not to slip on the watery deck. “What caused the ship to do that? And what fell? Are the crew safe?”
Bellows looked at the captain and then to the group of passengers standing behind him. “It were jest a barrel that fell.” He then looked out to the sea. “An’ it were a rogue wave that caused the ship to rise an’ fall like it did.”
“A rogue wave?” Darcy asked. He gave his head a quick shake, and then said, “Ah, so I thought! Tell the passengers, ’ere, what a rogue wave is.”
Bellows’ brow twitched, and a slight curl formed on his lips as he turned to the passengers.
“’Tis a large wave that has come from a far-off storm or…” Bellows paused and leaned in to his listeners. With a low voice he added, “’tis a warnin’ to a ship that somethin’ bad is a comin’ its way.”
Darcy heard the gasps and looked across at the fearful faces of the passengers and some of the crew who were standing nearby.
“Bellows knows that is jest an ol’ seafarer’s tale an’ there’s no truth in it!” He shot a warning look at his first mate. “Tell ’em, Bellows, that there’s no grounds to such a tale!”
Bellows shook his head. “Well, I’ve only once ’eard of it happenin’ to a sailor I knows, and within a few hours of it, most of the whole ship had come down wi’ the plague.”
“Thank you, Bellows. That is enough!” Darcy turned to address those standing there, whose number had grown. “’Tis nothin’ but far-fetched believin’ and superstition. It was likely jest from the storm we encountered the other night. I’ll put me trust in the Sovereign Lord an’ His ways much more’n a silly wave. Now, everyone ken get back to what ye were doing.” Darcy turned to go and then stopped. “Jest be careful in case we encounter another one!”
Darcy marched away, angry at Bellows for upsetting both the passengers and the crew. He obviously had no common sense concerning what he should say and should not say.
As the crew dispersed, and the passengers returned to the dining room, conversations flew back and forth concerning what had happened and what they had just heard. Most took the words of the captain and reiterated their soundness. Mrs. Joyner, however, was certain that the wave signalled the likelihood of a gravely ominous occurrence.
As the evening wore on, there were no more rogue waves, no ominous incidents, and at length, everyone said goodnight for the evening. The ladies repaired to their cabin and settled in for a much hoped for good night’s sleep. For Elizabeth, however, a new memory of Mr. Darcy was added to all the others, and with it more confusion, more mortification, and much to her distress, more awakened longing.
Chapter 18
Elizabeth opened her eyes, surprised that she had finally fallen asleep the night before. She knew not how long she had lain awake, for in addition to the turmoil of her feelings, she had heard Mr. Darcy’s continued pacing in the adjacent room. She looked at the small window and could see the faintest early morning light coming through. Elizabeth quietly readied herself while the other ladies continued to sleep soundly. Rather than remain in the cabin, she decided to go out and see if she could find someone to prepare her some tea.
When she came into the dining hall, crewman Michael Jenkins was in there.
“Good mornin’, Miss Bennet. Ye’re awake early.”
She smiled at him, remembering Mr. Darcy’s – Captain Smith’s – similar comment at the cave. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yes, Miss. ’Tis almost six o’clock. All hands will be called to breakfast at six bells.”
“Have you been up on deck yet this morning?”
“Aye. ’Tis foggy out there.” In a soft voice he slowly added, “Hangin’ over us like a ghostly veil.”
“Ah,” she replied, smiling softly at his sombre expression. She wondered if he was worried about what Bellows said last night. “Are you just coming off your watch?”
“Oh, no, I ’ave first watch this morn. Git to swab the decks.” Jenkins seemed to suddenly remember his manners. “Would ye care for somethin’ to eat an’ drink?”
“I should like that very much. Is it possible to get some tea?”
Jenkins nodded. “I’ll git it fer ye right away.”
Elizabeth walked over to the window and looked out. She could see nothing outside but a blanket of grey. When Jenkins returned, she walked back to the table and sat down. He placed tea and a biscuit in front of her, and she thanked him.
She picked up the warm cup of tea and held it in her hands. “We certainly enjoyed your flute playing last night, Mr. Jenkins. It gave everyone such pleasure – the passengers and the crew.”
A blush covered the young man’s face. “Thank ye, Miss. I enjoy playin’ it.”
Elizabeth pinched her brows together in thought. “Tell me, Mr. Jenkins, how has sailing been under Mr… Captain Smith? What kind of a captain is he?”
“Oh, he treats us all good an’ decent. All the men ’ave a great deal of respect fer ’im. Me thinks each one of us would always want ’im… or someone like ’im… to always be over us.” The young man looked down and shuffled his feet. “It ’asn’t even been ten days since I first met ’im, but I almost consider ’im to be like me dad, if ye knows what I mean. Even when we thought ’e was a pirate, we was amazed at ’ow good ’e was to us. Now that we know ’e is not a pirate, we can understand better why he weren’t cruel and ruthless. Some of the men ’ave talked about other captains they have served under that were tyrants. Not Captain Smith.”
Elizabeth brought her cup of tea up to her lips and smiled behind it as she listened to the young man’s effusions.
The sound of bells suddenly rang out. At the sixth bell, men began to dash to and fro.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Jenkins. It has been a pleasure to speak with you.”
Jenkins nodded his head. “A greater pleasure fer me, Miss.” He gave a short bow and walked away.
Elizabeth bit her lip as she pondered the young man’s words. The dining hall was soon busy with men coming down from the main deck and others coming up from below. As she sipped the tea, she noticed her father come in.
“Good morning, Papa!” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
Mr. Bennet waved his hand through the air. “Our elite sleeping accommodations aboard the Devil’s Seamaiden consisted of a hammock in a room full of a dozen other smelly and snoring men.”
Elizabeth smiled. “The thought of getting back to Longbourn and sleeping in my own bed sounds better and better each passing moment.”
“Ah, but you, Lizzy, have such splendid accommodations. Did you not sleep well?”
Elizabeth let out a long sigh. “No, not particularly well.” A soft laugh escaped. “I slept on the floor.”
Mr. Bennet placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I knew you wou
ld allow the older ladies to sleep in the bed.”
“It was the least I could do.”
“So was Mrs. Joyner able to sleep last night after hearing about some ominous occurrence happening because of the rogue wave? I suppose she fretted about it all night.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I know it was of grave concern to her, but I think she was able to fall asleep despite it. At least I did not hear anything from her after we extinguished the candles.”
“Good.” Mr. Bennet turned to the door. “Look, it is David!” He waved his hand. “Here we are, young man!”
David cheerfully walked over to them, rubbing his injured arm. “Good morning!” He sat down next to Elizabeth. “When I woke up, I had to pinch myself to make sure I had not dreamt all that happened in the past two days!”
“It has been an adventure,” Elizabeth said softly. “How is your arm this morning?”
“Sore. But not enough to be a nuisance.”
Elizabeth smiled warmly. “I am glad. Perhaps you should have a doctor look at it when we are back in St. Mary’s, now that it will be a couple more days before we get to London.”
David placed his good hand over one of hers. “I shall, but it is nothing compared to what you went through. I am so grateful nothing happened to you.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Mr. Darcy stepped into the dining hall and looked about. His eyes settled on the three of them, and he nodded, but instead of coming over, he poured himself some coffee and quickly exited the room.
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I still find it inconceivable that Mr. Darcy, who would not look upon anyone in our neighbourhood without disdain, would have agreed to do something so completely beneath him.”
Elizabeth slowly nodded. “It is odd.”
“So our pirate adventure has had danger, intrigue, and a masquerading hero! This will certainly divert Mrs. Bennet and the girls for quite some time, eh?” Mr. Bennet said with a laugh.
Elizabeth forced a smiled. “And yourself, I would imagine,” she said, feeling somewhat disappointed that Mr. Darcy had not come over to speak with them.