by Kara Louise
The captain firmly placed his hands behind his back, tilted his head down, and began pacing around the room. “And Darcy, what is in this for you?” His question sounded grave.
“Captain, I swear upon my dead father’s grave that I have no ulterior motive. I give you my word that I will not lay a hand on her. You know, sir, that I do not give my word unless I am willing to keep it. She gets the chance to improve her situation while onboard this ship, and I…”
The captain looked up. “And you?”
Darcy felt somewhat sheepish now, but confided to the captain, “Being married will bring a stop to all the ladies on this ship who have been plaguing me with their unwanted attention!”
The captain forced a laugh, feeling very little humour in the situation. “Your dilemma is heavy indeed. And what is to happen after the voyage, Darcy? Are you determined to go through life married to a woman you do not love, whom you have vowed you will never touch?”
“My plan is to have it annulled once I return to England.”
The captain stopped pacing and turned to look at Darcy. “Are you now?” He rubbed his chin vigorously as he wondered whether this was truly an act of compassion on his part. “And what do you really know of Miss Bennet? How do you know she will not come after you for your money once she is legally married to you, even attempt to stop the annulment?”
Darcy looked at the captain. “I do not believe she would.”
“Neither do I,” admitted the captain. “But I still do not like this. I assume you have spoken to her on this subject?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And she is willing to marry you solely for propriety’s sake so that she can avail herself of the empty bed in your cabin only to have this holy union later annulled?”
“Yes, she is willing if you agree to perform the ceremony.” His hand clenched in reaction to this minor stretching of the truth a bit, something he disliked doing immensely.
“Again, Darcy, I ask, is this request of yours being made as a passenger or as the owner of this ship? As the man whose ultimate authority I am under?”
“Whichever it takes to get you to agree.”
The captain went back to his desk and sat down. “When do you wish to have this ceremony performed?”
Darcy let out a breath as he realized the captain was leaning toward agreeing, however sceptical of it he was. “As soon as possible. What do I need to do?”
The captain opened his desk drawer and pulled out some papers. “Fill these out. You both need to sign them, and then bring them to me when you return with Miss Bennet. We can begin as soon as you like.”
Darcy grabbed the papers. “Thank you, Captain. She is waiting in the dining area. I shall return with her promptly.”
The captain only nodded, as he could scarcely believe what had just transpired in his cabin, let alone understand it. He wondered what had ever prompted him to agree to perform such a ceremony, and what had ever gotten into the Master of Pemberley even to conceive of such a course of action!
***
When Darcy returned to the dining area, he found Elizabeth making a concerted effort to talk with some passengers who had gathered around her, inquiring about her ankle and her illness. She still looked tired, and he hoped the other passengers were not causing her too much exertion. As she turned her head and saw Darcy walk in, her heart made a barely noticeable leap, especially when she saw the papers he carried in his hand.
Darcy walked toward her and apologized to those she was conversing with, asking that they forgive him, but he needed to speak with Miss Bennet alone. They gave Elizabeth some reassurances about her health before leaving, turned a curious eye to Darcy, and then departed.
Darcy took a seat across from her. “The captain has said all that is required is for us to sign these.”
Elizabeth took in a slight gasp of air and felt her body shudder as he spoke the words she had assumed she would not hear. Obviously the captain was willing to perform the wedding! She could not look at him, but looked down, eyeing the very formal-looking papers that he spread out in front of her. Words refused to come, and she could not formulate one thought to press her argument against doing this.
Darcy had secured a pen and some ink, and pushed them toward Elizabeth. “The captain is willing to do this, Miss Bennet.”
She looked up at him with weariness flooding her surprised eyes. “As are you?”
He nodded. “It will benefit us both, but primarily yourself.”
“And you will have it annulled once you return to England?”
“Your family and friends need never know. And you will certainly never see any of the other passengers on this ship again, as they will be staying in America. As far as they know, we fell in love on the ship and decided to marry.”
“We hardly have looked like a couple in love, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy cocked his head. “Who is to say what love looks like, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth looked up and met his gaze. She felt as though she was simply entering a business transaction with someone, and yet there was something in his eyes now that had not been there before. She also felt there was a stronger beating of her own heart that she could not ascribe to anything. She took another deep breath as she pondered this man. She wondered if he had ever been in love. Had there ever been a woman who lived up to his impeccable standards?
Darcy’s attention was directed toward the papers. “You sign here.” He gently nudged the pen into her hand while she studied the paper. She looked up at him one last time before signing “Elizabeth Julianne Bennet” and “Hertfordshire” for residence. She slowly pushed the papers toward Darcy.
“Now what?”
Darcy signed his name. “Now we go to the captain.”
“You mean we are to do this at once?” A sense of panic began to rise up within her.
Darcy nodded. “Tonight, Miss Bennet, for the first time on this ship, you will get a good night’s sleep.”
He stood up, came around, and picked her up again. “Shall we go to our wedding?” A reassuring smile swept across his face but quickly disappeared as he looked at the concern on Elizabeth’s.
As he picked her up, he was even more aware of how weak she was, and suddenly wondered if she would look back on this with regret when her mind was free from the effects of the fever. Would she harbour resentment against him for pressing her for a decision when she was feeling so poorly?
When he picked her up and began to carry her, her heart pounded even more fiercely. She was not sure whether the warmth she felt was a result of fever or being held so securely by him. But she knew it was not the fever, but the feel of his arms around her that prevented any rational thought or objection to this course of action to penetrate her mind.
***
The captain was still in his room when Darcy arrived carrying Elizabeth. He was surprised, yet not, to see him return so promptly. He had always known Darcy to be a man to accomplish quickly what he set his mind to do. Usually it was based on sound reason and judgment. He believed his reasoning on this particular occasion was based on something other than rational thinking. Perhaps it was emotion, but that was something which he rarely saw in Darcy, who prided himself on always remaining in control. Although Darcy was trying to appear level-headed, there was something else that was prompting this decision, and Wendell could not quite place what it was.
Could it be love? He could not determine it one way or another, but for some reason, he chose not to fight Darcy about his determination to pursue this course of action. Perhaps it was his own fondness for Miss Bennet and the fact that he saw something between the two of them that neither of them had yet realized was there.
“Darcy, come in. Good day, Miss Bennet. I understand you have not been feeling well and that you turned your ankle today.”
“Yes, Captain, but it is nothing. It shall be back to normal in no time,” she replied weakly.
The captain motioned for them to sit down. Darcy placed Elizabet
h in the chair and he stood behind her.
“Miss Bennet, I understand that Mr. Darcy has made a rather peculiar request in this offer of marriage to you.”
“Yes, sir. I realize it must appear odd, but I think we are both of like minds that it will benefit us to pursue this course of action.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows as he heard Elizabeth’s words, which now sounded very much in favour of proceeding with the marriage. Elizabeth, herself, was surprised at how easily they flowed out of her mouth.
“Hmmm,” murmured the captain. “I would wish you to take under advisement to consider all the ramifications of such a marriage before I proceed.”
“I have, sir,” Elizabeth said softly.
“As have I, Captain,” added Darcy quickly.
“Well, then. Let us proceed.” The captain rang a bell and his first mate entered. “Webber, here, shall be witness. Normally I have the bride and groom stand, but in your case, Miss Bennet, seeing as how you are quite unwell, I shall allow you to remain seated.”
The captain looked up at Darcy and raised his eyebrows, as if giving him one last chance to change his mind.
“You may proceed, Captain.”
“Do you have any kind of a ring?”
Darcy suddenly frowned, not having thought of it.
Elizabeth lifted up her hand. “I have this ring I usually wear on my other hand. We can use it.”
She took it off her one finger and handed it to Darcy, who looked down and saw a small ruby stone set in a gold band. He held it in his hand until it was time to place it on her wedding ring finger.
The ceremony was simple. The vows were spoken with little attempt to disguise the fact that they were going to be nullified once Darcy returned to England. When they were pronounced husband and wife, Darcy simply reached for Elizabeth’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.
“Congratulations. You are now married.” The lack of enthusiasm in the captain’s voice was recognized by all in the room, and Elizabeth swallowed hard as she contemplated what this would now mean.
The captain excused the first mate, and the three were left with feelings of awkwardness. “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth.
The captain looked at the two of them. “If this were a real marriage, you would not have to ask me that question. As it is, we must get word out before rumours begin circulating, especially if you return to his room now. I suggest we make an announcement to those in the dining area later this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Darcy shook his hand but felt a twinge of guilt that he had pressured the captain into doing something that had gone against his conscience because Darcy owned this ship. He was not proud of the fact and hoped Elizabeth would not find out.
“What about my things?” asked Elizabeth weakly.
“I could send someone to collect them,” Darcy offered.
“I should like to retrieve them myself, if you do not mind. I should like to tell Mrs. Rawlings and her daughters myself… about our… our… marriage.”
“I shall take you down after you have had some rest and a good meal.”
“Very good. I have done all that I needed to do,” the captain said austerely. “I shall see you both later.”
Darcy picked Elizabeth up and walked out the door. Elizabeth hoped that no one would see her being carried to his room, and she was grateful when they were able to make it there and inside without encountering anyone. It helped that Darcy’s room and the captain’s were up toward the front of the ship away from most of the other rooms. She felt awkward this time, being carried into his room and hearing the reverberating sound as the door closed behind them.
He set her down on the bench again, inquiring how she was feeling.
“Tired. I think I should like to sleep, if I may.”
Darcy nodded. “I have done some thinking about the arrangements in here. I will hang up a sheet across your bed so you can have some privacy and separation from my side of the room at night. Of course we will remove it during the day so if anyone notices it, they will not become suspicious as to why it is there.”
“That is very considerate of you, sir.”
“It is nothing, Miss Benn…”
Darcy stopped and looked at Elizabeth. “I cannot call you Miss Bennet now, can I?”
Elizabeth looked down; neither of them had contemplated this.
“What would you have me call you: Mrs. Darcy or Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth flinched slightly as she pondered what each would mean. Mrs. Darcy sounded so official, so legal, and so wifely. Yet Elizabeth sounded so intimate, so familiar. Her hand was nervously drawn to the small necklace she wore around her neck as she pondered an answer. She fingered it momentarily and finally answered, “Elizabeth, please.”
“Very well, Elizabeth.” He walked over and easily picked her up, carrying her over to her bed and placing her upon it. Exhausted from fatigue and illness, Elizabeth practically fell across the bed, laying her head upon the pillow and bringing her legs up on the thick, soft bed.
For a few moments Darcy let his eyes rest upon her pleasant, reclining figure before sternly admonishing himself about what that kind of indulgence might lead to. Without allowing his eyes to linger any longer, he reached for the coverlet and pulled it up over her. He suddenly realized how difficult this arrangement might end up being for him.
“I shall leave you to rest now.” His words were spoken most reluctantly.
As she heard him walk slowly toward the door and open it, she opened her eyes and quietly asked, “And what shall you have me call you?”
Darcy stopped in his movement and turned back to her. “My given name is Fitzwilliam, but I should prefer that you call me William.”
Elizabeth nodded as he turned to leave.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” He looked back at her, shook his head, and walked out. She closed her eyes, plumping up the pillow underneath her head, and fell into a deep sleep that she had not had the pleasure of having for almost a week now.
Chapter 8
When Darcy returned somewhat later, he was not surprised to find Elizabeth in a sound sleep. Not wanting to disturb her, fully aware that she needed as much rest as she could get, he quietly laid out the tea and an assorted array of foods that he had secured from the captain’s private supply. At times like this, there was an advantage to being the ship’s owner, and he did not have to twist the captain’s arm too severely to get what he desired.
He turned toward her and stood silently observing her, intrigued by the calm demeanour that had spread over her face in sleep, captivated by the few long, dark tresses that had escaped from her pinned-up hair, but greatly disturbed about the pallor that was taking hold of her features. He fought the temptation to reach over and gently run his fingers through her hair or stroke her cheek, compelling himself to turn away instead. He could not allow himself the liberty to dwell on things that could not be.
Sitting down on the bench at the table in his room, he absently picked up the book he had been reading. He opened it to the page he was on, but found his attention reverting back to the sleeping form in the bed on the other side of the room. He had always found time to read, enjoyed reading, and looked for any excuse to read, but at the moment he was easily finding a justification not to read.
He finally gave up and closed the book, setting his mind to trying to recall more about the carriage ride two years ago and the young lady who shared it with him. While he was fairly certain it was her, he tried to think of other things he remembered about her from that day.
Vigorously rubbing his chin, as though that would help facilitate his memory, he did vividly recall that he had been impressed with her knowledge of the books she had read and they had shared a lively discussion about many of them. He remembered afterwards crediting her as being an accomplished woman who sought the improvement of her mind by extensive reading. She had been willing to express a difference of opinion and even argue with him about some aspects of literatur
e and his opinion of them. That was certainly descriptive of the lady asleep in his room.
He furrowed his brow as he tried to recall any part of the conversation they shared. What else could there have been that would enlighten him as to whether or not it was her? He recollected that she had dark, sparkling, fine eyes, as did Elizabeth. She had sprained her ankle falling from a tree that she had climbed… she had to walk home injured… she loved walking! Yes, that would be true of Elizabeth.
Suddenly he remembered a vague discussion they had about horses. She had told him that she preferred walking to riding a horse and sometimes even to riding in a carriage. Darcy smiled. That should be easy enough to discover without raising suspicion. He would wait for the right opportunity and then work it into his conversation. If he found that to be true of Elizabeth, he would be certain it was her!
Darcy stood up and walked over to the small port window. He looked out at the vast sea that surrounded them and realized that it had been days since his thoughts had turned to Georgiana and the sole reason for his coming on this voyage. He had boarded this ship with her retrieval being first and foremost on his mind, and having to cross the ocean to fetch her was something that had originally caused him great consternation.
He had come aboard with a very poor disposition, to the point of being irritated with his fellow passengers even before becoming acquainted with them. He felt anger toward Mrs. Annesley and his cousin Fitzwilliam for their persistent and persuasive arguments to allow Georgiana to go to America in the first place. He had not looked forward one bit to the crossing and had it settled in his mind from the first that he would not enjoy the voyage at all.
