Darcy's Voyage: A tale of uncharted love on the open seas

by Kara Louise

  After the service, Elizabeth desired some time by herself in their room. Darcy obliged her request and spent most of the day in the dining area where people had gathered and much of the conversation was about Mrs. Trimble. There was also much praise for Elizabeth, which he received graciously.

  Feeling a little better but not yet ready to venture out and visit, Elizabeth pulled out the needlework sampler she had begun earlier in the voyage. She felt the healing effect of each embroidery stitch as a few flowers and words appeared by her own doing. She was working on it when Darcy returned.

  He sat down, wishing there was something he could do to engage her spirits. He never knew what to do when Georgiana was feeling down, and he felt the same awkwardness with Elizabeth. He nervously tapped his fingers on the table, bringing a smile to Elizabeth.

  “Mr. Darcy, you do not need to stay here with me. I am feeling improved.”

  Feeling a sense of disappointment that she still chose to address him with such formality, he responded, “I do not mind being here with you, as long as you do not mind.” He sat down across the table from her.

  Elizabeth looked at him and saw a tenderness she had never before seen. “Thank you.” She wondered at his behaviour at times. She had to remind herself continually that their marriage was a pretence, but there were times when her husband played the caring, concerned, even loving husband all too well. It was those times when his behaviour had her most confused.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “It just seemed so sudden, so definite.” She put her needlework down and looked up at him. “It is not that Mrs. Trimble was really that close to me, but that I had been seeing her almost every day for some time now. I have never had anyone close to me die before. At least that I can remember.”

  “You are fortunate. I have lost both my mother and my father.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened at this personal disclosure. “I am so sorry.” She was surprised that he had not mentioned that fact before, and she impulsively reached out her hand to place it on his in a comforting gesture. When he looked down upon it resting on his hand, she hesitantly pulled it back.

  “So it is just you and your sister?” she managed to ask, nervously tightening her withdrawing hand into a fist.

  “And a few odd relatives.” He looked back at her hand, almost willing it to return atop of his.

  Elizabeth laughed. “I have a few odd relatives myself.”

  Darcy smiled, grateful that she was not so despondent that she could not laugh. Elizabeth was suddenly struck by how attractive he was when he smiled. She mused to herself that she would like to see him smile more often.

  Then Darcy said something quite unusual. “I have one cousin, a younger cousin, who actually prefers walking to riding. Can you imagine?” He seemed intent to watch her, waiting for her response.

  “I most certainly can! I prefer that myself!”

  Darcy’s heart leaped as Elizabeth continued. “I actually have never felt safe around horses. I merely try to keep my distance if I can.”

  She laughed as she wondered why he would consider this an odd trait, and continued, “And Mr. Darcy, if this is the extreme of your odd relatives, I would gladly trade any of my odd relatives for yours!”

  He was drawn to her fine eyes when she laughed and felt himself becoming more and more lost in the depths of them. It was especially difficult now, being fairly confident that Elizabeth was the one in the carriage who so briefly captured his heart two years prior.

  With this confirming revelation and the amount of time he had spent with Elizabeth, he found it difficult to hold firmly to his resolve to keep his distance emotionally from her. He began to wonder whether it was prudent to remain in the room with her.

  Elizabeth expected Darcy to make a retort about her fear of horses, but he remained silent, an odd expression on his face.

  She wondered whether he regretted sharing personal things about his family. She decided to keep things light-hearted. “Although my father is most definitely a gentleman in every sense of the word, his humour can sometimes be sarcastic and teasing. My mother has her sole objective in life to marry off all her daughters, and my younger sisters are all very silly, indeed.”

  Darcy smiled, not being able to take his eyes off her. She returned his gaze curiously. She could not entertain any serious notion that it was out of admiration, and could only construe that it was because he was experiencing uneasiness due to the personal nature of their conversation. They remained silent for a time as Elizabeth turned her attention back to her needlework.

  “What is that you are employing your time with there?” he struggled to ask.

  “A needlework sampler.” She turned it around for him to see. “It is not much. It will be surrounded with flowers and script.”

  He looked at it and read the words that she had begun to form with a steady line of stitches. “Think only of the past…”

  “Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”

  “Is this your philosophy in life?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “It is one. I actually have several.”

  Darcy began to wonder how she would look upon her time on this ship; how she would look upon him when this was all in the past. Would she be able to consider him with any pleasure?

  “You are fortunate if you can truly live by it.” He looked down in reflection. “I have a very unyielding temper. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.”

  “That is unfortunate, indeed. I pity anyone who may have wronged you.”

  Darcy looked at her with an odd expression on his face, as if he were recalling some particular person who had hurt him in the past.

  He stood up and walked over to her, lifting the sampler from her. She grew somewhat unsettled as his tall, close presence and attention stirred those feelings again in her that she knew not how to counter. The satisfaction it gave her, however, left her feeling that she did not want to counter it.

  An unspoken mutual admiration and respect drew them closer that day. As the last days of the ship’s journey were upon them, Darcy knew he was faced with making a decision regarding Elizabeth that, if dependent solely upon his feelings and, even now, his intellect, would be easy to make.

  His feelings he had no control over. They had grown stronger just from being in her presence, enjoying her company. He believed she enjoyed his as well, although he had to admit that she seemed to enjoy the company of most people on this ship. His intellect was stimulated by conversations he had with her that gave evidence of her own intellect and liveliness.

  But the deeper recesses of his being still demanded he think beyond his personal partiality and consider how she would, or would not, be accepted by his whole circle of family and acquaintances. Surely there would be those who would graciously accept any woman he deemed worthy of his hand. But there would be others who would go out of their way to make life unbearable for him and her alike.

  He lay awake those last few nights on the ship, listening to the sound of her breathing, and he tossed and turned as the battle waged even more fiercely. He struggled for that which was so close to him, yet so far.

  He knew himself too well to know that once he had it settled in his mind, he would adamantly set forth to attain that which he so greatly desired. He knew it would put him in an awkward position with Elizabeth if she did not return similar leanings of her heart toward him. If he approached her with his strong feelings of regard and she did not return them, she would most likely no longer feel comfortable sharing the room with him, but that would be comparatively minor compared to the anguish he would suffer. At length he determined he would have to wait until they were just upon American soil. He knew, however, where the inclinations of his heart lay.

  Elizabeth, unaware of his struggle, tried not to look ahead at what
lay before her. She put aside all thoughts about their inevitable parting, and daily strove to enjoy their time together. They got along exceedingly well, apart from her stubborn nature that tended to clash fiercely with the authoritative streak he possessed. Although she was not a woman who easily retreated from obstacles she faced in life, she would never consider pressuring Mr. Darcy to go against his original intent to annul the marriage and retain her as his wife. She was all too aware, although she did not agree with, the irrational obligations those in the first circles of society placed on the position of the person they married.

  With these thoughts and feelings surrounding Darcy and Elizabeth, the last few days of the voyage passed with camaraderie, and before they knew it, they found themselves facing the fact that it was their last day upon the ship. They would be reaching America sometime the following day.

  On the final day of sailing before arriving in America, the winds picked up and clouds began to form. They had previously passed through several storms along the course of this voyage, but none had been too severe. The captain could tell this storm was different, and he began taking precautions well before the storm hit.

  The first thing that became noticeable to everyone was the increase in the size of the swells, causing the ship to be tossed severely to and fro. As passengers gathered in the dining room, anticipating their final evening of revelry, they had to keep a firmer grip on their cups of tea and coffee, their plates of food, and utensils. Revelry soon turned into a struggle to maintain order.

  The captain knew they were heading straight into the storm, as the storms came off the east coast of America. He had heard many tales of vicious ones that spun ships around and ripped them to pieces.

  Although the sun had not yet set, an eerie darkness settled over the ship. Lightning flashed around them and the winds picked up fiercely. The crew scrambled to furl the sails to prevent the ship from being blown over by the forceful gale.

  At sunset, the storm hit with fury. Festivities were abruptly cancelled, and everyone was ordered to their rooms as rain began to pour down in torrents. What was earlier thought to be a savage tossing of the ship proved to be nothing compared to what they now experienced.

  When Darcy helped Elizabeth return to the room, as it was exceedingly difficult to even walk, she watched in utter frustration as Darcy pulled out a coat and began to put it on.

  “What are you planning on doing?”

  “I am going out there to see if there is anything I can do!”

  “Are you a fool? You could get yourself killed up there!”

  “Elizabeth, I cannot just sit here, knowing that the ship could break apart at any minute! You stay here!”

  He opened the door and slammed it behind him as the boat encountered a swell that tipped it precariously on its side.

  “William, please, no!”

  Elizabeth grasped for something to hold on to as she cried out for him to stay. Her voice was lost in the crashing of the waves against the boat. She was left alone to ponder in anger why this man insisted on doing such a thing as to venture out into the storm when the captain and crew were most capable of handling things. Who did he think he was?

  As her mind unwillingly became engaged with the worst scenarios of what might befall them due to the intensity of the storm, she was gripped with fear.

  The ship made a sudden, violent lurch to the side and Elizabeth was harshly flailed against the wall. She frantically tried to grasp hold of the table to keep from falling. She then leaned against the table to secure her own balance as the ship swayed in the opposite direction. It returned to its upright position only for the briefest moment, and then continued its tremulous tilting. The ship tossed as if it was in the hands of a mighty, relentless force, and its pitching was increasing in intensity by the minute.

  She stubbornly refused to let her fear get the best of her and consequently decided to do something. She determined her first course of action must be to stow away and secure everything that was susceptible to falling down, toppling over, or scooting precariously across the floor.

  She worked quickly, fighting against her fear and the savage tossing of the ship, quickly and adeptly stowing everything that was not secured. The ship swayed one moment from one side to the other, and then would rise up from the front as it encountered a swell head-on and then come crashing down again. Her heart pounded as the realization swept through her of what a storm like this could do to a ship.

  When she had secured all she could, she made the decision that it would be best for her to stay low to the floor. She felt that even trying to secure herself in the narrow bed for the night would be fruitless due to the extent of the ship’s unremitting tossing. She knew she could easily be thrown from the bed onto the floor. She took her pillow and propped herself against a wall, bringing her knees up and grasping hold tightly with her arms. She whispered a silent prayer that the ship would remain intact and all onboard would remain safe.

  Her thoughts and prayers dwelt particularly on Darcy and his safety.

  What a fool he is! her thoughts repeatedly echoed. Why must he always insist in being in control of a situation, when it is not even his place to worry? She let out a frustrated sigh and a cry heavenward for his safety.

  Chapter 11

  Elizabeth sat still, keeping her eyes on the door, hoping and praying that Darcy would return. After what seemed an eternity of waiting and imagining every horrible thing, it finally opened and a very wet Darcy stomped in.

  “The captain says it looks to be quite a severe storm!” He had to compete with the thunderous resonance to be heard. Pulling off his coat as it left puddles of water on the floor, he informed Elizabeth, “He has all hands on deck and they have furled all the sails. There is as much water coming from the swells over the sides of the ship as there is rain coming down from the heavens! It is going to be a long night.”

  A tremendous sense of relief had washed over her when he walked in, causing her to close her eyes in a quick, prayerful “thank you.” But it was tempered with residual anger toward his foolish stubbornness. She knew there would be no benefit in expressing her anger now. “Does the captain appear concerned?” she asked.

  “The captain says not to worry, but we need to stow everything that is not secured or it will come crashing down.” Taking a quick glance around the room, he said, “Oh, I see you have done that already.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He hung up his coat on a rack and raked his hand through his wet hair. His coat had kept out some of the water, but his shirt was soaked in places.

  Elizabeth made her way over to the dresser and secured a towel, handing it to him. “You should get out of your wet clothes.”

  Darcy looked at her and nodded. “That is something I plan to do.” He took the towel and briskly rubbed down his hair, removing the excess water. “It would have been better for me up there if I had had an oilskin coat. That is what the crew all wear in a storm such as this, and it really helps them keep somewhat dry.” He walked over to the small closet, and as he did, the ship made a sudden lurch to the left, propelling him off balance and sending him against the table, his shoulder going right into its edge. With a moan, he grabbed his shoulder with his other hand, and promptly slid himself down to the floor.

  “The other thing the captain said is to stay as low to the floor as possible.” He grimaced painfully. “I now see that is a wise idea.”

  “Are you hurt?” Elizabeth asked as the ship rose and fell mercilessly.

  He vigorously rubbed his shoulder and replied, “I do not think it is fatal.”

  Elizabeth smiled as she realized he was trying to be light-hearted with his last remark, possibly to help ease her fears. He continued, “I shall most likely be sore for a few days, that is all.” He sat on the floor, continuing to rub his injured shoulder, and soon made another attempt to retrieve a dry shirt. When he reached out the arm with the injured shoulder, he withdrew it back in pain. “Ohhh!” His hand immediatel
y went up to rub it again.

  “You are not all right,” Elizabeth said as she reached him. “Let me help you.” She easily took hold of the dry shirt he had been attempting to reach and then turned to look at him. “Can you unfasten your shirt?” she asked.

  He tried to untie his neckcloth with his unhurt hand, using his injured arm as little as possible. Elizabeth watched with the expectation that she would help if he needed her assistance, although in this area she wondered whether her fingers would be a help or a hindrance to him as they had begun to shake nervously. As he began to undo the buttons to his shirt, she forced herself to look away.

  As much as she would have liked to approach this circumstance in a very practical, unemotional way, her heart’s pounding and her rising tide of feelings began to overpower her. That he was hurt almost made him more vulnerable, more desirable. She suddenly felt that she would be very happy taking care of this man until they were old and grey. But she halted that thought immediately, knowing it would not do any good to think about things that were not to be.

  As her thoughts were engaged in this direction, Darcy attempted to remove his shirt, and Elizabeth was stirred from her reverie by another groan of pain from him. The pain in his arm was such that he could not manoeuvre the shirt down off his arms, and he looked helplessly at Elizabeth.

  “I am sorry, but I do not seem able to accomplish this. My arm is causing me a great deal of pain.”

  Elizabeth positioned herself behind him and calmly responded, “Drop both of your arms down by your side.” When he did so, she gently took the shirt by the collar, her fingers lightly brushing his neck, and brought it down along his long arms and slid it off. She was glad she was situated behind him, as this simple action and the sight of him shirtless from the back caused some unexplainable stirrings within her and a very noticeable blush across her face.