by Pride
“This is very different from a trip to the Lakes,” said Darcy.
Elizabeth laughed.
“Indeed. If we were in the Lakes, I would be twirling an umbrella and not a parasol!”
“And speaking of parasols, the sun has faded the silk,” said Darcy, studying her parasol critically. “I think I must buy you a new one.”
They were passing a variety of interesting shops, and Elizabeth had all the fun of choosing a new parasol, which she decided to use straightaway.
“Oh, what a good idea. I am sure I need a new parasol, too,” said Mrs Bennet.
Darcy obliged his mother-in-law.
Edward then took Elizabeth aside and said in low voice, “I would like to buy a parasol for Sophie, but it would be impossible for her to accept such a gift from me. I will gladly reimburse you, Lizzy, if you will buy one for her.”
Elizabeth agreed but told him that no reimbursement was necessary, saying, “You are right; such a gift cannot come from a young man, but from another woman there can be no harm in it.”
Sophie was delighted with the gift, and her blush and smile made it clear she knew from where the thought had originated.
By the time they left the shop, they had bought so many parasols—for Elizabeth decided Jane would like one, and then Kitty and Mary and Lydia must have one too—that the shopkeeper was left with a beatific smile on his face.
“And now we must return to the ship,” said Darcy. “We are dining with the British Consul tonight, and I have some letters to write before we meet him. If you have any letters to write, make sure they are ready by the time we leave for the consulate and he will make sure they are posted for us.”
Once back at the ship, the party split up. The boys were claimed by their tutors, who were using the present location as a springboard for lessons in history, geography, science, and mathematics. Darcy went below to write his letters. Elizabeth and Sophie stayed on deck with the girls, taking out their embroidery.
Edward returned to his cabin, intending to work some more on attempting to decipher the hieroglyphic text, but as he approached the door he stopped when he heard noises coming from inside. He had half a mind to return to the deck, so that his servant could finish cleaning and tidying the small space undisturbed, when his desire to work overcame him and he went in. But instead of finding that his cabin was being cleaned, as he expected, he found that one of the sailors was rifling through his trunk. The sailor looked up, startled, and backed away from the trunk while all the time saying, “I wasn’t doing nothing, honest.” But Edward, with the evidence of his own eyes before him, was incensed and grappled with the man as he tried to make good his escape.
There was a scuffle, but the outcome was never really in any doubt, and Edward ended the wrestling match with a well-placed blow.
He hauled the dazed sailor to his feet and marched him off to the captain’s cabin. He knocked on the door and went in. Captain Merriweather looked up in surprise.
“I came back to my cabin unexpectedly and found this dog rifling through my things,” said Edward in disgust.
“I never did,” said the sailor in a surly voice, though he evidently did not think he would convince anyone.
Captain Merriweather was grave and very apologetic.
“This is a very serious matter,” he said, “and I am sorry you have been inconvenienced. Most of the crew are known to me and have sailed with me many times before, but this man is on my ship for the first—and last—time.”
He ordered a flogging to take place that evening, and Edward, leaving the sailor in the captain’s custody, returned to his cabin. But the incident had unsettled him and he could not work. Instead, he repacked his trunk, thinking how stupid the sailor had been, for there was nothing of value in it. But no doubt the small trinkets it contained would have been sold in the port before they sailed, and the sailor must have relied upon the theft not being discovered until they were under way again, by which time there would have been nothing to connect him to the crime.
News of the incident quickly spread round the ship.
Elizabeth, fetching a shawl from her cabin, was initially sympathetic toward Edward, but when she heard of the proposed flogging she was horrified.
“This cannot be,” she said to her husband. “Think of the children.”
Darcy, too, was unhappy. He opened his mouth to say that they could not protect the children from the world in which they lived, no matter how much they might wish to do so, and that John would see worse in the army. But realising, just in time, that this would awaken all Elizabeth’s maternal fears and protective instincts, he changed his mind.
Instead he said, “Shipboard discipline must be maintained, my love, and the captain has every right to do what he must in order to achieve that end.”
Elizabeth, however, was adamant that the man should not be flogged aboard any ship that carried her children as passengers, and finding herself at an impasse with her husband, she went herself to the captain. Captain Merriweather was obviously unhappy at her interference, but Elizabeth carried her point, and it was agreed at last that the man should be spared a flogging but that he should be discharged and set ashore at once. Satisfied that she had acted for the best, Elizabeth retired to her cabin to dress for dinner.
Her maid had just finished fastening the last button on Elizabeth’s favourite amber silk gown when the door opened and Darcy entered. Seeing the anger in his eyes, she dismissed her maid, saying, “Thank you, Hester, that will be all.”
Her maid bobbed a curtsey and left.
“What a pleasant time we had looking round the port,” said Elizabeth, determined not to argue with him, for now that she had gained her point, no further arguments were necessary. “I am sure my sisters will be pleased with their presents. The only disappointment was that I could not find a new doll for Margaret. She carries that ugly little Egyptian doll everywhere, and it is so old and battered that I would rather she had something new.”
“I did not come here to talk about a doll,” he said. “I have just spoken to Captain Merriweather and discovered that, despite what I said this afternoon, you saw fit to disregard my wishes and insisted on having your own way.”
“I am sorry if it upsets you, but I will not have my children subjected to such brutality.”
“The children would not have been subjected to it. I had intended to arrange with Merriweather that it would take place when they were ashore tomorrow. But they cannot be shielded from all the unpleasantness in the world, Elizabeth, and you had no right to tell the captain how to run his ship. Aboard this vessel, his word is law.”
“I do not notice it being law when you have a request to make,” Elizabeth said, growing angry despite herself. “You have often asked him to change things to suit your fancy. I, at least, had a good reason to ask him to change his mind—which he was happy to do, I might add.”
“A request is one thing, but you did not request that he should reconsider the punishment; you demanded it, and since he did not wish to offend the wife of his employer, he had little choice but to acquiesce. I told you we must not interfere…”
“Am I your servant, then, to always do as I am told?”
“No, you are my wife,” he said, his eyes darkening at the interruption, “and when I tell you not to interfere, I expect you to obey me. I believe that is what you agreed to do on our wedding day.”
“And you agreed to honour me, but I do not see much honouring at the moment. No, say nothing more,” she said, brushing her hair savagely. “On this we must agree to differ.”
She turned to the mirror and, in the absence of her maid, began to dress her own hair.
“We have not finished,” he said. “Do I have your promise that you will not disobey me in this way again?”
“Where the welfare of my children is concerned, all I can promise you i
s that I will always do that which I think right.”
“Then perhaps tomorrow, madam, you should consider returning to England. Immediately.”
He spoke the words in a low growl, and though Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face, she refused to let her fear show.
“Perhaps I will,” she said equally coldly.
“Very well. And you can make arrangements to take your mother with you.”
Elizabeth rose from her seat. “I see you wish to be rid of all the Bennet women then, sir,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
He scowled. “Only those whose behaviour offends me.”
And with that he left the cabin, the door banging behind him.
Elizabeth stumbled against the stool, almost unable to believe what had just happened. She and Darcy disagreed often but argued rarely and never to such lengths. It seemed impossible that they had just exchanged such harsh words. It was almost as if some malign force had seized hold of them and driven them on.
She clutched at the table, forcing herself not to collapse on the floor in a flood of tears. For several minutes she stood immobile before moving toward the open porthole and taking in great gulps of bracing salty air.
Gradually, she felt sense return to her thoughts. And as she replayed the scene in her mind she could not discount the uncomfortable feeling that he had, in part, been right—that she should not have gone behind his back. Darcy had never been the kind of man who demanded unquestioning slavish obedience; she would not have married him if he had. And the fact that he had intended to make an alternative arrangement for their children during the punishment showed he agreed with her. If she had shown a little more faith in her husband’s judgement, this would not have happened.
She finished dressing, then went up on deck, where she saw her mother gossiping with Sophie—though Mrs Bennet was doing all the talking and Sophie was doing all the listening—and where the children were engaged in their various activities. Beth waved to her but then turned back to Mr Inkworthy. They were bending over a tablet of paper, and it was clear that he was instructing the girl in the finer points of sketching and that Beth did not wish to be disturbed. The boys were with the first mate, who was demonstrating how to use a sextant. No one, it seemed, had heard their argument. Relieved, Elizabeth looked round for Darcy.
It took her some time to find him but at last she saw him, standing at the prow of the ship, his coat slung over the side and his white ruffled shirt billowing in the breeze. His hair stirred, too, and she longed to touch it. She could not bear to be out of sorts with him, and so she walked over to him.
“Darcy…” she began hesitantly. He turned round and looked at her, his eyes no longer dark with anger. “I should not have gone behind your back; you were right to be angry,” she said. “I should have talked to you about it again, and we should have come to some agreement.”
“Yes, you should,” he said, adding with a smile, “but then you would not be Elizabeth. I did not marry a meek woman, and I have no right to complain that you do not behave like one after fifteen years of marriage. And you were right, too. It was a difficult situation and one which needed careful handling, but I am glad you are so protective of the children. They are still young and the girls especially should not be subject to such things, particularly Margaret. She has a very vivid imagination, and I think this journey is already sending it down rather macabre channels. Egypt is a strange and unknown place, and the ancient Egyptians were in many ways a gruesome people. Laurence has been regaling her with stories of murderous crocodiles, and Jane has been telling her of musty tombs and ancient curses. Then, too, she has heard us talking. It is perhaps no wonder that she tells so many grisly stories to her doll.”
“She does seem to talk to it rather a lot,” said Elizabeth.
“Do you think we ought to take it away from her?” asked Darcy.
“No,” said Elizabeth, after a moment’s thought. “It would only provoke a storm of tears. Better to let her tire of the thing herself, as she soon will. On board ship she has little to amuse her, but once we reach Cairo there will be more for her to see, and I will make a special effort to find her a suitable replacement. In fact, I believe I will buy her one even if nothing special catches my eye. Then we can quietly remove Aahotep.”
“I defer to your counsel, my love,” he said and she smiled at him.
“Then you do not wish to be rid of me?”
“I never wish that. I cannot believe I ever said it. Do not, even for one moment, ever think that I do,” he said taking her in his arms and kissing her. She returned his embraces, glad that they were hidden from the rest of the ship by the billowing sails.
“I feared that tomorrow I would have to find a ship to return home,” she whispered.
“I feared that I would have to continue without you.” He nuzzled her ear, before drawing back. “Your mother, however…”
Elizabeth laughed as she shook her head.
“I’m afraid there is no hope, my dear. Mama will not move from my side if there is a chance of new adventures. Come, you must dress or we will be late for dinner with the Consul.” Taking his hand she led him back toward the ship’s cabins.
“We could offer her a new wardrobe and a trip through Italy. I’m sure the Consul must know of some genteel companion who would be pleased to escort an elderly English lady back home in style and comfort.”
“By all means, suggest it,” Elizabeth said, wanting to laugh even louder at the hopeful look on his face. “But don’t be surprised when she says no!”
***
From her seat on the aft deck, Sophie watched Darcy and Elizabeth longingly. She had been looking for just that sort of love and companionship all her life but had despaired of ever finding it. And yet, perhaps… She looked at her new parasol, which lay furled on the deck beside her. It was very pretty, but it was more valuable to her because of its origins. She knew that Edward had asked Elizabeth to buy it for her and thought it was typical of his chivalry. She bent down to pick it up, for although it was early evening, the sun was stronger than she had expected and it was hot on the back of her neck. But as she reached down she gave a start and her blood ran cold. Margaret’s doll was lying there, and she could have sworn she saw it turn its head to look at Darcy and Elizabeth as they walked past on the way to their cabin. And she could have equally sworn that its eyes were glowing brilliantly with undisguised malevolence.
She drew back in shock.
“Is anything the matter?” came a voice beside her.
Looking up, she saw Edward.
“No, of course not,” she said, more to reassure herself than him, thinking, It could not be. It is impossible.
“Are you sure? You are shaking,” he said, his voice full of concern. “A touch of heatstroke, perhaps?”
“Ah, yes, that must be it,” she said, grasping at the idea with gratitude. “I have had too much sun. I have been sitting here without a head covering, and I have been seeing things.”
“It is not to be wondered at. You should use your parasol at all times, or at least wear a bonnet. Sunstroke is not to be taken lightly. Would you like me to escort you to your cabin? Perhaps you will feel better after an hour lying down.”
“Yes, I think I will,” she said, for she was still feeling shaken.
He offered her his arm, and she was about to take it when she remembered Margaret.
“Have no fear. Here is Miss Margaret’s grandmama.”
He hailed Mrs Bennet, who was looking for somewhere to hide from Laurence in a boisterous game of hide-and-seek.
Mrs Bennet drew the little girl to her, saying, “Quiet, Margaret, we must not let Laurence find us.”
Margaret snatched up her doll, and Sophie was relieved to see that it was just a doll, wooden and lifeless, with pieces of coloured glass for its eye
s.
Margaret tucked herself behind a suitable barrel with Mrs Bennet, and Sophie, putting her hand to her head, for she did feel rather faint, allowed Edward to escort her to her cabin.
***
Elizabeth and Darcy returned to the ship tired but in good spirits. Although their evening had started so turbulently, they had resolved their differences, and besides it had been good to get off the ship and new company was always stimulating.
They were greeted by the captain, and as Darcy stayed to talk to him, Elizabeth excused herself, for she was tired, and went below. But as she descended the stairs, she saw the door to their cabin was open. For a moment she had a pang of alarm and wondered if this was another untrustworthy crewmember trying to steal from them, but as she reached the threshold she saw what had happened. The two tiny portholes in the cabin had been left open, and although the sea was relatively calm, it must not have been that way all evening, for there must have been enough of a swell to cause seawater to come through. Elizabeth could not help crying out in despair. Their beds were ruined, as were several books and all their writing equipment. Then she saw her new parasol, which had been standing in the corner. It was soaked through and beyond repair.
“Oh, Lizzy,” said Mrs Bennet, hearing her cry and rushing in behind her. “Whatever has happened?”
“Someone inadvertently left the portholes open and water has come in, Mama,” Elizabeth replied, trying to sound lighthearted. “It appears that you were right to mistrust my enthusiasm for fresh air.”
“Oh dear, and your lovely new parasol is ruined.”
Elizabeth’s maid appeared with a mop and bucket and soon everyone was busy trying to repair the damage done to the cabin. As they worked, no one noticed Margaret slip away to her own cabin. The little girl crawled onto her bed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes heavy with fatigue.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Aahotep,” she whispered to the doll that travelled everywhere with her. “Papa bought the parasol as a present for Mama. She will be very sad now.”
She held the doll close to her ear as though she expected a reply, but none was forthcoming and eventually her eyes closed tight and she fell asleep.
