Darcy stood still for a few moments, feeling frustrated and helpless. If diseases like typhoid did come upon this ship, those who were in steerage were the most susceptible because of the living conditions. Elizabeth, who was helping those very people, was at an even greater risk, in view of the fact that she was getting very little sleep. He knew disease was a possibility on every ship, but he felt acutely responsible himself, being the owner of Pemberley’s Promise .
Darcy was pondering the situation when he looked up to see another of his adoring women, Miss Evans, strolling toward him. At the moment, he was feeling anything but civil, giving her only an infinitesimal nod of his head, then turned and quickly returned to his room before she was able to utter a word.
He remained there for some time, trying to read a book but making little progress. They had been just over one week at sea, and had about three more to go. He suddenly slammed his book closed and set it down abruptly on the table.
He felt a restlessness suffuse through his body. He did not know what he wanted to do, but he felt he needed to be out of the confines of this room. He refused to be a prisoner on his own ship.
Perhaps if he went to the dining area he would find out something more. He battled with the thought that it would likely throw him again into the presence of one of those annoying, persistent ladies, and he was in no humour for it. But he did not wish to remain in his room. Hang those blasted women!
After contemplating his options, he finally stood up, opened the door to his room, and walked down the hall, his concern for Elizabeth stronger than his wish to shield himself from unwanted advances.
As he passed by the stairs, he was suddenly put off balance by an unexpected swell that rocked the ship, but he steadied himself easily. Hearing a soft cry for help and the sound of tumbling, he hurried to the stairway and looked down. He was stunned to see that a young lady had lost her footing and tumbled upon the steps. Darcy immediately rushed down the few steps to reach her and bent down. When she looked up in his direction, he saw a very tired and pale-looking Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, are you hurt?”
She let out a meagre smile. “I had to come up and get some fresh air. Perhaps I should not have.”
She reached down and grabbed her ankle. “I believe my ankle turned when the boat listed.”
“Let me help you. You may have broken it or sprained it.”
“No, I will be all right, truly.”
Before she could protest, Darcy reached down and agilely picked her up. “My room is right here. Let me take you there and see what can be done.”
“Please, Mr. Darcy, you do not have to do this.” Her words did not come effortlessly, as being unexpectedly lifted by his strong arms added confusion to her already feverish and foggy mind; more than she wished to acknowledge.
“No, I insist.”
He carried her with ease to his room, calling out to a woman who was passing by. “Could you help us? Please come with me and see to Miss Bennet. She seems to have injured her ankle.”
“I would be glad to,” the woman replied.
They walked into Darcy’s room as Elizabeth struggled to keep her head upright, although the pleasant scent that seemed to emanate from him strongly tempted her to lean her head against him and turn her face into him. He gently placed her on the small bench next to the table. He stood up while the woman, a Mrs. Mullins, as she introduced herself, stooped down to look at the ankle.
“Not to worry, Miss Bennet. I have raised five children, and I have seen many sprains and broken bones in my life.”
Elizabeth reached down to rub her ankle and felt quite foolish that all this attention was being paid to her when it was her fault and she was quite certain there was nothing seriously wrong. She was fighting against the effects of lack of sleep and illness, but was able to glance around the room and notice the relative splendour of Mr. Darcy’s accommodations.
Mrs. Mullins stooped down and addressed Elizabeth as she gently began unlacing her boot. “Where does it hurt, Miss Bennet?”
“The inside of my ankle, Mrs. Mullins. I twisted it two years ago and it goes out on me occasionally. It shall be back to normal in no time.” Elizabeth took some deep breaths, as this was all extremely arduous for her in her ailing state.
Darcy, trying to avert his eyes from the most desirable sight of her now bootless slender ankle, casually asked, “You said you sprained it?”
Elizabeth lifted her head slowly, looking up at him, and Darcy immediately noticed her pale and worn appearance. “Yes. Two years ago I fell out…” She abruptly stopped, then, as if she changed her mind, simply said, “I fell.”
Her fevered mind seemed to make an attempt to recall something, but it evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. Whatever it had been was gone, but she had a clear enough mind to know that she did not want Mr. Darcy aware that only two years ago she made it a practice to climb trees.
Elizabeth turned her attention back to Mrs. Mullins and therefore did not see the startled look upon Darcy’s face. From out of the past, a voice finished her sentence… out of a tree . He looked upon her and realized that it had to be her! Elizabeth had to be the one he shared the carriage ride with two years ago! His mind raced. What did he remember about her and that ride? She told me how she had fallen out of a tree and sprained her ankle. We had a lively discussion about books. She challenged my every thought. I was not able to get her out of my thoughts for months after. I chided myself for never asking her name!
Mrs. Mullins advised that they wrap it tightly and that she avoid walking on it. Darcy stepped out and called a member of the ship’s crew who was passing by to obtain something with which to wrap her foot. Darcy was grateful for the chance to step out of the room. His mind now reeled with the almost complete conviction that Miss Bennet was the very woman who ended up haunting him two years earlier.
He tried desperately to remember any details about that day. Where was she going on to after he departed the carriage? He did not recall. He recollected a man and a woman waiting with her and who gave her assistance as she stepped into the carriage, when he carelessly ploughed into her. Her aunt and uncle . She was on her way now to visit her aunt and uncle in America. All right, but most everyone has an aunt and uncle . He turned to look at her and thought he could simply ask her if she sprained it by falling out of a tree, but that would most likely embarrass her. He was quite sure she did not finish her sentence because she did not want to let on that she had climbed a tree and fallen from it. He did not believe it would do any good to ask her if she remembered him and the carriage ride, as she most likely would not.
The crewman returned with some rolled-up cloths, and Mrs. Mullins began the slow, delicate process of wrapping her foot. Darcy stood back with his hand firmly planted against his jaw, rubbing it briskly as his mind searched the deepest recesses of his brain to try to recall anything more about her. Elizabeth glanced up and noticed a very disconcerted look on his face and she felt he was most irritated and impatient with this interruption.
“I am so sorry. So sorry,” was all she could say. She was convinced he was put out having to assist her, when he must have others things he wanted, or needed, to tend to.
Darcy watched as Mrs. Mullins gingerly wrapped Elizabeth’s ankle with the cloth. It was very evident to him how weak she was. His anger had increased now and he directed it at the ship’s policy, of which he had been unaware, allowing children to be doubled up in beds. He was angry at the conditions in steerage, even though, on the whole, they were better than most other ships. He was angry that he could do nothing about Elizabeth’s situation.
She was very ill and she would not improve unless she was out of steerage. But how to get her out was the question. Where else could she go? There was not one available bed on the ship.
Once her ankle was wrapped, Darcy came over and helped Elizabeth stand up, asking her to try to put some pressure on it. As she stepped down upon it, she winced in pain.
“Miss Bennet, I am afraid you are not going anywhere with your ankle like that for a while.”
“Well I certainly cannot stay here!”
Her liveliness, even when she was feeling as poorly as she was now, humoured him.
“You need not worry about that, Miss Bennet. I shall carry you to the dining area so you can get something to eat. Right now you need to eat for strength.”
Elizabeth tried to protest, but he was correct; she did not have the strength. This time when he picked her up, she was too tired to do anything but relax against him, and as her head fell against his chest, not only could she smell a pleasant scent that came from him, but she could feel his beating heart, which in itself, soothed and comforted her.
As he carried her toward the door, Darcy looked down at her and spoke. “You are not well. I can see that you are not getting enough sleep. Miss Bennet, this can turn quite serious if you do not take care of yourself. You must claim your bed back.”
Elizabeth let out a frail sigh. “Perhaps in a few days. The Rawlings girls are improving.” She took a few shallow breaths before she continued. “But I fear it is not so much for want of a bed, but that I am a light sleeper, and am kept awake more by the sounds of the crowded room than the discomfort of sleeping on the floor.”
“Miss Bennet, certainly there is something you can do.”
“Mr. Darcy, I am unfortunately ill, as are several people in steerage. I just need some fresh air and something to eat.” Her words were almost whispered, and fatigue prompted her to close her eyes.
Darcy looked back into his room and rested his eyes upon the second bed in his room, the only vacant bed in the ship. If ever he had come up with a crazy notion, he had one now. The words of his valet in this very room came back to him. Get a wife for the trip. He looked back at Elizabeth as he closed the door behind them and carried her to the dining area.
There were not many people inside, for which he was grateful. He placed Elizabeth on a bench off by herself and secured for her some hot tea and some hardtack biscuits.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy watched her as she slowly sipped the tea, but he did not leave. She looked at him curiously. He seemed intent on saying something, but no words were coming.
“Was there something else, Mr. Darcy?”
“Miss Bennet, I… I have a proposition that I would like you to seriously consider.”
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow at him, wondering what it was he was proposing. “What would that be, Mr. Darcy?”
“I… uh… I am concerned about your sleeping conditions…”
“I have told you there is no need for your concern.”
“Since you do not seem to be inclined to ask for your bed back…” He did not seem able to go on.
“Yes?” She lifted her eyes to his face but seemed unable to lift her head.
Darcy sat down on the bench opposite her. “I would like to offer you the spare bed in my room.”
He saw the flash in Elizabeth’s eyes just a moment before he felt the sting across his face.
She would have indignantly stormed off, but was prevented by her sore ankle and the weak state in which she found herself. Darcy reached up to the place on his now stinging cheek she had just slapped. “Perhaps you are not as weak as I believed.”
Elizabeth turned her angry eyes back down to the meagre nourishment in front of her. “Please leave me alone, Mr. Darcy. I beg you, please.”
Darcy took in a deep breath. “Miss Bennet, I ask that you just hear me out. I am not suggesting anything unseemly.” He continued to rub his cheek.
Incredulous, but with extreme fatigue consuming her, Elizabeth turned to him. “And just what are you suggesting then, Mr. Darcy?”
“You need a bed, and I… I have the only spare one on the ship. Obviously it would not do for you to share my room with me as we are not married.”
Elizabeth almost laughed that he seemed to be struggling to articulate something, and she was more curious about hearing him than serious about considering it, whatever it was. She did not say anything, but patiently waited.
“I suggest we have the captain marry us and then there would be no problem with you sleeping in my room… on that bed. It would be strictly a marriage on paper, not a… I would not… it would, of course, be strictly platonic.”
Now Elizabeth did laugh, however weakly. “Mr. Darcy, you are certainly a man of unexpected surprises. If you will excuse me now, sir, I would like to be left alone.”
“Miss Bennet, walking up and down these stairs will be even more dangerous for you now that your ankle has gone out. You are ill and are not sleeping well, which makes you more prone to getting seriously ill down there. Heavens! You are not even sleeping in a bed!”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth’s head felt light and she wondered whether she could even express her arguments in an intelligible way. “I appreciate your concern, but what would induce you to make such an offer? What is in it for you, if I dare ask?”
Darcy leaned toward her. “I am tired of being harassed and pursued by the women on this ship. There are times I prefer solitude, and while, granted, most people leave me alone, there is a desperate group of women on this ship who will not. My getting married will bring an end to their disturbing me.”
Elizabeth shook her head, trying desperately to clear the thoughts that were now so foggy. “You want to marry me, so that these ladies, who are solely interested in securing a husband, securing you as a husband, will stop bothering you?”
“That is a correct assessment.” Elizabeth was stunned at how matter-of-factly he spoke.
“Mr. Darcy, I find this a highly foolish idea. What is to become of our marriage after the voyage? A marriage ceremony performed by a sea captain is as valid as one done by a clergyman.”
“I will have it annulled once I return to England.”
At this, Elizabeth was speechless. At her look of shock, Darcy continued. “There will be no problem in annulling it, as the marriage will never be consummated.”
Elizabeth looked down, blushing, as Darcy added, “I am sorry to have to speak frankly, but I want you to be assured, in advance, of what my intentions are… and what they are not.”
“Mr. Darcy, you may think you have an admirable idea that will solve your problems as well as mine, but there is one obstacle you have not considered.”
“What is that?”
“Captain Wendell! My father directly asked him if I could be put under his protection! He will never allow it!”
Darcy leaned in toward Elizabeth and tightly gripped his hands together, asking, “And if he does agree?”
Elizabeth was tiring more and more by the minute, and it was a strain for her to have to argue her point. “He will not, Mr. Darcy. I think we should leave it at that.”
“Miss Bennet, if he agrees to perform the ceremony, will you agree to it?”
Elizabeth struggled to look up at him. She could not make any rhyme or reason of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, nor come up with any argument against it. Finally, in great fatigue and weariness of mind she answered, “Mr. Darcy, if the captain is willing to do such a thing as this, then yes, I will agree.” She turned her attention back to the cup of tea and bread in front of her. “But I assure you, he will not!”
Darcy did not respond, but simply stood up. “Miss Bennet, if you would be so kind as to wait for me here until I return. I am going to speak with the captain immediately!”