Lost in the Deep Gaby A.
Chapter One
Georgiana held tightly to her brother's arm and watched carefully for the gaps on the dock, lest the heel of her shoes get caught again. The loud cries of the gulls circling overhead, mingled with the shouts of the men as they hoisted and hauled and carried the cargo off the ship added to the tumult and excitement of this wonderful adventure! She had never been on the docks before, had never really been allowed to accompany her brother on any of his business outings, and she was all too aware of his discomfort. She knew him so well. At this very moment he was probably chastising himself for letting Elizabeth talk him into taking her along. But then, she could always count on her dear sister to convince her brother of almost anything. He could not resist her methods of persuasion.
Georgiana's eyes remained on the wooden slats, not only for the sake of her shoes, but to prevent her from catching the eyes of the men that grinned and softly mumbled comments as they passed. Her brother's grip on her hand tightened and his expression darkened as they made their way up towards the Regalia. As they approached, three sailors resting on crates and noisily devouring fruit, began to snicker. And as one man rose, about to regale his friends with an amusing remark, Darcy turned and cast him a look that stopped the man dead in his tracks. He stiffened, bowed politely and clearing his throat, asked if he could be of some assistance.
“I'm here to see your Captain,” he growled. “And I hope to G-d those crates you're sitting on contain the bolts of silk rather than the porcelain you've been transporting; for if one piece of it is broken there will be hell to pay!” he spat.
Georgiana kept her eyes down and swallowed hard. She knew her brother's outburst had little to do with the sailor's behavior, but that did little to alleviate her embarrassment. Fitzwilliam's nerves were raw and easily strained. It was always like this when Elizabeth was feeling ill at the beginning of a new pregnancy. They had gone through it three times before and yet her brother's anxiety for his beloved wife, especially when he was away from her, was extreme. In Elizabeth's presence, he would do everything in his power to control his emotions, for he knew how much his so called over protectiveness distressed her. But away from her reprimanding looks, he was a powder keg ready to ignite.
“The Captain's not on board, Sir, but I can take you to his second in command, if you like?”
“He's left the unloading of my precious merchandise to an underling?” thought Darcy angrily. This news did nothing to mellow his mood. “Yes, take me to him at once,” he replied and followed the man carefully up the plank, supporting Georgiana's every step.
When they reached the deck they were both astonished by the scene before them. No less than forty men were working feverishly at various tasks. Crates were being brought up from the hold, sorted, labeled, and stacked. Others were being repacked into smaller containers and weighed. Shipping labels were checked, changed and recorded as the situation warranted.
In the midst of all this confusion stood a young sailor in filthy britches and an equally grimy linen shirt, referring to sheets of billing, shouting instructions, and checking the contents of each crate before marking it and then noting it in his ledger. At first the scene seemed one of total chaos, but as Darcy watched and listened, he realized that this man was well organized and had things very well in hand. He let out a sigh of relief.
Georgiana was unaccustomed to seeing men in such varying degrees of undress and didn't quite know where to rest her eyes. Some were actually shirtless, their perspiration trickling down their backs. But her attention was soon held by the bearing and magnetism of the seaman in charge. He was beautiful to look at --- tall, lithe and strong. His boyish good looks, though marred by several small scars about his cheekbone and chin, were united with an underlying strength of character that shone through his eyes. He had a calm and confident countenance, despite the commanding tone of his voice and the rough nature of his work. And his thick, glossy hair, curly and chestnut brown, was tied at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. As he turned, the fine linen clinging to his moistened back revealed welts and scars that frightened and confused her. She lowered her eyes, more in pain than embarrassment.
Gauging the possible risk to life and limb by getting under foot in this situation, Darcy gestured to the seaman to come to him and watched as he impatiently made his way towards them. Polite, but obviously annoyed at being interrupted in his task, he gave Darcy a token bow and said, “I'm sorry Sir, no visitors are allowed on deck. This is a private vessel.”
“Yes,” said Darcy, rather annoyed himself, “I am well aware of that since I am the one who owns it!”
“I beg your pardon, Sir. And your name is….?” asked the seaman.
“Do you mean to tell me that you don't know the name of the man who pays your wages?” barked Darcy.
“I certainly do, Sir, but I will not reveal it to any man who comes aboard this ship and claims to own it. I have a responsibility to protect my employer's privacy as well as his interests,” he replied, taking a second to take in Georgiana's sweet, discomforted face.
Darcy knew he had been bested and that his behavior had been unduly harsh. Straightening himself and taking a slow, conscious breath, he held out his hand to introduce himself. “You are absolutely right young man and I appreciate your discretion. I'm Fitzwilliam Darcy and this is my sister, Georgiana Darcy. We expected the Regalia tomorrow but heard at breakfast that you had docked just before dawn.”
“Forgive me Mr. Darcy, but as we have never met, I felt it prudent to be cautious. The Captain has gone ashore to see his wife and left me in charge of the shipment of the goods. The fabrics are now being sorted into more manageable quantities for shipping, as you can see. I know the blue and white porcelain is to go to your London residence. I checked it personally and every piece is in tact. My men repacked it most carefully and we have just loaded it onto the special coach you ordered. Is there anything else that I can help you with?”
“You can start by telling me your name, Sir.”
Horatio looked at Darcy and then at the exquisitely delicate beauty beside him. He had every reason to be proud of the admiration and respect that his name evoked, yet he wanted none of that here. For some reason, unknown even to himself, he was more comfortable with this humble role and his anonymity. “I have a ridiculously long name, Sir, so everyone simply calls me Mr. H. I'm at your service, Sir. Would you care to inspect the crates?”
“Actually, I would; but only the ones that are open. Do not trouble yourself with the rest. I am only curious to see the quality of the silk that I have received in exchange for my wool. Were you present when the trade was made, Mr. H. or did the Captain handle that on his own?”
Horatio led his guests over to a set of crates whose lids had not yet been nailed down, and said, “I was with him, Sir. I speak a little Chinese…..very little mind you, but enough to make our hosts feel more kindly towards us. The negotiations were very spirited, and I believe we…, that is, you, Mr. Darcy, made out very well.” Throwing back the lid of one of the crates and folding back the linen wrappings, he pulled out a bolt of lavender silk, embroidered tone on tone, for them to see. Miss Darcy's eyes lit up and her hand automatically reached out to touch the fabric. Suddenly embarrassed, she withdrew her hand and lowered her eyes.
Horatio could not help but let out a gentle laugh as he held the fabric out to her. “Miss Darcy, it is for you enjoy, please, feel free to examine it. “
“We have been traveling, Sir,” she said softly without looking up, “my hands are not as clean as they should be.”
“Ah, well then I suppose I should not be handling it either,” he said, returning it to the crate before continuing. “There are so many subtle shades, Mr. Darcy, varying patterns and designs; why whole scenes are embroidered onto some! I think you'll be very pleased.”
“Yes, and hopefully after the women in my family have taken what they want, I will still be left with enough to sell to help pay for this expensive venture,” chuckled Darcy.
But his mirth was suddenly cut short by the recognition of what was happening between the two young people before him. The look on the seaman's face was one he recognized immediately. He was only too well acquainted with the feelings that produced it! And his sister's eyes held a light in them that he had never before seen. He had escorted her to more balls and parties since she had come out into society than he cared to remember, but had yet to see her react to anyone the way she was responding to this young sailor! He had to get her off the ship!
Chapter Two
Weary and filthy, Horatio pulled off his shirt and poured the cold water into the basin to wash. Not that he could get this grim off with a cold, wet rag. He braced himself for the chill and the pressure he would have to apply to remove even the top layer of dirt. What he would give for a long hot soak in a tub! He closed his eyes and remembered the luxuries they had enjoyed in China. How well they had been treated! It was not easy coming home to this filth and poverty. The room he had rented was small and dark, with communal bathing facilities only available between certain hours. The few times he had made it back from the Regalia in time, the number of people waiting to bathe sent him back to his room and the basin.
The war had brought him unexpected advancement in His Majesty's Royal Navy, but with the peace, he was again reduced to lieutenant and was now receiving only half wages, while recuperating from his injuries and awaiting word of his next command. The navy surgeons had insisted that he take a six-month leave to allow his knee to heal properly and thankfully it no longer pained him, but he would always walk with that slight limp, stealing from him his commanding stride and diminishing him in the eyes of many.
Despite the commendations for bravery and the pretty speeches by his superiors, he was not at all confident of promotion in peacetime. He had been given command of his own ship and entrusted with highly secret intelligence when the necessities of war demanded it. Yet all his courage and notoriety on the high seas had not changed the reality of his life on land. “He had the gratitude and admiration of a grateful nation,” the newspapers had said, but that did not award him a commission or afford him better living accommodations. Depending on the Admiralty's plans for his future, he might have some difficult decisions to make.
Some eighteen months earlier, he had left his new bride to carry out a mission on Admiral Pellew's orders. He was to search for the missing sloop, The Grasshopper, and its Captain Bracegirdle, off the coast of France. On his return, he learned that Maria was expecting, and with this news, had found renewed hope for some happiness in his hastily conceived marriage. He had never felt anything more than friendship and gratitude for Maria; but she had needed him so desperately, and he, in turn, had been so alone in the world. A sudden, tender impulse had led him to propose and yet when doubt crept in, he had looked into her eyes and had known that he could not disappoint her. Naturally, his lack of passion for Maria made it easy for him to be away at sea, and he had certainly taken advantage of what he had called “his duty to King and Country”. Then tragically, Maria and the baby were taken from him, leaving him totally on his own again.
The offer to be second-in-command on a private trading vessel had come just in time. His knee was mostly healed and he still had months to idle away, waiting for word of his new commission. The financial incentive was there as well, for he had spent most of his savings on Maria's funeral and was still helping to sustain his mother-in-law with half his monthly pay. Yet he now waited for Darcy's banknote with strangely conflicting feelings. Of course, he had more than earned the money due him, but part of him wanted nothing from this condescending man. If only he could afford to indulge his pride.
He pulled off his boots and sank onto his cot. It had been an exhausting and aggravating day. Darcy's arrogance and veiled threats had put him on the defensive and he chided himself for his weakness. He had long ago decided not to allow men like that damage his pride, yet he had no recourse in this situation lest he be willing to upset and embarrass Georgiana Darcy. His thoughts turned to her and the tension in his shoulders eased. What a sweet, beautiful creature she was! And what powerful feelings she stirred in him! He was ashamed to think that he had never felt for Maria, the kind of unnerving exhilaration that cursed through his body when he looked into Georgiana's big beautiful eyes. He understood, of course, that he was never to know her; that she was completely out of his reach. Her brother had made that abundantly clear! Nevertheless, he fell asleep picturing her shy, sweet smile and imagining what it would be like to taste those lips.
***
He brooded all the way back to Pemberley. Sitting close to the window on one side of the carriage, while Georgiana gazed out the other, he thought of how little control was left him when gripped by this overwhelming fear. Women gave birth every day, it was true…, but not all survived. The thought of losing Elizabeth was…..it was unspeakable, unthinkable, yet it tortured him day and night. Three successful pregnancies should have brought him comfort, but they did not. To his mind, they had just been very lucky…. extraordinarily blessed; but each labor carried its own risks and each time he would simply have more to lose. And the worst of it was, he had to pretend that he had perfect confidence that all would turn out well. He could not further burden Elizabeth with his fears, nor could he share with her his willingness to stop having children to ensure her safety. But what was he to do, stop loving her?
He looked contritely in Georgiana's direction, all too aware of the mess he had made of this trip. It was to have been a joyful outing for her, an adventure into the larger, less privileged world, to expand her understanding of it. His ill humor had spoiled it all and made her tense and silent. She had barely said three words to him all the way back from Plymouth and he knew he had to do something to repair the situation while they were still alone.
“Georgie, I know my temper has made this trip uncomfortable for you at times. I'm truly sorry.” He reached for her hand. “I was impatient and rude and I apologize. Sweetheart, can you forgive me?”
“I'm not the one who deserves an apology, Fitzwilliam,” she said bitterly, without turning her eyes from the window.
He was shocked that she would speak to him this way and make no attempt to ease the tension between them. He was about to offer more of an apology by way of an explanation of his feelings, when he thought the better of it. Obviously, there was nothing he could say at this moment that would soften her anger and disappointment.
Elizabeth rushed out to greet them as they stepped out of the coach, giving Georgiana a quick kiss on the cheek and placing a slightly more lingering one on her husband's lips. “Hang the servants,” thought Darcy, and kissed her back most passionately. He needed someone to soothe the savage beast inside him. His entire body released the grip of tension that had held him these past few days as his senses drank her in. G-d, he was glad to be home!
In the few moments that it took them to enter house, Elizabeth had already sensed the awkwardness between them and made an educated guess as to its cause. Turning to face them as they removed their outer garments, she cocked her head to the side, bit her lower lip and gave them an arched look. “So, I can see the two of you have had a splendid time together,” she said.
Georgiana was quick to respond. Slipping her hand into the crook of her brother's arm, she gave it a squeeze and said, “Yes, we did. We really did have a wonderful time. Only yesterday…, we had a disagreement over something minor, and we have just been sorting it out between us in the coach. Fitzwilliam has apologized and I have accepted and that is all. We are done with it. Isn't that right, Fitzwilliam?”
Elizabeth tried control her amusement at her husband's bewildered expression by biting harder on her lip, and finally finding her composure said, “Forgiven but not forgotten, I see.”
“No, you are wrong, Elizabeth. All is well. Now tell me, where are my little darlings? I have missed them so much!”
“They are enjoying a pony ride with their uncle Edmund and aunt Catherine, but should be in shortly.”
“Good, then I'll change and be ready to play with them when they return.” She kissed her brother's cheek and then Elizabeth's before rushing up the stairs to avoid any further discussion.
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam stood staring at one another until she took a few steps to close the gap between them and encircling her arms round his neck, asked softly, “So, how terrible were you?”
“Pretty terrible. Irritable, overbearing, rude! But my true crime goes much deeper. I think we have a real problem, Elizabeth,” he said most seriously. Then putting his arm around her shoulder, led her upstairs where they could talk in private and lavish affection on each other.
As he removed his coat and vest, she made herself comfortable in his chair by the fire. Kicking off her shoes, she lifted her feet onto the large ottoman they shared when reading or talking together in the evenings. She grinned playfully and wiggled her toes. This was a signal to him that she desired that intimate attention that came with a foot massage. He pulled at his neck cloth and finally managing to untie it, came to sit on the ottoman before her. He placed her feet on his lap and lovingly began his skilled ministrations.
“This is all about a handsome young sailor, Elizabeth. I think she's infatuated.”
“But surely you were not aboard the Regalia for very long? How could she possibly form an attachment so quickly?”
“I don't believe she has formed an attachment as yet, but I know she is curious, if not a bit bewitched. And to her mortification, her arrogant, overprotective brother swept her away before she could enjoy the flirtation. I believe this is the first time that I`ve denied her something that she really wanted. She is furious with me; especially because I made it clear to this young upstart that he was not to look at her.”
“Fitzwilliam, you didn't!”
“Of course, I did! Did you expect me to give him my permission? He is a sailor, Elizabeth, a common sailor! What could he possibly have to offer her? Yes, he is a good-looking man; that I admit, and that is precisely what she is attracted to. But I will not allow her to risk her future over a flirtation with a handsome sailor!”
“Well, hopefully, she will never see him again and forget about him quickly enough. I think it would be best not to make a fuss about it, Fitzwilliam, so please, do not lecture her about honor and duty. It will only inflame her more. Let it pass as quietly as possible. We have the Sandford ball coming up in a few weeks and the Jamison's a week later. These parties should distract her and perhaps she will meet some wonderful young man who will erase any lingering regrets of this encounter.”
“I sincerely hope so, my love,” he said, lifting her off the chair and onto his lap. He caressed her cheeks and gently nibbling on her already swollen lower lip, murmured, “Now tell me how you have been feeling since I've been away.”
Chapter Three
Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. There was no way to hide her ever-expanding tummy. Deep inside, she knew that she was very beautiful when pregnant, but it was customary for a lady in her condition to complain about her figure, and there was no doubt that it was becoming increasingly difficult to find gowns that were flattering. She was at that awkward stage when she was not yet showing very much, and no one outside her family knew she was with child, but she was definitely getting thick around the middle and her swollen breasts made it impossible for her to wear the evening attire she already owned. So here she was, being fitted for some new gowns that would allow her to accompany Georgiana and Fitzwilliam to the next set of balls and parties of the Season. In truth, she would much prefer to stay at home, but she understood her husband's dread of having to face alone, the fawning mothers of the anxious young men who were trying to gain his sister's favor. And now that she was feeling well again, she could not deprive him of her company and support. Besides, she liked being able to put a face to the name of the man that Georgie was rejecting this week.
Georgiana was becoming impatient as the seamstress hurried off yet again to make some minor alteration. They had already spent two hours in this shop, and although she normally adored her shopping expeditions with Elizabeth, she was becoming tired and restless. “Elizabeth,” she said suddenly. “I did want to shop for a book for Fitzwilliam today and as it is getting rather late, I thought I might go to the book sellers next door and save us some time. You must be exhausted and quite ready to go home. If you come and get me when you are done here, we can be on our way that much sooner. Would that be all right?”
Elizabeth thought for a moment. She didn't think that Fitzwilliam would not allow Georgiana to go into a shop unaccompanied, but the thought of having to stand on her feet, for even another half hour, while Georgiana chose a gift, was enough to convince her. “I don't see why not, Georgie. I don't think that this can take much longer, so try to find something quickly. I really am very weary.”
Georgiana kissed her sister and happily hurried out to start her search. When she entered the shop, the proprietor, Mr. Finley, was busy with another customer, but noticing her entrance, gave a quick nod and smile. The Darcys were such good customers and he always tried to attend them as quickly as possible.
Georgiana wandered over to the section that contained books on history and politics and began looking over the titles of the books labeled “new”. Retrieving a handwritten list from her reticule, she compared the titles written on it to the ones on the shelf. She was so intent on her search that she didn't notice the admiring eyes that were closely following her every movement.
He had not looked up when the jingle of the bell had announced the entrance of another customer, but the rustling of her skirts as she came around the free standing stacks distracted him, and he looked up just in time to see her open her reticule and pull out a folded sheet of paper as she continued along the shelves. He slipped round the end of the stack and peered through a gap between volumes unnoticed.
“Don't be a fool!” thought Horatio, “ Darcy certainly made his feelings clear before he hurried her off the ship! If you approach her, there'll be nothing but trouble,” He turned his back and focused again on the book in his hand, but his ears remained alert to her faint whispers as she read off the titles and the soft brush of her fingers as they swept along the books' bindings.
“Ah, Miss Darcy, forgive me for neglecting you for so long. It has been such a busy afternoon. Pray tell me how I can serve you. If you are in this section, I assume that you looking to purchase a book for your brother,” said the proprietor.
“Yes, you are quite right, Mr. Finley. I am looking for anything on the Napoleonic campaigns that he has not yet read. Unfortunately, I believe that he already owns all the titles I see here. Is there anything new that you can recommend - something that perhaps you have not yet put out on the shelves?”
“Allow me to check a delivery that just came in today, Miss Darcy. I'll only take a few moments. Perhaps we will be in luck,” he replied and excusing himself, hurried into the back room.
Turning to thank Mr. Finley, Georgiana noticed a tall gentleman with his back to her at the end of the aisle. There was something familiar about his stance and……yes, the long brown curls tied back in a black ribbon! It had to be him! The mere thought of him brought a deep blush to her cheeks and she turned away to hide her face, lest he turn and notice her. How confusing and disturbing these feelings were! She didn't quite understand what happened to her whenever she thought of him; it was exciting and terrifying at the same time. She had the strongest desire to be close to him, to ………. My G-d, what was she thinking? She had to stop!
The shop proprietor returned with several volumes under his arm, but none were new to the voracious reading appetite of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Georgiana expressed her disappointment and was about to leave when Horatio stepped forward with his hat in his hand and an anxious grin. “Good afternoon Miss Darcy. Please forgive me, but I could not help but overhear your request for a book on the campaigns for your brother. May I be of service?” The warmth of his smile and the steadiness of his gaze intoxicated her.
He carefully scrutinized her countenance to see how she took his interference, and seeing her shy smile, continued more confidently. “I have recently read a novel written by a Spanish partisan, using a “nom de plume”, of course, about the Salamanca Campaign that I thought truly excellent. I believe he wrote it as a work of fiction for his own protection, but the story rings true to every account I have heard of it first hand. And, it is written from a Spaniard's point of view, which provides a new and interesting perspective. It is called “El Mirador”. If you are interested in seeing it, I believe I noticed a copy displayed in the window.”
“Oh, that is just the sort of book I have been looking for! Yes, thank you Mr. H. I do so appreciate your kind suggestion.” She met his eyes for a brief moment, just long enough for him to recognize the tender feelings they betrayed. Deeply affected, he lowered his glance, afraid he'd be unable to conceal the depths of his own emotions and draw them into something they would not be permitted to continue. Georgiana saw his distress and turned away.
Mr. Finley found a copy of “El Mirador” and placed it in Georgiana's hands. “I can't imagine why I didn't think of this one myself, Miss Darcy. My apologies.” Then turning to Horatio, asked, “Forgive me Sir, but I was led to believe that this book was released by the publisher only two days ago. Do you already own a copy?”
“Oh, I read the Spanish edition when it came out last year, Sir. I was very pleased when I saw it translated into English,” replied Horatio.
“Ah, I see. Well, thank you for the suggestion, Sir. On your passionate recommendation, I shall read it myself.”
Horatio nodded to the proprietor and turning to Miss Darcy expressed his hope that her brother would enjoy the novel. He bowed to her and slowly straightening, gave her a weak smile before retreating back into the stacks. She stood staring at him until Mr. Finley's voice startled her out of her momentary reverie.
“May I wrap this for you, Miss Darcy?”
“Oh yes, thank you Mr. Finley. Please do. And please do not put it on our account. As it is a gift, I shall pay for it now.”
When Elizabeth entered the shop, Georgiana was at the counter paying for her purchase. She greeted Mr. Finley, who in turn, asked after her health and then asked to be remembered to her husband. Georgiana's eyes were focused on her reticule, and she barely looked up at Elizabeth as she stood beside her. Lowering her head still further, so that her face was hidden by the brim of her bonnet, she took her sister's arm and led her quickly out of the shop, only allowing herself a quick glance at the tall young gentleman who was watching her go.
Elizabeth immediately sensed that something was wrong, and thinking that Georgiana had suffered some embarrassment or worse, hurried her into the carriage. The coachman had barely closed the door when Elizabeth took hold of Georgiana's hand and asked anxiously, “What happened in there, Georgie? Did that young man say anything improper to you? Did he upset you?”
“No, nothing like that! Please believe me; he was the perfect gentleman. He only…..”
“Only what, Georgie? Did he approach you? He had no right to speak to you!….. especially since you were alone. It was most ill mannered of him …..”
“Elizabeth, we are not strangers,” she interrupted. “We have been introduced. It is just that I know Fitzwilliam would not approve of my speaking to him. He only approached me with the thought of being helpful, I assure you. I was having trouble finding a suitable book and he made a wonderful suggestion. That is all.” She lowered her eyes and twisted the handkerchief in her lap.”
“Then why are you so distressed, Georgiana? It is obvious that meeting him has disconcerted you. And why do you think that Fitzwilliam would not approve of your speaking with him?”
Georgiana gave her sister an anxious look. “He is the seaman that was in charge of unloading the China silks. Fitzwilliam and I met him when we boarded the Regalia. But since my brother cannot abide any young man outside our circle smiling at me, he hurried me away and was unnecessarily rude to him! I must tell you that I was mortified, Elizabeth. Sometimes I wish I had never come out into society, for it has made Fitzwilliam so unreasonably overprotective.”
“Well, I certainly know what that feels like! But you do know that he has good reason to be concerned for you. There are many more unscrupulous men out there than we would like to believe. Besides, I do understand his disapproving of a sailor gawking at his beautiful sister. You cannot blame him for that, Georgiana,” she said sweetly, trying to tease a smile out of her.
“I understand his disapproval; I am not completely devoid of sense, Elizabeth. But there was no need to humiliate a perfectly amiable young man who was doing his best to please him. Mr. H. did nothing to deserve such treatment!”
Elizabeth stroked Georgiana's hand sympathetically. She watched her face with concern, but said nothing; for there was really nothing to be said. It was obvious that Georgiana's feelings for this young seaman were deeper than even she realized.
***
Elizabeth adored evenings like this. The children had gone to bed without a fuss, the servants had been dismissed, and the three of them were lounging comfortably in the music room. Georgiana was at the piano, playing for no one's pleasure but her own, she was engrossed in a particularly good novel, and Fitzwilliam was sitting beside her, enjoying his new book. . Every now and then, he would respond to something that he was reading with a sigh, a gasp or an uncharacteristically rude utterance that would make both ladies giggle and exchange knowing glances. His reactions were rather amusing except that they were becoming more and more frequent and pulling her focus away from her story. She shot Georgiana a smile and a roll of her eyes, as he emphasized for the third time his awe and admiration for the men who fought these battles and survived the brutality of war with such dignity.
“Incredible!” he mumbled to himself, his eyes frantically eating up the next page. Then becoming even more animated, he bolted from his seat and cried, “Just listen to this!” and paced before them as he read,
“Rogers was brought back from his ordeal by two of the guards and dropped in a quivering heap before the shackles. He no longer cried out or even moaned, but trembled uncontrollably as they fastened his hands and legs, laughing unmercifully, and giving him one last kick to his ribs before leaving the cell. The sight of his welts and burns were terrifying enough, but it was obvious that they had broken his spirit, the spirit we had depended on to help us escape this very night. The men…..”
“Fitzwilliam, please…..” whispered Elizabeth, nodding in Georgiana's direction with a pained and worried look.
“Forgive me; how insensitive of me. I shouldn't be reading this to you. It is too painful to contemplate. I tell you Elizabeth, I cringe to think what my reaction would be in a situation like this. I cannot imagine having the physical strength, no less the emotional fortitude to survive such an ordeal! My G-d, we owe these men a debt we cannot begin to repay!”
Georgiana looked up from the keyboard to gaze at her brother. She had not told him of the help she had received in selecting the book that now so captivated him, and gratefully, Elizabeth had followed her lead. But suddenly shivering at the memory of Mr. H's scarred back, and watching her brother's passionate display, she wished that she had. She had never questioned Fitzwilliam's wisdom or strength of character, but her mind was lately plagued by disturbing thoughts that cut to the core of her relationship with him. Just as children were stung by the realization that their parents were not all-knowing and good, so was she experiencing, at this late stage of her life, the painful recognition that her dear brother was not always right.
“Do you think that any of the crew members of the Regalia have fought in the war, Fitzwilliam?” she inquired.
“I suppose there may be some, though I doubt they would be free at this time to work on a private vessel, if they had. Certainly, none could have been officers of any rank, as they would have been reassigned by the Admiralty. No, these men probably hire themselves out to any captain who will take them. Although I'm sure there are some that have a personal loyalty to the captain and sail with him again and again.”
“When your book described the torture, I remembered the terrible scars I saw on…..,” she lowered her eyes to the keyboard, and bit her trembling lips.
“Those scars could also be the result of a flogging for disobedience, thievery, or any number of offences, Georgiana. Unfortunately, flogging is one of the ways the Navy maintains discipline. Wounds are not only inflicted by the enemy, you know.” The moment the words had left his lips, he was sorry he had uttered them.
Her brother's implication had not escaped her and she struggled to remain composed. He thought her a naďve and romantic child for assuming that Mr. H. had received his wounds at the hands of the enemy! And he, on the other hand, had immediately concluded that he was a thief! Her anger made it difficult for her to breathe and she rose from the piano taking several measured breaths to calm herself. Then moving quickly towards Elizabeth, she kissed her good night, explaining that she was suddenly very tired and hurried from the room.
Fitzwilliam shook his head in disgust. How could he be so stupid! Forbidden fruit was always the sweetest and he had just dipped the man in honey! He looked up to see Elizabeth's eyes closed and her brow furrowed in distress. “Damnation,” he thought. “Why was it that whenever he offended one of the females of his household, he had to first make peace with the other?”
“Elizabeth, I know that was uncalled for. I'll go and speak to her. But please look at me, my love. I'm not as bad as all that, am I?”
“Oh, no Fitzwilliam; of course not! It is just that she is already so besotted, and you are pushing her straight into his arms!”
“Already so besotted? What makes you say that? Has she spoken to you about him?”
Elizabeth drew in a quick breath, as she realized her dilemma. She did not want to divulge Georgiana's secret, but she would not lie to her husband. She bit her lower lip and looked at him anxiously. “Fitzwilliam,” she began slowly, as she came to stand before him, “There is something I must tell you…., something I should have told you earlier. They met a few days ago when we were out shopping together, but I assure you that their meeting was quite accidental.”
“Then they couldn't have spoken long, and you were there to see what exchanged between them. How did he come to approach her?”
“I…I was not there, Fitzwilliam,” she said, trying desperately to keep her gaze fixed on his.
“You weren't there? What do mean? You said you were shopping together.”
“We were, all afternoon. But Georgiana wanted to purchase that book for you and went next door to Finley's while I dressed and signed for my purchases. We were just trying to save a little time. It was a mistake, Fitzwilliam -- that's obvious now, but she was in the bookshop by herself for only ten minutes. I should not have let her go; I know that. Please do not be angry with her. I alone am to blame.” It was the first time in their five years together that she was afraid of his reaction. Not only had she been negligent in Georgiana's care, but she had kept it from him as well.
He turned from her and strode to the mantle to collect his thoughts. The involuntary shaking of his head, his erratic breathing and the grim lines that framed his mouth were painful evidence of his attempt to control his anger. She braced herself for his reply and waited. Moment after moment went by and still he said nothing. His shoulders heaved as he exhaled loudly, but he did not turn or utter a word. When his silence became too much for her to bear, she quietly left the room.
She ascended the stairs to their apartment, suddenly unsure if he would want her in their bed. Trembling at the thought, she grasped the banister and turned, ready to run back down and force him to deal with her. But the silence that pervaded the house was unnerving and she stood transfixed for some time, unsure of where she belonged. Finally, she made her way slowly towards her own bedchamber.
She rarely entered it from the hallway and as she was about to turn the knob she was struck by the magnitude of what she was about to do. For five years she had shared her husband's bed and only used her own for resting during the day. Her entering it alone for the night symbolized a painful change for her marriage. With her hand frozen on the knob, she broke into uncontrollable sobs and crumbled to the floor before the unopened door.
The unmistakable feel of his arm beneath her knees, drawing her up against his chest only intensified her weeping. But the sound of Georgiana's frightened voice and the panicked entreaties of her maid caused her to try to stifle her fitful gasps and sobs. Fitzwilliam was sweeping her into their bedchamber, ordering everyone back to bed, while assuring them that he would see to his wife's welfare.
Through a blur of tears, she saw Georgiana's tear stained face just before he pushed the door shut behind him. “What have I done?” she thought, now even more frightened than before. “My outburst has terrified Georgiana and humiliated Fitzwilliam in front of the servants.” She dared not look at him as he lay her gently on the bed.
“Elizabeth, my love, sh…. it is all right now, I am here,” he soothed, searching her anguished face. He lovingly smoothed her now disheveled hair from her face and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “What has happened, Elizabeth?” he asked, his pale face and frightened eyes piercing her heart. He seemed totally unaware that his behavior had driven her to such misery. “Why were you at your bedroom door just now?” he asked, looking bewildered. Then suddenly, his countenance darkened as the answer came to him. “Where you leaving our bed, Elizabeth?” he asked in horror. “Were you going to shut me out tonight?”
“No, dear G-d, no! Never! But you were so angry with me that I was unsure that you wanted me…….” her voice trailed off.
“Not want you? Not want you in our bed? That is unimaginable! How could you even think it? I was upset, I grant you, but more with myself than with you, Elizabeth. What did I do to make you question my love for you?“
“Nothing! I didn't question your love or devotion for one second,” she assured him hastily, “but…your silence Fitzwilliam --- you would not look at me or answer me and I was sure that you were blaming me for their unfortunate meeting. And to keep it from you -- when I knew how you felt about him - was inexcusable.”
“Oh my precious love, you misread me entirely. I was thrashing about some painful thoughts, with no regard to you. I'm sorry, so very sorry! I am not angry with you. You did nothing that both Mrs. Annesley and I have not done many times before. Finley's would normally have been the safest of situations and you had no reason not to let her go.” He bent over to kiss her and looked lovingly at her face. “I would, of course, have preferred for you to inform me of their meeting, but I imagine that Georgiana begged you not to betray the confidence. I recognize that you are often in a difficult position between the two of us, Elizabeth.”
“No, Fitzwilliam you are wrong. She asked nothing of the sort. I simply took it upon myself to keep her secret. I feel so foolish and ashamed now for jumping to such conclusions. Why is it that after five years of such unquestionable happiness I can still misinterpret your moods? Please forgive me, Fitzwilliam, please. It is too painful when we are at odds with each other.”
“We are not at odds, my love. Are we? We both want what is best for Georgie and the truth is that we are equally powerless to help her achieve it. Ever since I whisked her off that deck, I have been plagued by the thought that I am turning into my aunt Catherine! I have questioned my motives, my prejudices - even my possible jealousy! But I always come back to the one simple truth that has nothing to do with rank or money or connections. He is a sailor. He loves the sea. And he will never be a proper husband to her because he will never be there when she needs him! That is what I was agonizing over just now in the music room.” He gazed beseechingly at her. “Am I so wrong to want for her the life we so enjoy? Where will he be when she labors to bring his child into the world? Or when his child has a high fever or …is learning to walk? And what of Georgiana herself? Who will sit beside her at dinner, or listen to her play her favorite sonata? How can he be right for her, Elizabeth? She will have to share him with the sea.”
“I know that, Fitzwilliam. And I think she knows it as well. She has said things that indicate she is not insensitive to this. Besides, aren't you being a little hasty to think about marriage?”
“You didn't see his face the moment her saw her. It was the same look I saw in my mirror whenever I thought about you,” he replied.
Stroking the curls on the back of his head, she drew him down to her and held him close. “Then you are certainly right about our being helpless,” she said softly in his ear. “For if she loves him just a fraction as much as I love you, there will be no logical or sensible reason that will keep her from his side.”
Fitzwilliam Darcy kissed his wife. He slowly undressed her, removed his own clothing and slipped into bed beside her. Settling in that place that brought him such comfort, he forced himself to remain awake until he heard the steady, peaceful rhythm of her breathing, and only then, allowed himself to drift off to asleep.
***
Georgiana lay in the same rigid position she had first assumed upon entering her bed. Her fear prevented her from relaxing even one muscle as she listened intently for sounds of further distress. The vision of Elizabeth sunk to the ground, her body racked by sobs and uncontrollable trembling, would not leave her. What had her infatuation for this man done to her beloved family? She did not know precisely what had passed between them, but surely she was to blame for the argument that had ensued. She had been a coward, leaving Elizabeth to answer for her behavior and probably much more. But what had her brother said to send his wife to her own bedchamber in such a state? Surely he had not…..no it was impossible! Had he not immediately carried her to their own room and tried to soothe her? Despite Fitzwilliam's insistence that she return to her room, Georgiana had remained in the hallway once the door had closed, and listened to their muffled voices long enough to assure herself that Elizabeth was finding comfort in her brother's care.
And now, with the house still again, she could finally focus on what it was she had to do. It was so simple really. She had to forget that he existed -- forget every tender thought she had ever had concerning him. For he was not a suitable match for her, even she knew that, and her interest in him was causing strife between the two people she loved most in the world. What did she really know about him anyway?
She felt a gradual easing of the tension in her back as she rolled onto her side and allowed her mind to drift back to that day on the Regalia. He had been left with the responsibility of repacking and shipping the cargo. Obviously the captain thought him a most honest and responsible man. He had clearly been the one in charge of the ship and crew and yet she had felt no resentment from the men under his command. The atmosphere had been friendly and respectful on both sides. He had helped with the negotiations of the trade, and spoke several languages. He was a reading man, with an interest in many things. The book that he had held in his hand at Finley's was of a scientific nature, she had noticed.
But most importantly, he had an innate sensitivity for what was required at the moment, and with each person he was addressing. He had shown great patience, good manners and restraint when dealing with her brother, in spite of what he must have been feeling. His responses to her had always been warm and open, genuinely polite and more than respectful; caring, actually. He made everyone feel at ease, even Finley, when he was able to make a recommendation that the proprietor had not thought of. And unfortunately, he knew his place in society and accepted it; for had he not shown her that despite his admiration for her, he knew he had to acquiesce to her brother's wishes? No, she knew nothing of him and he was not a suitable match. He was simply all she wanted. But she would have to forget him. The happiness of five people depended on it.