Pride at Sea

By Kate F.

Beginning, Section II

Prologue

Posted on Tuesday, 24 July 2001

"Mr. Gardiner, I'd like you to meet Liz Bennet. Liz, have you read Mr. Gardiner's case file?"

Liz shook Mr. Gardiner's hand, then turned to her employer. "Yes, I have, Mr. Lucas. I'm not sure why you need me, though. Wouldn't it be better to have someone from the islands?"

"Oh, I will," replied Mr. Gardiner. "But since the party in question is a US citizen, I want to make sure his rights are protected. No grounds for appeal, you understand."

"I still think this is a job for a PI, not a lawyer."

"Yes, I have a very good private investigator on retainer, but I need you as well. Bill Lucas assures me that you will handle this with grace and tact. And the setting will certainly be pleasant. Try to think of it as a working vacation."

Liz was tempted to point out that "working vacation" was an oxymoron. Instead she said, "So when do I get to meet your PI?"

"Unfortunately, he's busy wrapping up some other cases, so you won't meet him until you sail next week."

"Right," said Mr. Lucas. "So, Liz, you'll need to spend your time this week organizing someone to handle your cases while you're away."

"Yes, I'll also have to figure out what to pack."

"Ah, yes, Ms. Bennet," nodded Mr. Gardiner. "This ship is a bit formal. I've set up a line of credit for you at Sak's. My daughter Jane would be happy to go shopping with you. She's been on the Pride before and knows what you'll need. Here's her number. Call her and set up a time to meet."

"I hate to take up her time."

"Don't worry about it. The expression 'born to shop' was invented for my elder daughter! Seriously, Jane is a personal stylist. She'll get you set up in no time."

"I don't know, Jane. This is awfully expensive."

"Liz, will you just look in the mirror? It's perfect. It would be a crime NOT to take this one. Red is a great color on you."

"But we've already spent so much. I mean, I really didn't need all new underwear and nighties. I feel like I'm buying a trousseau!"

"Well, the Pride isn't the 'Love Boat,' but you never know," laughed Jane as she went over her checklist. "I think we're done. Let's celebrate!"

Over coffee, but no cake-Liz was conscious of fitting into her new wardrobe-Jane told Liz a bit more about what to expect on her cruise, how to avoid the worst calorie traps and how to deal with "motion on the ocean."

"Will it really be rough?"

"Probably not, and the Pride rides very well. She was built in the days of ocean liners, so she's quite stable. Anyhow, if the sea does get rough, get yourself to the middle of the ship where there is less motion. Take deep breaths and try to relax. If you're in your cabin, do not, I repeat NOT turn your TV to the channel that shows the view from the bridge. You will not want to watch the horizon dancing up and down."

"Why the middle of the ship?"

"It's something about physics. My sister Charlotte could explain it-she aced physics. All I remember is something about a seesaw. I just know that the best cabins, in terms of stable ride at least, are near the middle."

"Thanks for the tips. I hope I'll turn out to be a good sailor. Jane," Liz hesitated a bit, "What can you tell me about your cousin?"

"Well, she's 17 and has made some unfortunate choices in friends. She refuses to listen to Charlotte's advice about making a prudent match, says that's too boring. And she doesn't like me, either."

"Not like you, Jane? Impossible!"

"Mostly it's because I'm older and never did anything 'cool,' like get expelled from boarding school. And her father uses me as a good example too often, so she resents me."

"What a shame."

"Yes, she's determined to be different. So I guess you can see how she'd be taken in by a handsome charmer who offers a good time."

"Hmm. All I can say is that if I had a sister, I'd want her to be just like you. I've really enjoyed chatting with you, but I have to get back to the office. Will you come to the ship with your father to see us off?"

"I hope to."

"Good. See you then, and thanks a million for the help. If shopping were an Olympic sport, you'd get the gold medal for sure!"

Chapter 1

Posted on Tuesday, 24 July 2001

Liz looked around her cabin. She tried the bed, which seemed comfortable. From her window, she could see the pier. Luggage was being tossed onto a conveyor belt that ran into the side of the ship. She winced as she considered the possibility of her luggage missing the conveyor belt and ending up in the Hudson River. She smiled as she thought of Jane. In addition to all that clothing, Jane had ordered new luggage and then helped Liz to pack everything into it.

Since her luggage wouldn't be delivered for a few hours (fingers crossed and don't think about the river!), Liz decided to explore the ship for a while. Edward Gardiner must have pulled some strings to get their group on board early. They would be meeting at 1:00, but until then she wanted to check out the open decks.

Liz walked along the Promenade Deck to the front of the ship. The bow of the Austen Pride pointed toward 48th Street. It seemed strange to be standing on the deck of a cruise ship and watching traffic flow along 12th Avenue.

Turning to walk to the stern, Liz spotted a tall, dark-haired man leaning on the rail and looking up the river toward the George Washington Bridge. Was that him? Liz paused, trying to think of something to say when a gust of wind blew her straw hat into the air.

"Oh!" yelped Liz, and the man turned toward her. With lightning fast reflexes, he extended his arm and caught the hat.

"Oh," said Liz, softly this time. She had seen the catch out of the corner of her eye. Her main focus was on his face. His eyes were absolutely mesmerizing.

He held out the hat. "You won't be able to wear this on deck while we're at sea, you know. Don't believe all the pictures you see in the brochure. It gets windy out here once we're moving."

Years of debate in high school and college, moot court in law school, and courtroom experience as a lawyer had taught Liz to think and speak on her feet. For the first time in many years, she was speechless. Say something, she scolded herself.

"Thank you. I, uh, a friend talked me into this. She said it was worthy of Bette Davis in 'Now Voyager.'" Good one, Lizzy, like this guy would know a classic chick flick!

"Ah, and are your wings borrowed, too, Miss...?"

Liz's eyes widened in surprise at the reference to one of her favorite movies. "Beauchamps," she murmured, then louder, "Bennet, Liz Bennet. I can't believe you caught the allusion to such an old 'three-hankie' movie!"

"It was one of my mother's favorites." Then, as if a door closed, the relaxed countenance was replaced by an unreadable mask. "Please excuse me, I have to meet someone."

Liz stared as he walked away. Great walk, she thought. Long stride, broad shoulders, nice...She stopped herself from continuing. However interesting he might look, he was not her quarry. Anyhow, he hadn't even bothered to introduce himself.

Chapter 2

Posted on Friday, 27 July 2001

Fitz Darcy strode along the deck toward the stern. He hadn't thought about that movie for years. What was the line his mother had loved? Something about the moon and stars. But he never could remember which they had and which they reached for. Stay in the present. Don't let the past get to you.

He shook his head. What were Gardiner and Lucas thinking? She wasn't at all the right type. If she was supposed to be the bait, the trap would never work.

Liz sat in her cabin and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the desk. Could she really do this? If what happened on deck could be considered a trial run, she didn't think so. Even with no other women around as competition, she hadn't been able to hold the interest of the tall stranger. She couldn't see herself attracting the attention of a notorious womanizer once the ship was full of young, pretty women. Oh well. Time to go. Chin up, shoulders back. Look like you're in control and you're halfway there.

As she reached the door to the room that had been reserved for the meeting, Liz heard the tall stranger's rich baritone proclaim, "... completely inappropriate choice. She is tolerable, I suppose, but not flashy enough to tempt George. Really, Gardiner..." he broke off as the door opened.

Liz walked into the room and greeted Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Lucas. Standing with them were the tall stranger and a young man with curly blond hair and a pleasant face. From the mildly embarrassed expressions on the four faces, Liz suspected that she was the "inappropriate choice" under discussion.

"Liz," said Mr. Lucas warmly, "I'd like you to meet Fitz Darcy and his associate, Charles Bingley. Gentlemen, Ms Elizabeth Bennet."

"So, Mr. Darcy, you're Mr. Gardiner's PI?"

"Private investigator, yes."

Why does he have to act so superior? "So what's the plan?" she asked in a voice that sounded bolder than she felt.

Mr. Lucas began to explain, "The plan is to watch George Wickham and be ready to maneuver him into position for the authorities to arrest him. Liz, you will have to catch Mr. Wickham's eye and become friendly with him. He has a reputation for a taste for pretty ladies, so I'm sure he'll notice you."

Charles Bingley smiled and nodded in agreement. But Fitz Darcy-did she notice a roll of those deep brown eyes? Arrogant b*****d!

"The attracting part I know how to do," Liz said with a slightly raised eyebrow in Fitz's direction. "But what's the maneuvering part?"

Mr. Gardiner picked up the thread of the explanation. "Charles and I will be in contact with Fitz, so we'll know when Wickham is in a vulnerable position. I think the private island is the perfect stop to do this, but we're double-checking on the legality of an arrest on private property."

"And how do I stay informed? If I'm supposed to spend time with Wickham, how do I contact Mr. Darcy without seeming suspicious?"

"That won't be a problem, Ms Bennet," replied Fitz. "We can take care of the attracting part and the contact part in the same way. I will appear to pursue you. I've known George Wickham for years, and I know that anything I go after, he'll want. So all you have to do is talk to me when our paths cross. For starters, we'll try an approach of 'I'm interested, you're not.' He'll probably find that intriguing. If that doesn't work, you'll begin to show an interest in me, and that should make up his mind."

"If you're so sure that your involvement will clinch things, it strikes me that any woman would be an appropriate choice for the role." Ha! Gotcha Fitz Darcy, PI!

Damn! She HAD overheard. If she's going to be prickly like this, it will just make everything more difficult. "I think you are willfully misunderstanding me, Ms Bennet. George and I have rather a long history. He has always taken delight in sabotaging my relationships. So you see, if I show an interest in you, he will also, even if you're not his type."

"And his type would be?"

"Young, naive, easily led astray. Money is always a plus. Sorry Mr. Gardiner, no offense to your niece intended, but that is his pattern."

"No offense taken, young man. Lydia is silly, over-indulged, and has never given a thought to the consequences of her actions."

"Oh, Father, that's a bit unkind." Jane Gardiner entered the room. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled and her suit looked expensive. A classic, cool blonde thought Fitz. An angel! thought Bingley.

After introductions were made, they sat down to lunch and Fitz continued his explanation. "George is basically a predator. He has two standard courses of action with women. He promises the lively silly ones fun and the dreamy naive ones romance. Now, Ms Bennet, you're a lawyer. You have experience in dealing with people. You're hardly likely to fit into either of his categories."

Liz replied, "Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy. You don't have to be 15 to dream of finding true love." She was too busy with her shrimp salad to notice that he winced, so she went on. "Perhaps I'll try the 'incurable romantic' approach. I'll let him think I believe what I see in the brochures."

"Capital! Capital! Sounds like we have a plan!" cried Mr. Lucas. "Fitz, why don't you take Liz on a tour of the ship? Wickham won't be boarding until about an hour before sailing, so you'll have some time to work out strategies. Bon voyage, you two!"

Liz gave Jane a hug and said, "I wish you were coming with me."

"Me too, but Dad says no. Can't have too many people associated with George showing up in the same place. I'll fly down to the island with Dad and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley seems very nice, don't you think?"

"At least he's friendly. I am not looking forward to having to act all flirty with Mr. Serious over there."

"Give him a chance, Liz. Dad says he's the best at what he does, and I get the impression that he has some kind of personal stake in this."

"Yeah, revenge for the girlfriends Wickham stole from him"

"I think it's more than that. Oh, we have to leave. Be careful with Wickham, Liz. And try to have fun. Maybe Mr. Serious will lighten up when you get out to sea!"

Chapter 3

Posted on Friday, 27 July 2001

"And this is the Neptune Room. I think it's the most beautiful public room on the ship. It's a homage to the elegant rooms of the great ocean liners."

"It's lovely." Statues of King Neptune and wall sconces shaped like giant clamshells decorated the room. Sea-green carpet and upholstery, sand-colored tables and walls, and a pale sky-blue ceiling made Liz feel as if she was floating in the sea.

"They serve afternoon tea in here," Fitz told her. "Scones, cucumber sandwiches, the whole thing."

"Marvelous! I love 'proper' tea."

"We should go back to our cabins and unpack. Shall I meet you here at 4:00 for tea?"

Fitz walked her back toward the middle of the ship and a bank of elevators. Only one was available for passengers to use, as the rest were being used to move luggage. Fitz noticed Liz's wide-eyed expression when she saw a pile of luggage in one of the elevators.

"It takes hours to get everything to its proper location. Nobody packs light for a cruise. Ah, here's an elevator we can use." They stepped into the car and Fitz hit the buttons for Decks 1 and 2.

The elevator doors opened on Deck 1. "My cabin is just there. Yours is on Deck 2, roughly below mine. We're both near the D stairs and elevator, so it should be easy to leave notes or visit in person as the case develops. Mr. Gardiner thought that neighboring cabins on the same deck might look too much like a coincidence. But nobody notices if cabins are vertical neighbors."

When she arrived at her cabin, Liz found that her suitcases had been placed on the beds. She unpacked everything, eager to check that her dresses weren't too wrinkled. She thought of Jane again when she noticed how well the clothing had been packed. If she hadn't had Jane's help, she might have spent the entire cruise looking like an accordion!

After she finished unpacking, Liz went to the Promenade deck for a stroll. Earlier, the deck had been empty. Now it was filling with passengers checking out the ship and waving to friends on the pier. Once again, Liz realized that Mr. Gardiner must have serious "pull" to arrange for them to board early and have a private lunch in a meeting room.

As she rounded the corner, she remembered to clamp her hand on her hat. She thought about Fitz Darcy. On deck, he had been friendly, even slightly flirty, until she had introduced herself. What had happened then? Perhaps he knew her name in advance and found her to be a disappointment in some way? Was he annoyed that she was acting friendly toward a stranger when she had a job to do? Don't let him get to you, she scolded herself.

Fitz closed the door to the closet and slipped the empty suitcase under the bed. The cabin looked comfortable enough. Twin beds, he noticed. Well, he didn't think they'd have to pretend to be sleeping together just to get Wickham's attention. He stared blankly out the window and found himself wondering if Liz's cabin was configured the same way.

Shake out of it! This is a job! No time for entanglements! Remember why you're here. His gaze fell on the photograph by his bed. "This is for you, Sweetie," he murmured, and headed up for tea.

Chapter 4

Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001

Liz was there ahead of him, wearing that straw hat. He stopped to look at her as she smiled at a waiter. She really does look like a picture from a brochure. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them, she was looking at him.

"Mr. Darcy."

"Ms Bennet. Great hat."

"Not seaworthy, perhaps, but I'm becoming quite fond of it."

"Definitely not seaworthy, but perfect for afternoon tea." And perfect on you.

"I probably should be wearing white gloves."

He leaned back in his seat and smiled at her, "No, the waiters do that."

Omigod! Look at those dimples! Rendered speechless once again, Liz was saved by one of the white-gloved waiters carrying a pot of tea.

"Tea, miss? Sir?"

"Yes, thank you." Liz turned to Fitz, "Mr. Darcy, I ordered Darjeeling, is that OK?"

"Yes, it's fine. And I think we should be on a first-name basis. If, at some point, George should hear us talking, 'Mr. Darcy' and 'Ms Bennet' would sound too businesslike and we don't want him to become suspicious. So you should call me Fitz. And you're Liz, right?"

"Yes, short for Elizabeth, of course."

"Elegant name. My great-great, oh, I forget how many greats, grandmother was called Elizabeth."

Just then, another waiter showed up with a tray of finger sandwiches-salmon, ham, egg salad, and cucumber. The crusts had been cut off, and the sandwiches were arranged neatly in rows.

"Cucumber sandwiches!" exclaimed Liz. "I love these!"

Fitz smiled again. "Cucumber sandwiches always remind me of 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' I love it when Algernon's manservant says that there were no cucumbers to be had at the market, not even..."

"...for ready money!" chimed in Liz. "I always imagined that tea with Lady Bracknell would be an ordeal."

"Oh, I don't know-I have an aunt who could give Lady Bracknell a run for her money."

Fitz gazed out the window and Liz studied his profile. Hmm, interesting. He quotes Oscar Wilde and knows classic chick flicks. Wait a minute-no, no, he can't be. Anyhow, what does it matter, this is a job and you won't see him after it's over.

Fitz's voice snapped her back to attention. "Liz? Do you want a scone or some cake?"

"Oh, yes, a scone, thanks." When the waiter had left their table, she asked. "So, do you have any ideas about how I make initial contact with Wickham?"

"Easy. You and George have the same lifeboat station. You can catch his eye during lifeboat drill."

"You guys really did think of everything, didn't you?"

"We tried to, anyway."

"How did you get him on this ship?"

"Mr. Gardiner arranged to make it look as if George won the cruise. George's previous employer cooperated on the scheme."

"And the cruise line? Does Austen Cruise Line know what's going on?"

"I believe Mr. Gardiner has a friend at Austen, and his friend helped set things up. The Chief Security Officer knows, too, as does the Captain."

Their conversation was interrupted by a long blast of the ship's horn, followed by several shorter blasts.

Liz jumped at the sound.

Fitz laughed. "It gets your attention, doesn't it? Right, time for you to head to your lifeboat drill. I will not be there. I'd rather George not see me just yet. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Chapter 5

Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001

"What's your lifeboat station?"

"Eight"

"Louder!"

"EIGHT!"

"OK!" Carrie, who introduced herself as Assistant Cruise Director, grinned at the passengers as they tried to tie their life vests properly. "In the unlikely event of an emergency, you will line up here. Children and shorter adults in the front, please. The lifeboat will be lowered and the crewmembers assigned to this station will help you into it. Not that we expect this to happen, you understand. But it's important that you know what to do, just in case."

Carrie walked along the lines of passengers, showing them the correct way to tie the tapes on the life vests. Liz had managed to get into line beside George Wickham. She had taken a brief look at him as Carrie had given her speech. He seemed to be checking out the young woman, looking her over, but not listening to what she was saying.

Liz tapped George on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but you're losing your whistle."

"What?"

"Your whistle is dangling. It should be in this little pocket, see?" And she tucked the emergency whistle into place.

"Thanks. Are you some sort of life vest expert?"

"No," she laughed, "just an observant passenger. I'm Liz Bennet."

"George Wickham. Have you cruised before?"

"Just once when I was in college, but on a very different ship. You know college kids, fun, fun, fun. The Pride has a reputation for being more formal. I'm really looking forward to this."

Their conversation was interrupted by the Captain's voice on the loudspeaker. He welcomed the passengers on behalf of Austen Cruise Line, explained some safety regulations, and wished everyone a Bon Voyage.

When the drill ended, George followed Carrie. Liz sighed. Young and perky, he's running true to form.

Chapter 6

Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001

The dockworkers pulled the lines free, and the Pride backed into the Hudson River. Liz leaned on the rail and watched New York slip by. She held her camera ready as she waited to catch the sunlight glinting off the spire of the Chrysler Building. Her concentration was broken by Fitz's rich baritone.

"So?"

"Not a nibble. He's chasing a girl from the Cruise Director's staff."

"Have another go. Here he comes." Fitz disappeared into the crowd. Liz moved to a spot where George was sure to see her.

"Excuse me, miss. Can you help me find lifeboat station 8?"

Liz smiled into the friendly face of George Wickham and said, "You don't think that we need to abandon ship already?"

"You never know. I figure if I stick with you, I may get to sit next to you in the lifeboat. Have you looked at the daily program? What time is dinner?"

"It depends on your dining room. I'm in the Longborne Dining Room, and dinner starts at 6:30."

"Oh, I'm in the Meryton Dining Room, first seating."

"I think that's at 6:00."

"That's too bad." George looked disappointed. "I had hoped that we might have dinner together."

"Sorry."

"Well, then, how about an after dinner drink?"

"OK. I did a little exploring earlier and saw a nice bar on Upper Deck. It's somebody's corner or some name like that. It's not far from the Library, near the E elevators. Met me there, say, nine-ish?"

"You bet, Liz. See ya!"

Liz watched him walk away, checking his reflection in the windows. Arrogant swagger, she thought, as if he fancied himself a pirate. Not at all like Darcy's casually confident stride.

Liz took a few more pictures of the Statue of Liberty and then watched as the ship sailed under the Verazzano Narrows Bridge. It looked as if the communications mast would hit the bridge. Actually, it cleared by a large margin, but the illusion of a near collision was impressive. Liz checked her watch. They had been under way for almost an hour. Time to freshen up for dinner.

Chapter 7

Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001

Liz entered the dining room and was greeted by the Maitre D'. She gave him the card that showed her table number. While he summoned a waiter to escort her to her table, she scanned the room. The entrance was a few steps above the dining room, which gave her a good view. Large round tables filled the center of the room, with smaller ones at the edges. The tables were set with white linen and cream-colored china. The silver and crystal gleamed in the light from the setting sun pouring in through large windows. The chairs were covered in a rose pink fabric and the flowers on the tables matched the pink perfectly.

She still hadn't spotted Fitz when the waiter arrived. "Good evening, Miss, this way please. Mind the steps."

The waiter led Liz to a table for two near a window and pulled out her chair. "Here you are, miss. Table 62."

Fitz looked up from his menu. He stood as Liz smiled at the waiter and sat down. The waiter handed Liz a menu and left.

"Fitz."

"Liz."

"Sorry, I've kept you waiting."

"A lady's prerogative," he smiled.

"I must confess that I got a little lost. I couldn't find the entrance. It's sort of in between decks, almost like a split-level house."

"You must have taken the stairs. The elevator stops right outside."

"Yes, so I discovered after it was too late!" She glanced at the menu. "Hmm, the Captain's Welcome Dinner. What a lot of choices! Is the dinner menu always like this?"

"This is pretty typical. There are usually several hot appetizers, cold appetizers, a few soups, and then the entrees. You can generally expect a pasta, a vegetarian, a beef, a poultry, a seafood, and one other, such as lamb or veal."

"I love shrimp cocktail. What's 'Marie Rose' sauce, I wonder?"

"It's sort of like Russian dressing. Later in the week it will show up with lobster as Cardinal sauce."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been on the Pride several times, and it has become a family joke that the same dressing shows up with a variety of aliases."

"OK, since you know the food so well, what do you recommend?"

"The beef is always excellent, and they will cook it to the degree of doneness you request. They have a fine variety of seafood as a rule, too. I don't think I've ever had a disappointing meal on this ship, although one night my mother didn't like the coq au vin for some reason. It tasted funny. She and my sister Gina could not figure out what was wrong with the seasoning, and they giggled over it all through dinner." His voiced trailed off, as he became lost in his thoughts.

Liz watched as Fitz gazed out the window. She was about to say something when the waiters approached their table.

"Good evening, I'm John and this is Camille. We'll be serving you this week. Can we answer any questions about the menu?"

"Liz? Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, I'll have the shrimp cocktail, the consommé, and the grilled snapper."

"Would you like a sorbet before your entrée?"

"Oh, yes please."

"And you, sir?"

"I'll have the same. And please send the wine steward over."

"Very good, sir."

Fitz looked over the wine selections. He quickly found something he'd like, and was about to order it when he realized he knew nothing about her taste in wine. "Is white wine all right, Liz? They have a chardonnay that I can recommend."

"Chardonnay is good for me, as long as it isn't too sweet."

"Then you'll like this. I think some of the best California chardonnays come from the Carneros region of Napa Valley. This one is especially nice, and not too sweet."

"Good, if it's too sweet it overpowers the Milk Tray."

"What?"

"Don't say 'what,' Fitz, say 'pardon'." She started to giggle. He stared at her.

"Sorry, I don't know what brought that on. Just having a Bridget moment, I guess."

"A what?"

At that moment, Camille arrived with rolls and butter. Liz couldn't resist asking, "Camille, do you know who drinks Chardonnay with Cadbury's Milk Tray?"

Camille grinned, "Of course! Bridget Jones!"

John arrived with their appetizers. Fitz decided that two could play this game. "John, do you know who Bridget Jones is?"

"No sir, I'm sorry. Is she a passenger or a crew member?"

Liz burst out laughing, and Camille shook her head as she and John left to serve another table.

"I give up, Liz. Who is Bridget Jones?"

"Where have you been, Fitz? Bridget Jones's Diary? Everyone has been reading it."

"Oh, right, that book. My sister loved it. She literally laughed out loud reading it. For a while she went around talking without using personal pronouns, which was very disturbing. And she learned the most dreadful expletive from it."

Liz laughed again, "Wonderful expression. I save it for times of great duress and people of extraordinary stupidity."

Fitz shook his head as the wine steward approached with the bottle of chardonnay. "I'm sorry sir, is this not what you ordered?"

"No, no, this is correct. It's my dinner companion who's a bit off."

Liz watched the wine steward open the bottle and pour a small amount for Fitz to taste. He pronounced it just right, and the wine steward filled Liz's glass, then returned to fill Fitz's.

Fitz noticed Liz's smirk. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I enjoyed watching the whole tasting thing. It reminded me of a movie I saw a long time ago. A couple go out on a date and when he is given the wine to taste, she goes into a feminist rant about why the man always gets to choose the wine and taste it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as some sort of chauvinist statement."

"No, it's fine. Just one of those stray memories."

Appetizer plates disappeared and were replaced by the soup. While they waited for the steaming consommé to cool, Fitz asked, "So, how's George?"

"Fine, I guess. He told me that he won this cruise for being the most productive salesman for a big businesss-solutions software company. Made himself sound v. important, as Bridget would say."

"Yes, well, he would." And the mask fell into place again.

They ate their soup in silence. The consommé had slivers of leek and flecks of chive floating in it. Liz looked out the window and watched the sea go by. Fitz Darcy was a puzzle. Relaxed and joking one minute, and then silent the next.

John took away the empty soup bowls and Camille placed the sorbets on the table.

Liz tasted the sorbet, "Mmmm, mango. Delicious!"

Fitz watched Liz close her eyes and savor the tangy sorbet. She was so different from other women of his acquaintance. Not afraid to laugh and admit to having a good time. He had forgotten there were women like this. Confident, but not overbearing. She'd be good for Gina.

The vibration of the ship began to increase. Liz opened her eyes suddenly.

Fitz smiled, "That's the engines increasing our speed. We just put the harbor pilot off and now we're really underway. Look, see that small boat? That's the pilot boat. Until now, the captain was not steering. As we go out of the harbor, the harbor pilot is in control."

"All this way?"

"Yes, the currents around here are surprisingly tricky, so the pilot takes us all the way out to Ambrose Light before getting off."

"Oh."

While they waited for their main courses to arrive, Liz informed Fitz that she had told George she was the receptionist for Gardiner and Associates. "I gather that he isn't attracted to serious women, so I thought he might be scared off if I said I was a lawyer."

"Good thinking. If you have to make up something, it's always best to stay as close as possible to the truth. Less likely to slip up that way."

John set their fish entrees on the table, and Camille served the vegetables. Liz tasted her fish and took a sip of the wine. "Lovely."

As they ate, they chatted about the upcoming ports. Liz had never been to Bermuda, and was looking forward to it. Fitz described the pastel houses and the narrow roads with traffic going the "wrong way." They made some tentative plans to spend the day sightseeing, as Fitz did not expect George to get off the ship in Bermuda. "Strict drug laws, no gambling, nowhere to fence anything stolen. Way too civilized for George."

John returned with the menus so that they could choose dessert. Liz sighed, "Am I really going to do this?"

John grinned, "No calories in any of them, miss. I guarantee it!"

Liz was trying to resist, but then she saw something she had to try. "Chocolate salami? Is that for real?"

"Yes, miss. It's very good."

"OK, I'll walk TWO miles on deck tomorrow morning to make up for this."

Coffee and dessert were served, and Liz was delighted with her choice. The chocolate salami was like a flourless chocolate cake that had been prepared in a cylinder shape and then sliced.

Liz looked at Fitz's choice of raspberry bread pudding and shook her head. "You don't know what you're missing."

"That good?"

"Mmmm, and then some! This has been a marvelous dinner."

"Yes, the food is good. And they serve you constantly."

"So I've heard. Jane Gardiner gave me some pointers on avoiding excess calories."

"My mother always said to wear your tightest clothes the first day and save the loosest for the last day."

Liz noticed a faraway look in his eyes and decided to take a chance. "You miss her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, she died five years ago, and I still can't believe she's gone." He seemed to be on the verge of saying more, but then the mask came back. "I think it's time for you to meet George. Which lounge are you meeting in?"

"I forget the name. It's the small one midship on Upper Deck. Somebody's corner, I believe.

"Right, I'll catch up with you later."

Chapter 8

Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001

The Colonel's Corner was a small lounge with dark wood paneling. It looked like the library of a nineteenth-century gentleman's mansion.

"Good evening. I'm Richard. What can I get you?"

Liz smiled at the bartender. He had light brown hair, green eyes, and a great smile. The ship rolled a bit just as Liz began to sit down, causing her to plop onto the barstool. Grateful that the stool was firmly attached to the floor, she laughed, "Well, wasn't that graceful?"

"Don't worry, you'll get used to the motion."

"I certainly hope so. In the meantime, I'll just have some ginger ale. Is that an old wives' tale about ginger ale being good for seasickness?"

Richard looked concerned. "Do you feel ill?"

"No, no, just being cautious."

"Good." He glanced down appreciatively as Liz crossed her legs. "Ginger ale it is, then, for the landlubber! And the answer to your question is yes and no. Ginger ale will not prevent seasickness, but if your stomach is a bit upset, it is truly soothing. You may have noticed a tray of crystallized ginger by the exit to the dining room."

"Oh, that explains those little rocklike things next to the mints!"

"Cheers!" said Richard as he set down her glass and her bar tab.

"The first thing on my account," laughed Liz as she signed the tab.

"What? This shops didn't open after we left port?"

"I'm saving myself for tomorrow!"

Richard smiled as he handed her the receipt. "Thank you, Ms Bennet. You must come back when you get your sea legs. I make a mean daiquiri."

Liz waited for a half-hour and saw no sign of George. While she sat at the bar, she chatted with Richard. She learned that the crew nicknamed him "The Colonel" because he had been the bartender in this lounge for four years. He had been with Austen Cruise Lines for six years, spending the first two on the Sensibility before transferring to the Pride. She was laughing at something he said when she saw Fitz walk by, scowling.

Liz sighed, "I guess I've been stood up. I was supposed to meet someone here a half-hour ago but he still hasn't arrived. Guess I'll check out the show in the Regency Lounge."

"Foolish man if you ask me."

Liz flashed him a grateful smile and left. She hadn't walked five paces when Fitz fell into step beside her.

"What were you doing in there?" he snapped.

"Waiting for George."

"Flirting with the bartender, you mean. George probably saw you and left."

"No, he didn't. The mirror over the bar gave me a good view of the door. The only person I saw was you spying on me. Maybe George saw YOU and left. Look, it's only the first night. George is probably still trolling somewhere. Just be patient. Meanwhile, I'm going to the show. Care to join me? Perhaps we could practice the 'you're interested I'm not' thing?"

"I think we need to plan."

"I think I need to see the show. We can plan tomorrow." She turned and stalked away.

Chapter 9

Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001

The show was a review of Broadway songs. The singers were very good and one of the dancers, she noticed, had a very Fosse style to his moves. They performed many of her favorites, and she relaxed and enjoyed the show.

What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play.
Life is a cabaret, old chum.
Come to the cabaret.
("Cabaret," Kander and Ebb)

Liz chuckled as she thought of Fitz Darcy, sitting alone in his room, probably sulking. Shoulda come to the cabaret, old chum!

Liz marveled at the entertainers' ability to change costumes between numbers and get back on stage quickly. When the dancers came out in tap shoes for "42nd Street," she couldn't believe it. She imagined the ship pitching and rolling in heavy seas, and wondered how the dancers would fare then.

She walked out of the lounge humming "One" from "A Chorus Line," which had been the closing number. She wandered into the casino and saw George at one of the tables. So it was Lady Luck he was pursuing tonight. She ambled toward George's table while looking away from him as if fascinated by the array of blinking, beeping slot machines.

"Liz! Oh, I am SO sorry! My luck was running so well that I forgot the time! Hang on a minute and we can go for that drink as soon as I finish this hand."

"No, no," Liz yawned, "It's late and I'm getting sleepy. If your luck is running well, stay at it. Listen, I don't know anything about gambling. Maybe you could teach me tomorrow, and we could have that drink then?" Gah! Am I really doing this dumb-bunny bit?!? And is he really buying it?

Wonder how much money she has to spend at the tables? "OK, see you here tomorrow, say 11-ish?"

"Great! Goodnight, George."

"Night Liz." He turned back to his game and Liz went to her cabin. She went out five minutes later to slip a note under the door to Fitz's cabin.

Fitz was, in fact, sulking in his cabin when he heard the rustle of a sheet of paper slipping under the door. Assuming that it was the next day's program of activities, he paid no attention. When he got up to get a drink of water, he found the single page of Austen Lines' stationary.

Fitz-
Meeting G in casino tomorrow AM. Maybe you won't have to go to the trouble of pursuing me after all.

L"

"The casino? What is she up to?" He reached for the telephone to call Charles to relate the day's progress (or lack thereof, he thought) to the client. He quickly ran down the day's events. Then Charles gave Fitz the travel schedule for himself, Mr. Gardiner and Jane Gardiner.

After the two men agreed to talk the next night, Charles asked, "By the way, Fitz, what do you think of Jane Gardiner? Isn't she an angel?"

"Charles, she's a client."

"Client's daughter, actually."

"Same thing. You know the rules," he sighed.

"You OK, Fitz?"

"Yeah, fine. Goodnight Charles."

Chapter 10

Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001

Liz awoke to tiny points of light dancing on the ceiling. Sunlight was reflecting off the water and shining into her cabin. She stretched and picked up her little travel clock. ("Hotels always have clocks in the rooms, ships never do," Jane had warned.) 7 AM. She yawned. I could get up and walk on deck. Or maybe just a few more minutes...

Rrringg!

"H'lo?"

"Are you ever going to get up? It's after 8!"

"Fitz, that you?" She groped for the clock, "Can't be 8, it was 7 only a minute...oh!"

"You said we'd plan this morning."

"OK, just let me get some breakfast and then..."

"Meet me in the dining room at 8:30." Click.

Liz glared at the phone, "Sir! Yes, Sir" She saluted the phone and then blew a raspberry at it.

Liz strolled into the dining room at 8:35. She figured Fitz would have been there early, so a few extra minutes would really annoy him.

"You're late. We need to think about how we use these days at sea."

"Yes, regular coffee, thanks." She smiled at the waiter and then turned to Fitz. "OK, so I'm impressed that you're an early riser and a morning person, and that you had your breakfast hours ago. Now can I please just get some coffee into my system? You know, you should seriously consider switching to decaf."

He started to speak, but she held up her hand to silence him. "Don't. It won't sink in, so you'll have to repeat it anyhow." She drained her cup and the waiter returned with a refill. She ordered melon and an omelet, had another swallow of coffee and looked at Fitz.

"All right, now that I'm caffeinated, what's your plan for the day?"

"You tell me. You made a date with George."

"He's going to give me some pointers on gambling. He's VERY fond of the casino."

"George can spend money faster than anyone I know-even Charles's sister."

"Ah, it's always easy to spend when it's someone else's money."

At that point, breakfast arrived and they were spared the need for further conversation. When Liz had finished her omelet, she said that she would ad-lib the day and meet up with Fitz for dinner.

"Don't forget that tonight is formal. It's the Captain's cocktail party. You did bring something formal to wear?"

"Yes, Jane made sure that I would be prepared for anything."

"Good, we can appear to meet there. I'll go in ahead of you and pick you up when you come in. You should plan to be early, too, as there's a receiving line that can take a while to get through."

"What about George?"

"I'm betting that he'll be late, especially if he doesn't know how long the line can get. So when he arrives, he'll see us together. That should pique his interest. I wonder what he'll say when he realizes that we are both in a dining room a level 'above' his."

"Was that done on purpose?"

"Yes, Mr. Gardiner and I wanted to make sure you had some time when you could be away from George. Plus, it set up times when we could meet to plan."

"You really are good at this, aren't you?"

"Yes, even better when I get some cooperation."

She smiled grimly. "Point taken." She looked at her watch. "Hey! It's after 9! The shops are open!"

"Remember what you said about spending other people's money. Mr. Gardiner is a generous client, but you don't want to get carried away."

"Right, no diamonds, then. See you tonight!" And with a wave, she was off.

She left the dining room, went up one flight of steps, and headed for the shopping arcade. She looked briefly at the clothing and reeled at the prices. Glad I had Jane for a personal shopper! There was perfume in another shop, but they didn't carry her favorite scent. Duty free liquor? No, Jane had said the savings weren't worth the trouble of lugging the bottles off at the end of the cruise. Jewelry? No, she didn't think so. Fitz was right about not abusing Mr. Gardiner's generosity.

She found a small drugstore with the usual variety of personal items travelers often forgot. They also sold several seasick remedies, including "acupressure" wristbands. She shook her head at the rack of postcards. She knew that passengers could buy stamps at the purser's desk and even mail cards on board. If you were really lazy, you could send your postcards from right here and your friends would never know that you didn't get off the ship! Amazing. Film and batteries for cameras were on display by the register where there was an assortment of candies. Mmm, Elizabeth Shaw mints. Temptation! Liz remembered her new dress and quickly left the candy counter.

Ah, the Logo Shop. This was the source for souvenirs. There were shirts, hats, and all kinds of things with the Austen Lines' logo and images of the Pride. A corner of the logo shop had souvenirs for children. She was pleased to see that they did not have the ubiquitous "Grandma went on a cruise and all I got was this shirt" sort of thing. She went back to the adult clothing and chose a T-shirt for herself. Time to get ready for a gambling lesson!

Chapter 11

Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001

Liz looked around the casino. Several women were playing slot machines, a man was playing a machine that appeared to be dealing poker, and a few people were at a blackjack table.

"Good morning! Ready for your lesson?"

"Hi, George! Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough, but it could have been better," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. Liz did her best to giggle, rather than gag, at this obvious line. George looked her over approvingly. "Hey, great shirt! Did you buy that on the ship?"

"Uh huh, I bought it this morning. Just couldn't resist. It's just so, I don't know...um, nautical."

"Certainly is." George took advantage of the conversation to look at the image of the Pride across Liz's chest.

Hah! And Fitz thought I couldn't get George's attention! "So, what do we do first?"

"First we buy some chips. You can sign for them to your on-board account."

Aha! WE buy chips so that YOU can play. Smooth, George, very smooth.

George walked up to a blackjack table and tossed a few chips on the table. The dealer gave each player one card face up and one card face down.

"You start with two cards. The object is to get 21 or as close as you can without going over 21. An ace is worth one or eleven, numbers are worth their face value, and picture cards are worth ten."

"So, a king and an ace would be 11 or 21?"

"Right, but you'd call the ace eleven in that case, not one. So you'd get 21, see?"

"Ah."

George had a 5 face up and a 6 face down. "Hit me."

"What a funny thing to say."

"It means 'give me another card.'" The dealer gave him a third card.

"Dealer also takes one," said the redhead behind the table.

George drew a 9. The dealer drew a king, which put her over 21, so George won.

"Well, that seems easy enough," Liz remarked. "Can I try?"

They played for a half-hour. Liz lost a little money overall, but she had made very conservative bets. George, who bet heavily to impress Liz, won at first, but then lost several hands.

George was about to explain splitting and doubling, but Liz said she didn't want to get herself confused by trying too much her first day.

They wandered to the Café, where a buffet lunch was served on a shaded area of the deck. They collected their food and found a table near the railing. Liz had salads and fruit. George had shrimp, roast beef, and fries.

George surveyed Liz's tray. "That's all you're having? It's all included in your fare, you know. Eat up!"

"No, I hate feeling too stuffed. This is fine. I love all the fruit, especially when someone cuts it up for me. I'm sorry if I sound like a health nut, but I'm going to walk a mile or so on the Promenade Deck."

"Not me," laughed George. "I'm going to park myself in a deck chair and have a snooze."

"Enjoy your nap. See you later."

It was windy on the deck, but joggers and walkers were taking their exercise anyway. Five times around the deck equaled a mile. Liz breathed the sea air and decided that this was far better than walking on one of the treadmills in the Health Club. As she walked, she thought about George. It was hard to believe that he was such a scoundrel. He was friendly, funny, charming. Except for the remark about sleeping alone, he had been a perfect gentleman. And really, that remark had been more joke than innuendo, hadn't it?

She paused by one of the windows where George had checked his reflection the day before. Her hair was windblown and her nose was getting sunburned. Time to go indoors and think about primping for the captain's cocktail party.

Chapter 12

Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001

Fitz had been right about the line for the cocktail party. The line snaked from the stairwell, past the Library, and into the Derbyshire Room. The staff photographers were taking formal portraits outside the Library. Liz tried to decline, saying it would feel too vain to buy pictures of herself, but the photographer refused to take "no" for an answer.

When she reached the doorway to the Derbyshire Room, the ship's Hostess, Ms. Eliot asked her name, and then said, Captain Wentworth, this is Ms. Bennet."

"Welcome, Miss Bennet. I trust you are enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, yes, the Pride is a lovely ship."

They smiled for the photographer, and Liz walked on as she heard the Hostess introduce Captain Wentworth to an elderly couple from Connecticut. Poor man, he must get tired of all the small talk and smiling.

Fitz watched the stream of passengers enter the room. Men were in dark suits or tuxedos, women in long gowns or cocktail dresses. He liked the formality, as he believed that people generally behaved better when they were dressed up. But why do women think that black is the only dressy color? Has the "New York uniform" become the "cruise uniform" as well?

Fitz took a sip of champagne as he glanced at his watch. He sighed. Can she never be on time? A sudden bright flash in the expanse of black interrupted his thoughts. Well, someone has some style.

He took another sip of champagne and almost choked when the woman in red turned around.

Liz accepted a flute of champagne from a waiter stationed just inside the door to the Derbyshire Room. She scanned the room, noticing a sea of black gowns and black tuxes. She found Fitz and gave him a little smile. He had the oddest look on his face, as if he had choked. He stared back at her. Great, first I'm not "flashy enough to attract George," and now he thinks I'm too flashy. Oh well, Mr. Darcy, I like it and you'll just have to get over it. Little did she know, Fitz was wondering if he'd ever get over the sight of her in that red dress.

Liz raised her chin defiantly and walked toward the bar to say hello to Richard. "Hi, Colonel, who's minding the Corner?"

"Hi, landlubber! That bar is closed for the next few hours while I help with the crush in here. Are you ready for a daiquiri yet?"

"No thanks." She held up her champagne flute, "This is definitely an occasion for champagne." A waiter approached the bar with an order to be filled, and Liz turned away to admire a large arrangement of flowers on a nearby table.

Fitz's jaw tightened when he saw Liz heading toward the bartender. Flirting with some crewmember was not likely to impress George. On the other hand, that dress would certainly impress George. She looked stunning. The beads of the long red silk dress glittered with her every movement. Her hair was pulled up into a French twist, and he found himself staring at the small tendrils that had escaped and lay along her neck. He hadn't seen her with her hair pulled up like that. He had never imagined her dressed like that.

As she moved toward the flowers, Fitz approached her, "Good evening."

"Hello."

He held out his hand, "Fitz Darcy."

She took it, "Liz Bennet."

"Are you enjoying the cruise?"

"Yes, thank you. Today a nice young man taught me to play blackjack."

"Oh. Do you enjoy gambling?"

"Not really."

"Would you care to dance?"

"Why ... I had not ... I thank you, yes."

He led her to the dance floor, where they joined a few other couples dancing to "They Can't Take That Away From Me." Liz hadn't thought about dancing when she bought the low-backed dress. The light pressure of Fitz's hand on her skin was making her feel quite warm. She had no idea that it was having a similar effect on him.

They danced in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she said, "I believe we must have some conversation, Mr. Darcy. A very little will suffice. I might remark that this is one of my favorite Gershwin songs. You might tell me what your favorite song is."

"Do you talk by rule then, when you're dancing?"

"We've just met, remember? It would look odd if we didn't talk, don't you think?"

"Yes, um, you seem taller tonight."

"That's because of the heels. I feel like I'm on stilts, but the dress was too long, and it was easier to make me taller than make a beaded hemline shorter. I'm grateful that the sea is so calm this evening. These shoes have disaster written all over them. You men have no idea how easy it is for you. Even when you are dressed up, you get to wear flat shoes."

"But we have to wear tight collars and ties, so that evens the score."

The band segued into their next song, and Liz and Darcy continued to dance.

"This one."

"This what?"

"This song. You asked what my favorite Gershwin is. It's this one."

She looked up at him in surprise and whispered, "Mine, too."

He began to sing very softly, "In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble. They're only made of clay. But our love is here to-" *

Flash! Startled, they turned to the photographer, who grinned and said, "You're gonna love this picture." The moment, and whatever might have become of it, was lost.

George entered the room. Fitz saw him before Liz did, and without realizing what he was doing, held her more tightly.

"He's here." Fitz plastered a neutral smile on his face and Liz feigned boredom, although her heart was doing flip-flops from the way Fitz was holding her. The increased pressure of his hand on her back felt almost possessive. It felt good. Don't make something out of this. It's just a performance for George's benefit. It doesn't mean a thing. And that's how I want it, right?

George was stunned. What was Fitz Darcy doing on this cruise? And out of all the women on the ship, he was dancing with Liz. Then George saw that she looked bored. He smiled. This could be fun.

"Excuse me, may I cut in?" George favored Liz with a broad smile.

Liz glanced at Fitz. The mask was back. He simply nodded and walked away.

George took her in his arms and murmured, "You look stunning."

She smiled, "Thank you."

Fitz stood by the windows and looked out at the sea and the dark sky. He accepted another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It's all going according to plan. This is what's supposed to happen. So why doesn't that make me happy?"

* "Our Love is Here to Stay" George and Ira Gershwin

Chapter 13

Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001

While Fitz scowled at the sea, George swept Liz across the dance floor. He asked, "How long have you known Fitz Darcy?"

"We just met. He isn't very interesting." She smiled up at George. "I'm glad you came along when you did."

"Always a pleasure to rescue a damsel in distress." George tightened his hold on Liz, much as Fitz had done earlier. Liz wondered why it didn't give her the same sense of comfort.

"Distress? Well, that might be a strong word. George, do you know Fitz Darcy?"

"Yes, we were boyhood friends."

"Oh, perhaps you'd like to go over and talk to him-wait a minute, you said WERE friends?"

"Yes, it's a long story, and not appropriate for a party."

"From the tone of your voice I gather it isn't a pretty story? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Just then band stopped playing, and Brian, the Cruise Director, stepped up to the microphone to welcome everyone to the reception. His question, "Did you have a good time today?" was met with a round of enthusiastic applause.

"Good, good! Tomorrow we will be in beautiful Bermuda. We should dock at Kings Wharf around 7:30, and you will be able to get off by 8:30 to catch your tours or take the ferry to Hamilton, where you can visit the shops along Front Street. My staff will be dockside, so look for us if you have any questions. And now, I'd like to introduce the Master of the Austen Pride, Captain Frederick Wentworth!"

Captain Wentworth strode to the front of the room and accepted the microphone from Brian. "Thank you, Brian. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I always enjoy getting to meet the passengers. You smiling faces tell me that our staff is doing a good job." This remark, too, was met with applause.

"We on the Pride are here to see that you have a wonderful cruise experience. The weather should continue to cooperate tonight, and I can promise you that conditions will be very smooth tomorrow," he paused waiting for the joke to sink in, "when we're docked in Bermuda." Polite laughter followed.

"Those of you who have been aboard the Pride before have undoubtedly noticed that she has been refurbished. She just came off a refit a few months ago, and all cabins and public rooms were redecorated at that time. Although some places look a bit different, she is still the Pride that we know and love. And she is soon to have a new sister. Austen Cruise Lines is proud to announce that we are building another ship. She will not replace any of our existing ships, but will expand our services in Europe. She has not been named yet, so if you'd like to suggest a name, please leave a note at the Purser's desk. And no, we are not yet taking reservations for her maiden voyage. And now, I am told that the dining rooms await you, so bon a petit and enjoy your evening!"

The passengers applauded, drained their champagne glasses, and began to drift out of the room.

George didn't pay much attention to the Captain. He was too busy considering his next move. Perhaps Liz would warm to his sad tale. After all, she hadn't sounded terribly enthusiastic about Darcy. George smiled as he imagined spoiling Darcy's shipboard romance. And maybe I'll get a little "romance" out of it, too.

George turned to Liz, "Shall we go to dinner? Oh, I forgot. We're in different dining rooms. Maybe we can meet later? Let's give the Colonel's Corner another try."

"That would be lovely. I'll meet you there."

George left the room and, as soon as he was gone, Fitz was at Liz's side. "So?"

"I'm meeting him after dinner. Apparently, he has a story to tell about you." She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but before Fitz could reply, Captain Wentworth walked up to them.

"Fitz, good to see you again. How did you sneak in here without running the photographic gauntlet outside?"

"Sorry, I'll never tell. I have no wish to get any of your staff in trouble!"

"Well then, sir, your punishment is to join me at my table this evening and share your lovely lady in red instead of keeping her all to yourself." Liz blushed at the compliment and the implication that she was "Fitz's lady."

"Captain Wentworth, Liz Bennet."

"Miss Bennet, if I may?" He offered his arm. Liz took it and glanced over her shoulder at Fitz, who was quietly following behind, still in awe of the glamorous "lady in red."

Chapter 14

Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001

Captain Wentworth was seated at the head of an oval table. At the opposite end sat Anne Eliot, the Pride's Hostess. Liz sat to the Captain's right, with Fitz next to her. Also seated at the table were a retired doctor and his wife, a couple who were both professors at Columbia University, a young woman from the Austen home office, and her fiancé.

"What do you do at Austen, Mary?" asked Liz.

"I maintain the website. It's a lot of fun. I get all the press releases in advance so that they can be posted at the same time they hit the media, I see sailing schedules before the travel agents do, all sorts of neat stuff."

"So, is it true that the new ship hasn't been named?"

"Right now, she is just hull number 692. That's the shipyard's designation. The company thought about a competition to name the new ship, but then they decided not to. I think the powers that be probably have a name in mind, but nobody is telling."

"They should name it for you," said her fiancé gallantly.

"Uh, Honey, it's been done. The Queen Mary, remember?"

Conversation ended when the menus arrived. Liz giggled when Fitz leaned over to her and pointed out the lobster, served with cardinal sauce. "See, told you," he laughed.

The waiters returned to answer questions, and the Captain asked, "What do you recommend tonight?"

"Everything is good, sir."

"As it should be, but are there any particular hints you'd like to give?"

"From the other end of the table, Anne Eliot scowled at her boss. "Really, sir, you always put the waiters on the spot."

"Keeps them on their toes," he grinned. "Very well, then, we accept your pronouncement that it's all good."

"One thing that I should point out," said the waiter, "Is that the lobster is served split, so that you don't have to deal with cracking the shell. Also, I can take it out of the shell for you, so that you don't risk getting the drawn butter on your clothing."

"Oh, where's the fun in that?" laughed Liz. "The only way to eat lobster is with your sleeves rolled up so that you can get butter all over yourself!"

"Lobster roll, that's my favorite," said Mary.

"No, lobster Newburg!" exclaimed the doctor.

"Not on your diet, dear," sighed his wife. "Chicken for you, I think. And for me as well."

Liz decided on rack of lamb, served medium rare. The Captain and his Hostess also ordered lamb. Fitz opted for beef Wellington, and the rest of the table chose lobster (except the low-cholesterol doctor and wife). The captain ordered wine for the table, and everyone relaxed as the appetizers were served.

Liz reached over to taste Fitz's salmon mousse, "Mmm, delicious."

"Hey! I told you to order one for yourself." He playfully slapped at her hand, while swiping a piece of crabmeat from her plate.

"I saw that, mister!"

"Cool! Food fight!" giggled Mary. Champagne followed by wine seemed to have relaxed everyone's inhibitions.

Liz turned as crimson as her dress when she realized that they had been misbehaving at the Captain's table. The whole table erupted in laughter, and people at nearby tables began to look on curiously.

"Pity, isn't it?" asked Fitz in mock despair. "She cleans up so pretty, but just can't behave herself!"

"You started it," hissed Liz at Fitz, and everyone laughed again. Captain Wentworth was quietly thinking about what was to come. I hope it goes well, and then you two can relax and realize how perfect-his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the sorbet.

The sweet, cassis-flavored sorbet was followed by the main courses. Liz watched Fitz cut into his beef Wellington.

"What? Do you want a taste of this, too?"

"No, I don't care for it because of the liver pate. But I'm admiring the puff pastry. That's the tricky part, especially when you order it rare. The chef has to get it hot enough to puff the pastry without overcooking the meat. Anyhow, nothing on your plate could tempt me to trade a morsel of this lamb. It's perfect."

"Are you a chef, Ms. Bennet?" asked one of the Columbia professors.

"No, I'm just interested in cooking. I love to read cookbooks, and I test out new recipes on my friends. Lately I've been baking all sorts of pastries."

"Then, Ms. Bennet, do not miss tonight's midnight buffet," said Anne Eliot. "It's the dessert extravaganza. Tons of chocolate! And go in early with your camera. The preview is just for taking pictures, mind you. No fair sneaking an early taste!"

"I did see that in the daily program. Thanks for the reminder, Ms. Eliot."

Dinner plates were removed, but the menus were not brought back for dessert choices. Captain Wentworth explained, "I've arranged an early preview of the midnight buffet. These are my favorites, and since I'll be on the bridge at midnight, I'm getting my dessert now. And if you're a pastry aficionado, Miss Bennet, you'll like these."

The waiter brought out a tray of cream puffs.

"Swans!" cried Liz. "They're adorable! But how do they get the pastry to stand up like a swan's neck?"

"It's baked that way," said Fitz.

"Well, of course! But choux pastry is piped from a pastry bag onto the baking sheet. How do they get that shape?"

"Shoe pastry? These are made out of shoes?"

"Gah! Choux pastry C-H-O-U-X. It's French, silly! Oh, these are too pretty to eat."

The whole table was laughing again. Anne Eliot sat with her chin on her hand, wistfully watching the Captain as he smiled at the bickering couple.

"No they aren't. Trust me on this," said Captain Wentworth.

"Trust him," echoed Anne. "He does this every week."

When the last swan had been devoured, everyone thanked the Captain for his hospitality, and then headed on to the evening's activities.

Fitz held Liz's chair as she stood up. "Well," he said.

"Well." She paused. "I guess I'm off to meet George. Wish I didn't have to, though." Wish I could dance with you again instead.

"Duty calls, I'm afraid. Off you go." Don't dance with George again.

"Maybe I'll see you at the buffet? I doubt George will prefer chocolate chips to casino chips. But I want to go to the buffet at 11:45 to take pictures."

"Get your camera now, before you meet George."

"Why?"

"In case he decides to go to the buffet with you, it would be better if you didn't go back to your cabin with him in tow. Humor me. Please?"

"All right."

Fitz walked Liz back to her cabin. As she unlocked the door, he said softly, "I didn't get a chance to tell you."

She turned, "Tell me what?" Those brown eyes were so close. Then there were loud voices in the corridor, and a couple walked by arguing about how much he had lost in the casino.

"Tell me what?" she repeated.

"You, um, uh," Geez, just say it Fitz, "You have powdered sugar on your nose. From the swans." D*mn! You coward! How difficult is it to tell a woman she's beautiful?

"Oh." She rubbed her nose. "See you later."

Liz shut the door to her cabin and sighed. She couldn't figure him out at all. So she decided to think about him later. She grabbed her camera, checked her nose for powdered sugar, and headed up to the Colonel's Corner to meet George and hear his story.

Chapter 15

Posted on Tuesday, 28 August 2001

When Liz arrived at the bar, George was already there. He had taken a table in the corner, far from the bar and the piano player. He was sipping whisky and surveying the occupants of the room, trying to estimate their worth.

"Sorry I'm late. I was invited to have dinner at the Captain's table, and it always takes longer to get through dinner with a large group."

"I hope it was pleasant."

"Yes, the Captain is very witty, and I met some interesting passengers."

"I assume Fitz was there?"

"You're right, he was, but why did you assume that?" Liz began to wonder if their "cover story" was coming unraveled.

"His uncle owns, among other things, a shipyard in Europe," explained George. "I think it's where Austen has their ships built, so if the Captain knows who Fitz is, he'd probably invite him. Good for business."

"Oh, so that's why he knew Mr. Darcy by name. I don't know how the rest of us were chosen for the honor. Maybe Ms Eliot invited them."

"Who is she?"

"She's the ship's Hostess. She introduced you to the Captain in the receiving line."

"Ah, the mousy one."

"George, that isn't nice! She's quite pretty, actually. You should see how her face lights up when-oh, OH! I wonder. You know what? I think she's in love with Captain Wentworth!"

George groaned in mock horror. "Oh, no, don't tell me. You're a hopeless romantic!"

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"Absolutely nothing. I think you're sweet." And with that, he took Liz's hand and kissed it gallantly.

Well, I guess we've established our roles. Somebody cue the "Loveboat" theme! Liz looked up as a waiter approached.

"What can I get for you, Miss?"

"Tell the Colonel that the landlubber is ready to try one of his daiquiris. He'll understand."

"Another for you sir?"

George nodded and the waiter walked to the bar. Richard looked up sharply, and Liz gave him a smile and a little wave.

George was a bit annoyed, "You know the bartender?"

Well, YEAH! I spent a half-hour in here the other evening, waiting for YOU, remember? "Yes, I met him when I was in here the other night. So, George, tell me about Fitz Darcy. I was wondering about your story all through dinner."

"I've known Fitz since we were kids. Our fathers met through a business deal and became good friends. They played golf together just about every weekend. When I was in high school, I started joining them for golf. Fitz was never interested in golf, and I think he resented my friendship with his father. It got worse after my own father died, and George Darcy became a second father to me. You've met Fitz, so you know how dull he is. I think his father enjoyed having the company of a livelier young man.

"Unbeknownst to me, my father had had some business troubles. It wasn't until I started to sort out his estate that I realized we had very little money left. Mr. Darcy offered to pay my tuition so that I could finish graduate school, but Fitz talked him out of it. Fortunately, I was able to get a grant and finish my MBA. I kept on civil terms with Fitz out of respect and concern for Mr. Darcy, who was by then quite ill.

"When I finished school, I had hoped to work for one of the Darcy companies, but by that time, Mr. Darcy was dying and Fitz was in control of things. Fitz made sure that nobody at Darcy would hire me."

"That's horrible! Wait a minute. Darcy companies? Plural?" asked Liz. "What sort of companies?"

"Darcy, Inc. is into all kinds of industries. Fitz's own pet company is a PI firm. He went to Annapolis, and tells people that he was trained as a Navy Seal. You know, commando stuff. The PI thing is his macho fantasy."

"Fitz was a Seal? I can't picture that." Actually, she could picture it. Images of Fitz in a wetsuit were beginning to distract her.

"No, the thing is, he didn't actually become a Seal. He flunked out of the special training." George smirked, "Instead he did his time in the Navy diving behind a desk somewhere."

"And now he works for the Darcy companies?"

"Not exactly, he OWNS them. Didn't you now? Fitz is rich. That's what hurts so much-he could have afforded to help me out. He would never have missed the money. But he was too mean to help someone he envied."

"I've seen how arrogant and superior he can be. Must be awful to be on the receiving end of that."

"Yes," agreed George. "Of course, he knows how to cover up the mean streak with social graces. He is very polished and polite when he wants to be. But if you cross him, forget it! Once you lose his good opinion, you lose it forever."

They finished their drinks, and George suggested that they go up on deck for some fresh air. On the way, Liz was quiet, wondering how much of George's story was true. Fitz was arrogant, and appeared aloof, she could vouch for that. But she had seen how his expression softened when he spoke of his mother or his sister. Liz knew that Fitz couldn't be as bad as George made him seem, but George's story was so convincing. Was there some truth to it, or was it simply well rehearsed?

They walked out onto the Sun Deck and looked up at the stars. Without any prompting from Liz, George picked up his story.

"You know what hurts the most, even more than the money? In banning me from his life, he banned me from his sister's life, too."

"His sister?" asked Liz, with a sinking feeling. What was it Jane said? Something about having the impression that Fitz had a personal stake in this.

"Oh yes, we were great friends, although she is quite a bit younger. I used to entertain her with stories and games when she was little. When she was 12, I taught her to play the guitar. Fitz, of course, thought she should have spent the time on her piano practice.

"After her mother died, Gina was miserable. I took her out a few times to cheer her up. I arrived at the house to pick her up one evening and Fitz was there. He threw me out and threatened to have me arrested. It was just dinner, for crying out loud! I don't know what he told her, but the last time I saw her she wouldn't even speak to me. I feel as if I lost my little sister."

"Oh, George, how terrible!" Liz managed to sniffle a bit, but couldn't bring tears to her eyes.

"Hey, I didn't mean to depress you. Come on! A drink and a trip to the casino will cheer us up. What do you say?"

"No thanks, George. You go on, though. I don't want to be up too late because I have to get up early for a tour tomorrow. Are you going sightseeing tomorrow?"

"Nah, Bermuda's pretty boring unless you want to buy English china or wool sweaters. I'll stay on the ship, maybe check out the computers and spend some time on the net." I wonder what that cute redhead from the casino does when the gambling tables are closed while we're in port?

George noticed the camera hanging from Liz's shoulder. "What's with the camera?"

"I'm going to take pictures of the midnight buffet. It's all fancy desserts and there will be ice carvings and pretty decorations. They let people go in early to take photographs."

"You're gonna take pictures of FOOD?"

"Oh, yes, that's what everyone will ask about when I get home-what was the food like, and things like that."

"Whatever. I guess I'll see you tomorrow sometime. Goodnight, Liz."

"Goodnight, George. Good luck at the casino."

Chapter 16

Posted on Tuesday, 28 August 2001

Liz had about 20 minutes to kill before the photo op, so she sat in a deck chair and tried to identify the constellations overhead. Anything to avoid thinking about George's story. The door to the stairway opened, and a man walked out. The light behind him briefly silhouetted a broad-shouldered frame and then the door closed. The man walked over to the rail and gazed out at the sea. I know that pose, thought Liz.

Fitz sighed and ran his hand through his curly hair. He wondered what George was telling Liz. He worried about how she'd respond. His feelings were getting out of control and he didn't like it. This is a job, he told himself. Don't let it get personal. She's a big girl, she'll be all right.

Fitz heard footsteps on deck behind him. A soft voice said, "Hey sailor." He turned around.

"Liz!"

"Fitz, is something wrong?"

"No, just the usual concerns about a job." Not to mention concerns about you.

"Are you sure? If there's something you need to talk about..."

"No, but thanks for the offer. How did it go with George?"

"Big long story, and I'm really too tired to go into it tonight. It's almost 11:45. Come to the buffet and have another swan. I wonder if we could put some on a plate and have a waiter sneak them up to the Bridge?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," replied Fitz. "Somehow, I have a feeling Ms Eliot will see to it that he gets his swans."

"So, you noticed it, too? I wonder if he has any idea of how she feels about him."

"I don't know. They worked together years ago on another ship, but I haven't seen Anne Eliot on the Pride before this." He shook his head. "Romantic attachments at work are never a good idea. It just gets messy. I had to go over all that with Charles again when we exchanged status reports on the phone tonight."

"Charles?"

"Yes, he ... well, never mind. Let's go look at the buffet." He opened the door to the stairway. When they reached the next deck, they could hear laughter drifting out of one of the lounges, as passengers enjoyed a comedian's performance.

They avoided going near the casino, and arrived at the midnight buffet just in time for the photo op. Passengers were snapping pictures like mad and exclaiming over the clever decorations. An ice carving of a dolphin glistened under a spotlight. The dolphin was rising from a sea of jumbo shrimp. Scattered around the table were decorative goldfish made of lemons, with fins and gills carved out of slices of carrots.

Watermelons carved like giant cameos were surrounded by platters of cheese. A chocolate sculpture of an eagle dominated another table. Chocolate-covered strawberries and pineapple slices covered a huge platter. Next to that was an enormous bowl of chocolate mousse. Farther down the table was an assortment of chocolate cakes.

Liz turned around and squealed, "There they are!" The swans were arranged on a huge mirror, which created the illusion that they were floating on a lake.

"They're too pretty to eat," said a woman next to Fitz. Liz smiled at her.

"Oh, no they're not. They're wonderful, light as a feather."

"Light as swan's down," laughed Fitz. "And it's midnight, so go to it!"

"I couldn't."

"Yes, you can," he said, putting two swans on a plate and handing it to the woman. "Enjoy!"

Fitz took another plate, put more swans on it and handed the plate to Liz. "Here you go, more swans."

They collected some samples of other desserts and found a table.

"This is truly decadent," sighed Liz. "I can't believe I'm eating again! I'll have to spend all of tomorrow running around Promenade Deck to work this off."

"Um, speaking of tomorrow, did you make any plans?"

"No, I didn't sign up for any tours in case something came up with George. But you were right. He thinks Bermuda is boring and he's staying on the ship."

"My aunt has a house on Bermuda and I'm going there for breakfast. You're welcome to join me, and then we could do some sightseeing."

"Oh no, I couldn't impose on your family."

"It's no imposition at all. The only people there are the caretakers, and they're more like old friends than servants. Frankly, I'd be less inclined to go if Aunt Catherine were there. Jenkinson will pick me up here at about 8:30. Can you get up that early?"

"Ha, ha, very funny Mr. Morning Person. Yes, I can get up early. Will caffeine be involved?"

"I promise you caffeine. Now, will you come with me?"

"Sounds lovely. But if I have to rise early, I'd better get to bed. See you in the morning."

Fitz watched Liz thread her way gracefully through the crowded tables. He smiled, she has found her sea legs, that's for sure.

The woman to whom he had given the swans stopped by the table. She patted Fitz on the shoulder.

"Thank you for the swans. They were delicious. By the way, I think your girlfriend is very pretty. You make an adorable couple."

"Oh, she's...yes, she's beautiful, isn't she?"

Chapter 17

Posted on Monday, 3 September 2001

Liz woke early. Something about the ship felt different. She looked out the window and noticed that they were moving slowly. And she could see land. Bermuda! She dressed quickly, and was looking for her camera and a spare roll of film when there was a knock on the door.

"Room service."

"No, no," she called. "I didn't order room service."

"Caffeine, ma'am. Ordered just for you."

"What the-" Liz opened the door to find Fitz standing there, grinning and holding a mug of coffee. He waved it under her nose.

"Mmm, doesn't that smell yummy?"

Liz reached for the mug, but Fitz backed away, saying, "That's it, good girl, you can do it, just follow the lovely smell of coffee."

She gritted her teeth and said slowly, "Give me the ****ing mug of coffee and nobody will get hurt."

"Ms. Bennet! Such language! Surely you don't use that word in the courtroom!"

"By the time I get to the courtroom, I've already had my coffee! Now gimme!"

Fitz surrendered the mug, laughing. "Get your camera and let's go look at Bermuda."

They stood at the rail on Promenade Deck. Liz sipped her coffee as Fitz pointed out landmarks. Liz pointed to several houses that she liked.

One in particular caught her fancy. It was painted creamy yellow, with a bright white roof. A wide verandah wrapped around the house. Steps led down from the verandah to a landscaped lawn complete with pool and little cabanas. A boathouse and dock completed the property. A long sailboat and a smaller motorboat were tied up at the dock.

"Oh, Fitz! That's the prettiest one yet!"

"Really? You don't like the blue one next door? It's bigger. I think an English movie star owns it."

"Well, I wouldn't turn down any of them if someone offered one to me. But the yellow one is my favorite. Look! Someone is taking the boat out. What a neat way to commute to work!"

The Pride turned slightly and Liz could see a lighthouse in the distance. She asked Fitz about it.

"Not surprisingly, Bermuda has several lighthouses. That's Gibbs Hill. You can climb to the top, if you're considering working off last night's dessert feast. And then you can undo all that good work by having afternoon tea in the shop at the base of the lighthouse. Or you can be a slug and just have the tea and skip the climb."

"I am not a slug, sir!"

"Uh huh, just keep eating and we'll see!"

"What are all those stone buildings ahead?

"That's King's Wharf, near where we'll tie up. The buildings were part of a fort, and now there are shops and a maritime museum there. And the newer building farther to the left is a modern prison."

"No wonder George isn't getting off the ship here!"

The Powerful, one of Bermuda's tugboats, nudged the Pride into position at the dock. The Officer of the Watch announced that passengers should stay away from the gangway area until the ship was cleared by Immigration and Customs.

Liz and Fitz stayed on deck and watched as a parade of taxis and buses arrived to collect passengers for tours. A ferry was standing by, too, ready to take people into Hamilton, Bermuda's capital city. Fitz was suggesting they go to their cabins to get organized for the day when he was interrupted by a voice on the loudspeakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the Officer of the Watch. The ship has been cleared, and you may go ashore at your leisure. Enjoy your day in Bermuda, and remember to be back by 6 PM, as we will sail shortly thereafter."

The line of passengers moved slowly down the gangway. At the bottom, photographers were posing passengers for pictures.

Fitz sighed, "I hate this part. I'm always eager to get going, and I have no intention of buying a picture of me next to a sign that says 'Welcome to Wherever.' Too touristy."

"Maybe they should have an express lane for people who don't want pictures."

"Never happen. The photographs are a profit center, after all."

"That reminds me, I must check out the photos when we get back. I want to see how my portrait turned out. You didn't have a portrait done, did you?"

Fitz was about to answer when the photographer called out, "Smile!"

So they smiled, the flash went off, and they stepped off the gangway as the photographer called out "Smile!" to the next people in line.

Fitz led Liz away from the crowds and the taxis. He headed for a dock where several boats were tied up.

"Where's your friend's car?" asked Liz.

"Right here." He pointed at a motorboat. The name "Annie" was painted across the stern. A spry, gray-haired man jumped onto the dock.

"Good morning Mr. Fitz! Good to see you, sir."

"Jenkinson! You look well. How is Mrs. Jenkinson?"

"She is well, too. Welcome to Bermuda, Miss. Are you enjoying your cruise?"

"Oh, yes. I'm looking forward to seeing Bermuda."

"Then let's get started." He jumped down into the boat and offered Liz his hand. "Here you go, Miss."

Fitz got in behind Liz, and led her to the seats at the stern. Nestled on the seat was a picnic basket.

"The ride is smoother back here. It can be bouncy when the boat is going full throttle. You'd better hold onto that hat you like so much. Just between you and me, Jenkinson can be a bit of a show-off, especially when he has a young lady to impress."

"No, no, Mr. Fitz, I believe you're confusing me with your uncle," replied Jenkinson as he untied the boat.

Fitz laughed and opened the basket. Inside, he found a thermos, mugs, and some muffins still warm from the oven.

"You requested caffeine, ma'am?"

"I don't believe this! How did Jenkinson know to bring coffee?"

"I called him last night and placed the order."

Liz shook her head. Now who's showing off?

Jenkinson started the engine and eased the boat away from the dock. As if to prove that he was not a show-off, he kept to a gentle speed.

Liz leaned back and savored her coffee. She asked Fitz, "You didn't answer my question earlier. How did you evade the photographers last night?"

"Oh, I know my way around the ship pretty well."

"Is that because your uncle built the Pride?"

"How do you know about my uncle?"

"George said he owns a shipyard."

"Yes, Uncle Lewis did build the Pride. I've seen the original plans, and I got to see her during the construction, which was fascinating. Uncle Lewis is building the new ship, too. He always jokes that he builds them, but has no say in naming them."

"What about this one? Who is Annie?"

"She's his daughter, which makes her my cousin. They're an interesting family. Uncle Lewis is a friendly, outgoing man with a booming voice. Aunt Catherine is quiet, conservative, and the family's authority on manners, punctuality, and proper behavior. She tried to bring up Anne to be a socialite. You know, marry well and give lovely dinner parties and organize charity events. Aunt Catherine nearly had a fit when Anne got her MBA instead of a degree in something more 'ladylike,' such as English lit."

"What does Anne do with her MBA? Give parties for business people?"

Fitz laughed, "No way! She runs my companies. I assume George told you something about Darcy, Inc.?"

"A little."

"Well, I'm Chairman of the Board, and Anne is my CEO. When Dad became ill, I had to take on the family businesses. At first I was sort of Dad's puppet, carrying out his instructions. Gradually, as I learned how things worked, I took on more and more responsibility. But I can't say that I enjoyed it. I was still in the Navy, and I had to juggle my job there and my responsibilities at Darcy.

"Dad had just died when Anne surprised us all by getting a degree in business. I took her on, and we ran things together. Once she got up to speed on everything, I left her in charge of the day-to-day, and I went back to the Navy and finished my time. After that, I started my own little business, which I do enjoy running."

"Anne sounds amazing."

"That she is. She is quiet, thin, almost frail. But she has a will of iron. That's the funny part. The one thing she has in common with her mother is that stubborn will. You could sell tickets to their confrontations. Aunt Catherine loses her temper, but Anne stays quiet and cool, which just makes Aunt Catherine angrier. Watching the two of them can be funny and scary at the same time. You can feel it coming, like a thunderstorm. Uncle Lewis usually manages to disappear until it all blows over."

"You call her Anne, but the boat is Annie."

"Only her father calls her Annie. Just as he is the only one who calls Aunt Catherine Cate. Sometimes I think he has delusions of being Petruccio! Ah, here we are. This is Rosings."

The boat pulled up to a dock next to a creamy yellow boathouse.

"Fitz! This is the house I saw this morning! Why didn't you tell me?"

"And miss the look on your face? Never!"

Fitz helped Liz out of the boat and led her up the path to the house. A tall, thin woman ran out.

"Mr. Fitz! I'm so glad you could come! Ms. Bennet, welcome to Rosings." Mrs. Jenkinson hugged Fitz and turned to shake Liz's hand.

"Your taste is improving, Mr. Fitz," she said, causing him to blush. "Come and sit, breakfast is almost ready."

A table on the verandah was set for three. Coffee, melon, and more muffins were already on the table. Liz was about to ask Fitz who would be joining them for breakfast when a tall, well-tanned man strode out of the house.

"Fitz, my boy! Good to see you! Sorry I wasn't able to pick you up, but I've been on the phone all morning. Cursed time zones-it's mid-day in Europe and everyone there seems to need to talk to me." He turned to look at Liz. "Good morning, young lady. Miss Bennet, isn't it? Oh, sorry, make that Ms Bennet. Annie keeps telling me that 'Miss' is too old-fashioned."

"Yes, it is Ms Bennet, but please call me Liz."

"And you must call me Lewis. Welcome to Bermuda, Liz. Is this your first visit?"

Liz nodded, and before she could say anything, Mr. de Bourgh continued. "Well, then, we'll have to give you the grand tour. I have an appointment in Hamilton this afternoon, but we can run out to St. Georges this morning. It's a pretty drive. But then, everywhere in Bermuda gives you a lovely view. Did you bring a camera? Wonderful."

As Mrs. Jenkinson set fluffy omelets on the table, Liz thought back to Fitz's description of his uncle. Outgoing was an understatement. He chatted with Liz as though she were an old friend, not a new acquaintance. He was regaling Liz with tales of Fitz and Annie's childhood scrapes when Mrs. Jenkinson walked onto the verandah.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir. Telephone." She held up the cordless phone.

"Who is it now?"

"LEWIS!" Cried the imperious voice inside the phone.

"Whoops! It's the boss. Excuse me." He took the phone and walked away from the table. As he departed, Liz and Fitz could hear his side of the conversation, "Cate! How is Paris, my dear? Have you bankrupted me at all the couturiers yet? Now don't go buying frilly things for Annie, you know she won't wear them..."

"Wow," breathed Liz after Lewis de Bourgh disappeared into the house.

"What?" asked Fitz.

"Your uncle. He's overwhelming. If his daughter is anything like him, I can see why you have her running your companies. And this house! I feel as if I've been plunked down in the middle of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.' This is incredible."

Fitz tapped her plate with his fork. "Finish your breakfast."

After breakfast, Fitz and his uncle caught up on family business. While they were in the library, Mrs. Jenkinson gave Liz a tour of the house. She took Liz up to the attic to show her how the roof was built and explained how the roof collects rainwater, which is then stored. Houses in Bermuda were built this way because Bermuda has no natural source of fresh water.

Liz admired the way the rooms were kept cool by the thickness of the walls and the way the shutters were hinged at the top so that they could be propped open and still shade the windows. In the living room, Liz noticed a collection of framed photographs on a table. Mrs. Jenkinson smiled as she watched Liz.

"That's Mrs. de Bourgh with Miss Anne as a baby. And there's Mr. Fitz and Miss Anne all dressed up for Easter. Let's see, he would be about 10 and she's 7 in this picture. The toddler in the stroller is his sister, Miss Georgiana."

Liz look at the other pictures, and stopped when she came to a picture of Fitz on a sailboat. His hair was windblown and he looked as if he was laughing at the sky. Mrs. Jenkinson followed her gaze.

"Yes, that's Mr. Fitz, on the Lady Cat. I think that picture was taken shortly before Mr. Darcy became ill."

"He looks so carefree."

"Yes, he was. He had to take on too many responsibilities too early. It made him old for his age, if you know what I mean. But I must say he looks relaxed this morning. Perhaps it's the company he's keeping?" she said slyly.

Liz ducked her head, embarrassed.

"Oh, don't mind me, my dear. I'm just a nosy old lady. But I will say this. You're a lot nicer than that Caroline creature who came with him last time he was here. She was cold, that one. Made me want to put on a sweater every time I saw her. Her brother was a nice young man, though."

The tour complete, Liz walked out to the waiting car. She looked at it as if something was wrong.

"Is having the top down a problem, Liz?" asked Fitz. "Mrs. J. can lend you a scarf for your hair."

"No, that's no problem. But there's something...the steering wheel is on the wrong side."

Uncle Lewis smiled. "We drive on what you would call the 'wrong' side of the road, as they do in England."

They got in the car.

"Prepare to be terrified," said Fitz.

"I heard that!" laughed Uncle Lewis as he stepped on the gas. And with a wave to Mr. and Mrs. Jenkinson, they drove off.

Chapter 18

Posted on Monday, 3 September 2001

Uncle Lewis pulled the car out onto North Shore Road. Despite Fitz's prediction, he actually drove quite slowly, as Bermuda's narrow roads require a low speed limit. Liz gasped when a bus went by with just inches to share.

"Not to worry, Liz! I've never hit a bus yet."

Liz laughed, "I trust you!" She looked at Fitz, who under the influence of his uncle, seemed relaxed. That carefree young man on the sailboat is in there somewhere, she thought.

"That's a pretty beach."

"Yes, that's Shelley Bay. You did say that you have your camera with you, didn't you. Would you like to stop and take a few pictures?"

"Oh, thank you! Do we have time?"

"Of course."

Uncle Lewis pulled the car over, and Liz grabbed her camera and ran down the steps to the beach. She called over her shoulder, "Aren't you coming?"

Fitz got out of the car and followed her. He paused at the top of the steps and watched Liz scamper across the beach. She took a few pictures, then kicked off her sandals, gathered up the skirt of her sundress and waded into the water.

Liz stood in ankle-deep water. She swung one leg forward and watched an arc of droplets sail over the water. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes. If only today were real, and not just part of this assignment.

Fitz watched Liz stand in the water, with her head tilted back. He ran up behind her, lifted her in his arms, and strode into deeper water. "Stop it!" she squealed, but he kept walking. "You wouldn't!" she cried. "Wouldn't I?" he replied, and tossed her into the water. Diving in after her, he surfaced at the same time she did. "I'll get you for this," she laughed, as he caught her and drew her close-

His uncle's voice broke into his dream. "Fitz? Are you going down onto the beach, or are you just going to stand here and watch her?"

"Um, what?"

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, fine. Just enjoying the sun and daydreaming a bit."

Liz had collected her sandals and was walking back toward the stairs. Fitz called down to her, "If you're ready, let's head out to St. George's."

Traffic was picking up as tourists were making their way to various beaches and attractions. Liz was amazed at the number of motor scooters.

"There are no car rentals on Bermuda," Fitz explained, "So the tourists rent the motor bikes. Lots of locals drive them, too. Gas is very expensive here, as you might imagine. A scooter gets much better mileage than a car does."

"But they ride in shorts and short sleeves. What happens if they fall?"

"The local term for it is 'road rash,' replied Uncle Lewis. "The problem with tourists is that most of them have never ridden a motor bike before, plus they aren't used to driving on the left. Unfortunately, some of them get this image of becoming motorcycle daredevils. It's a good thing that helmets are required."

"I'm beginning to see why the cruise lines recommend that you not rent the scooters. Even so, I saw quite a few people heading toward the rental place this morning. One of them was singing 'Born to Be Wild.'"

They drove through the village of Flatts, and past the Aquarium. Near the top of a long hill, Liz noticed the Bermuda Perfumery.

"Oh! Perfume is made here? That would be a wonderful souvenir!"

"We don't have to stop here," said Fitz. "You can buy it in shops all over the island. I had planned on taking some time to do a little shopping when we get to Hamilton."

Jenkinson eased the car downhill toward the long Causeway that led to St. George's Parish.

"What's your recommendation for lunch?" Fitz asked his uncle. "I was thinking maybe the White Horse, or perhaps coming back here to the Swizzle Inn."

"That depends, sir," replied Uncle Lewis. "Are you planning to get the lady tipsy?"

"I heard that!" yelled Liz. "Just what are you up to, Fitz?"

"Hey, I never said I was trying to get you drunk. That inference is entirely my uncle's. For lunch, there are several choices. There's a nice pub on the water in St. George's, or there's a famous place on the hill back there."

"Which one is the place where you can get me drunk?"

"Well, technically, you can get drunk in any place that has a liquor license, I suppose. Let's just see how the time goes."

Uncle Lewis dropped them off at the Square in the center of St. George's and went to park the car. Fitz showed Liz the statue of Sir George Somers, the Englishman whose ship, the Sea Venture, was wrecked on Bermuda after being blown off course on its way to Virginia in the early 1600s.

"It happened during a terrible storm, and many Shakespearean scholars believe that Somers' experience was the inspiration for the play The Tempest."

"Yes, I can see Prospero in him," agreed Liz.

They walked to the wharf to see the cruise ships tied up there. Liz started to giggle.

"What?" asked Fitz.

"Look, it's the Pacific Princess. The original 'Loveboat.'"

"So it is. But why is that funny?"

"Just something Jane said before I left. It's a long story. That series was on a long time ago. She must be a pretty old ship."

"Yes, she is. But a cruise ship can have a long life if cared for properly. A lot of the cruise lines are building megaships with huge superstructures. They keep advertising 'Look at us! We have the newest and biggest ships!' But I like the older style of construction. Look at her lines. Like the Pride, the Princess here looks like a ship, not a floating apartment block."

"And does your uncle build ships or floating apartment blocks?"

At that point, Uncle Lewis caught up with them. "It's a business, so I build what the client wants. But I'm happiest when I can watch a real beauty come to life in the shipyard. And, speaking of beauties, is Austin taking care of my favorite beauty?"

"Yes, the Pride is looking very good," answered Fitz. They did a nice job on the recent refit. You didn't do that job?"

"No, we were completely booked with other projects. This new Austen ship is taking a lot of time and space at the yard."

The two men watched Liz as she walked around taking pictures. Uncle Lewis nudged Fitz and, for once, spoke softly, "Mmm, on the subject of beauties, Fitz, you've found an enchanting creature. I like this girl. Not your usual nose-in-the-air socialite type, like that orange disaster who followed you everywhere the last time you were here. Make sure you get her home number before this cruise is over. And give me her number, too. If your Aunt Cate ever dumps me ..."

Fitz laughed, "Oh, sure. As if that's ever going to happen. You two are the living definition of the phrase 'opposites attract.'"

"I know you kids like to make fun of Cate, but you all would have grown up to be a bunch of hooligans if she hadn't taught you proper manners."

"Yes, manners, posture, the importance of supporting charitable causes, how to treat household staff with respect, why you shouldn't sleep through the sermon, have I left anything out? Seriously, though, you and Aunt Cate were such a help with Gina after Mom died, and then George..."

"That's what family is for, Fitz."

Liz rejoined the men and they walked to a gallery to see the work of some local artists. With Fitz's help, Liz selected a watercolor to hang in her office. They found a gift shop, where Liz bought a few trinkets and two packages of souvenir cocktail napkins. When Fitz raised an eyebrow at the napkins, she smacked his arm with one of the packages.

"Don't laugh. I always buy cocktail napkins. I learned this from a good friend. She buys cocktail napkins whenever she's on vacation. Then, when she has guests she uses the napkins and says casually, 'Oh, yes, when I was at wherever, blah, blah, blah.' We call it vacation-dropping, like name-dropping. It's a subtle way to brag about a vacation. So now it has become a standard souvenir thing between us."

"I must tell my sister that one. She'd love it. And now it's time for lunch. Shall we test your limit for rum swizzles?"

Chapter 19

Posted on Saturday, 8 September 2001

Fitz put Liz's purchases in the trunk, handed Liz into the car and they set off toward Bailey's Bay and the famous Swizzle Inn. They found a table outside, where they could enjoy the breeze. Fitz ordered two rum swizzles and an iced tea (Uncle Lewis was driving, after all), and the three looked over the menus.

"I guess if I'm having a rum swizzle, I should have a 'swizzleburger,' too" laughed Liz. The drinks arrived, and lunch orders were taken.

"Ooh, delicious! I can't believe this is a lethal drink. It tastes like fruit juice."

"Of course it does," laughed Fitz. "That's because it contains fruit juice and a lot of sugar. It also contains rum. What makes it lethal is the fact that it doesn't taste lethal. You can knock back a couple of these, and before you know it, you can't get up out of your chair."

"Mmm, blurry good." giggled Liz in a convincing imitation of inebriation.

Over lunch, Fitz and Uncle Lewis drifted into conversation about Rosings and the family. Suddenly, Fitz stopped and said, "Oh, Liz, how rude of me. I didn't mean to exclude you from the conversation."

"No, no, it's perfectly all right. I'm sure you don't get many chances to catch up like this. I'm just enjoying the blue sky and the soft breeze, and my yummy rum skwizzle." She slurred the last bit, with a wink at Uncle Lewis.

Fitz smirked at Liz, then turned to his uncle. "You know, it's a shame to skip Hamilton, but I think we need to get Liz back to the ship to sleep it off. Too bad that she won't get any shopping done."

Liz sat upright and said, "I'm fine!"

Fitz ignored her, and continued addressing his uncle. "You see, it can be devilishly difficult to get a woman's attention. But I have found that the lure of shopping brings them to attention like that!" and he snapped his fingers.

"Hah!" replied Liz. "And does this really work on the females of your acquaintance?"

"Every time."

"Sure works with my wife," laughed Uncle Lewis ruefully.

Uncle Lewis chose to drive to Hamilton along the South Shore Road, so that Liz could see more of Bermuda. As they drove by one of Bermuda's nature preserves, Liz saw a flash of white in the sky.

"What kind of bird is that?"

"It's the longtail," replied Fitz. "Check your change to see if you got a Bermuda quarter. The bird is on the back of that coin."

"Is the longtail native to Bermuda?"

"They live here for eight months of the year. They spend the winter over the Sargasso Sea, then come to Bermuda in the spring to mate and nest in cliffs along the South shore."

"They must fly quite a long way."

"Yes, they do. Look, there's a pair flying together."

"I think it's very romantic, flying all that way to find a mate. Oh! There's another pair!"

Chapter 20

Posted on Saturday, 8 September 2001

Liz stood in Trimingham's with a handful of sweaters. "Oh, I can't decide which I like. The longtail design is beautiful. But what's this funny arch design?"

The saleswoman smiled. "That's a moongate. It's supposed to be good luck for honeymooning couples to walk through a moongate."

"I think I saw some moongates while we were driving today. Hmm, I really don't know which one I want."

"If you can't decide on a sweater, why don't you try them on? Perhaps that will make up your mind," said Fitz. "And while you're doing that, I'll run to the jewelry shop next door to get a present for my sister. I'll meet you out front in about 20 minutes. Uncle Lewis should be done at the bank by then. Will that give you enough time?"

"That would be fine, thanks."

The saleswoman showed Liz to the dressing rooms. She couldn't help remarking, "Your boyfriend is very handsome."

"Oh, he's, um, yes he is."

Exactly 20 minutes later, Liz walked out of the store carrying a shopping bag. In addition to the sweater, she had purchased some "Bermudiana" perfume for herself and for her paralegal. She found a Royal Doulton china teapot for her mother. She still needed a souvenir for her sister Kitty, but she expected to find something more to Kitty's taste at the Straw Market in Nassau.

Liz saw Fitz walking toward her. He was carrying only a small bag.

"Which sweater did you decide on, then?" he asked.

"The Bermuda house design."

"Really? I would have bet on the longtail."

"I think the birds are wonderful, but the little crochet shutters on the house design were just too adorable. How did you do?"

"Fine, I bought my sister a bracelet." He looked at his watch. "I had hoped we'd have time for the tea at the lighthouse, but it's a long ride and we can't risk missing the ship. I think the best thing to do would be to say goodbye to my uncle here and take the ferry back to King's Wharf."

They walked down to the ferry terminal and found Uncle Lewis waiting for them with Liz's purchases from St. George's. Will shook his hand and said, "You're right. We'd best take the ferry. Thank you for driving us today. Please say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. J. for me. It was good to see you both."

Liz hugged Uncle Lewis and said, "Thank you so much. I don't care what Fitz says, you're a wonderful driver!

"I heard that!" shouted Fitz, and all three laughed.

The ferry bumped against the dock, the gangway was extended, and the passengers started to file off. Liz got off near the beginning of the crowd, and Fitz got off toward the end, just in case George was around. It proved to be a smart strategy, as Liz saw George wandering around the dockyard area.

"Hey Liz! How was your day?"

"George! I thought you weren't getting off the ship."

"Oh, I decided to go for a walk around here. I see that you've been shopping. If you're not shopped out, we could take a walk through the shops here."

"That sounds lovely. I did want to see the craft market."

Fitz walked off the ferry just in time to see Liz and George walk away arm-in-arm. He scowled and began to recite to himself, It's just a job, it's just a job, it's just a job.

Fitz showed his boarding pass to the security officer at the gangway and walked to his cabin. He took the boxes out of the bag. He opened one and smiled. He knew that Gina would like the gold bracelet. The links were sea turtles, her favorite animals.

Fitz looked at the framed photograph beside his bed. "I miss you, Gina. When this is over, maybe the nightmares will go away."

He put his purchases in the dresser drawer. With no particular goal in mind, he wandered around the ship. He stood on Promenade Deck for a while, but he couldn't see Liz and George walking around Dockyard anywhere. Then he wandered some more and found himself in the photographer's gallery.

The photographs that had been taken the night before were arranged on racks so that the passengers could find their pictures. He hadn't posed for any portraits, so he was about to leave when he saw a bit of red. He picked up the portrait of Liz. The photographer must have said something funny. She was smiling and the expression in her eyes showed that she was on the verge of laughter. He took the photograph to the desk.

As the photographer slipped the picture into a folder and filled out the charge slip for Fitz to sign he said, "Your girlfriend is very pretty."

Fitz just nodded and signed the paper.

Back in his cabin, Fitz opened the folder. He looked at Liz's picture and sighed. He closed the folder and lay back on his bed. He reached out to the dresser and picked up the daily program to see if there was an interesting movie on the cabin TV. Nothing sounded good, but he surfed through the dozen or so channels anyway.

Fitz turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the dresser, where it landed on top of the folder that held Liz's portrait. He started to open it again, then dropped it and walked out of his cabin.

Chapter 21

Posted on Saturday, 8 September 2001

Liz dumped her purchases on her bed and went up to the Promenade Deck, where George was waiting. They leaned on the railing and watched as the Pride left Bermuda.

"You really should have taken one of the tours, George. Bermuda is a lovely island. Well, actually, it's a bunch of islands, all ancient coral reefs. And did you know about the longtails? They spend all winter over the sea, and then they come here to find a mate and build a nest. Isn't that romantic?"

Borrrring! "Huh? Oh yeah, uh-huh."

Geeez, George, you could at least pretend to pay a little attention! And here's some more information you don't want. "And Hamilton is so charming. You should see the businessmen going to work in sportcoats and Bermuda shorts. Even the cops wear Bermuda shorts."

At the word 'cops' George turned to look at Liz. She'd had a feeling that word would get his attention, but she just smiled at him as if she hadn't noticed a thing, and continued to babble about the charms of Bermuda and point out pretty sights as they sailed through the channel that would take the Pride out to sea.

At one point, Liz saw a tall man looking over the railing of the deck above her. She thought it might be Fitz, but when she looked again, he was gone.

It took a minute for Fitz's eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. when they did, he looked down on Promenade deck, one deck below him. He saw George turn to look at Liz and saw Liz smile in return. She was pointing out sites along the shore. He realized that they were passing Shelley Bay and wondered if Liz would recognize it from this viewpoint. He pictured her as she had been that morning-standing in the water, tilting her head back in the sunlight. He shook his head to erase the picture and walked to the other side of the ship.

George was becoming tired of Liz's endless travelogue, so he decided to change the subject. "So, what are you doing after dinner? I heard that the comedian was funny the other night. His show tonight is rated "R." I bet it will be great. How about it?"

"I don't think so, George, I'm tired from all my sightseeing. I think I'll just do room service and crash for the night. See you tomorrow? I'll be up on Sun deck most of the day."

"Yeah, I'll look for you there. You don't know what you're missing." He turned on his best smile. "Sure you won't join me tonight? Hey, you didn't make a date with anyone else, did you?"

Liz considered making George jealous, but thought better of it. Instead she pouted. "Oh George, of course not! I really am pooped. I don't have enough energy to be fun company tonight. Maybe we can do something tomorrow night. Now, don't YOU go making a date with someone else!"

"Oh, Liz, how can you even ask me that?" replied George. "Rest well, and I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed her cheek and walked away. Liz wasn't even out of sight when George started wondering when Mary King, his red-haired friend from the casino, would go off duty.

On her way to her cabin, Liz stopped at the photographer's gallery. She found the photograph with the captain, but couldn't find her portrait. She took her picture to the desk and asked the photographer on duty if he had seen the portrait.

"If it isn't out there, I don't know what to tell you. As far as I know, everything turned out OK, no darkroom disasters." He slipped the photograph into a folder and said, "Wait. I did see your portrait. Your boyfriend bought it earlier."

"My boyfriend? Is that what he said?"

"Well, no, I just assumed that since he was buying your picture..."

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know. Tall, dark hair." He shrugged.

Liz bought the picture that she found and slowly walked to her cabin. Is George really that interested in me? Surely Fitz didn't buy it. It must have been George.

When Liz got back to her cabin, she put the picture away, put her shopping bag in the closet, and called in her order to room service. She took a quick shower, and was just slipping on her robe when she remembered Fitz. She called his cabin, but got no answer. Then she called the dining room and asked if he had arrived yet.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy has been here for about five minutes."

Oh, Lord! He's probably livid! "Please give him a message. Tell him that I'm tired and doing room service this evening."

"Very good, Ms. Bennet. If you'd like, I'll call him to the phone." Before Liz could say anything, Fitz was on the phone.

"Liz, are you all right?"

"Yes, just tired."

"You looked lively enough on deck with George."

So, it WAS Fitz on deck! "Well, I didn't see him all day, and I thought I should spend some time with him,. That's the plan isn't it?"

"You really throw yourself into your work, don't you?"

"Maybe I'm a good actress, did you think of that?"

And were you acting today, too? "Stupendous. You should win an Oscar! I'll see you tomorrow." Click!

Fitz returned to his table, and ordered dinner. After the waiter left, he realized he had no idea what he'd just ordered. He looked out the window at the setting sun. The sea was calm. He found himself wishing it would be rougher, to match his mood.

His dinner was served. Fitz ate mechanically, not tasting the light mushroom sauce on the perfectly grilled chicken breast or the perfectly al dente pasta that accompanied it.

The waiter cleared the dinner plate and asked about dessert. "No, nothing else," Fitz replied. "Good night."

Fitz walked out on the Promenade Deck. He wandered along the deck and found himself standing where he had first seen Liz. Not an appropriate choice? Did I really say that? I must have been out of my mind! Fitzwilliam Darcy, you're a fool!

The steward knocked on Liz's cabin door. "Room service!" Liz thought of Fitz's room service delivery of coffee that morning. He must be a Gemini. Either that or he's schizophrenic. He's at least two different people!

The steward set down the tray and left. Liz picked at her dinner. She thought about Fitz and George. She could see how women could be taken in by George. He was very charming. She wondered if she would have been fooled if she hadn't known what he was truly like. Although he had denied he would find other company, she knew that he was probably cruising the various bars on the ship. She didn't care, as long as he was interested enough to spend some time with her, the plan would work.

Fitz was another matter. He loathed George, and it had something to do with his sister. She wanted to know more, but was afraid to ask Fitz. He was so touchy about some things. She never knew what would annoy him. Take tonight, for example. She was doing her job, keeping in touch with George. So why was Fitz so angry? Control freak! Just because she used her initiative a bit, he got all huffy. She hadn't done it on purpose to annoy him. Why couldn't he see things from her perspective?

Liz put her fork down on the tray. She had eaten only about half of her dinner, but she knew she wouldn't eat another bite. She called Room Service to have the tray picked up. She was just setting the tray outside the door when she saw a pair of nicely polished shoes in front of her. She looked up, and there was Fitz.

His perfectly pressed tuxedo contrasted with his tousled hair, windblown from his walk on deck. It also contrasted with Liz's oversized Pride bathrobe and ponytail.

"We need to talk. I know you're tired, but could I come in for just a minute?"

"Sure."

Fitz followed Liz into the cabin. She sat on the edge of her bed. Biting her lip, she watched him try to collect his thoughts.

"Liz, you must allow me to tell you..."

Chapter 22

Posted on Monday, 17 September 2001

"... how sorry I am that I snapped at your earlier. Please accept my apology. I know that I shouldn't let George get to me, but he does. It's no excuse, I know, but whenever I see him with a woman, I want to take her aside and warn her."

"Fitz, I have been warned. I know what he is, and what he did to Lydia. But I have to cultivate his interest. Look, he isn't going to run to either of us and confess where he fenced Lydia's jewelry. We have to continue this as we've begun it."

"I still worry."

"I'm a grown woman, I can deal with this."

"I know that. I just don't..." He was at a loss for words, so he shrugged and turned to the door. "Sleep well. I hope you feel better tomorrow."

"Fitz?"

He turned to face her.

"Your sister. Look, you don't have to tell me details, but just, um, did he, um, hurt her?"

The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "He would have if I hadn't walked in when I did," he whispered. "She was only fifteen." He walked out and closed the door behind him. His hand went to his pocket, and he felt the box he'd carried with him all evening. He swore softly, and went to find a drink.

Liz sat absolutely still for several minutes. Then she remembered the remark she had made on the first day. "You don't have to be 15 to dream of finding true love." FIFTEEN! Oh did I really say that? No wonder he was so cold at that meeting.

During the night, the wind picked up and the sea turned rougher. The ship's stabilizers helped to control the motion, but the ship did pitch more than it had. The rocking motion was very soothing, and Liz slept soundly.

She woke early, and noticed the motion. She wondered if it would make her feel queasy. But it didn't seem to. In fact, she was delighted to discover that she enjoyed it.

Liz dressed quickly and went for a walk on the Promenade Deck before breakfast. Very few people were up and about so early. Liz laughed when she noticed how the ship's motion was causing people to walk in a serpentine pattern. Then she realized that her path, too, was affected by the motion of the ship.

As she rounded the corner, she saw Fitz in the same spot where she had first met him. He was leaning on the rail and looking out at the sea.

"Ahoy there!" she called.

He turned to look at her. He didn't look very awake. "I thought you weren't a morning person."

"I'm usually not. I don't know what hit me. I feel almost euphoric. I think it's the ship's motion. I'm so pleased that I've adapted to it well. I slept like a log last night. Oh dear, you don't look well. Don't tell me that you're seasick."

"No," he replied sheepishly. "A bit hung over. I spent a few hours with your friend the Colonel last night. I'm not used to drinking that much whisky. The ship has a fine collection of single malts. I'm not sure how many I tried last night."

"Can I do anything for you?"

"Yeah, stop yelling."

"I'm not yelling, Fitz," she whispered.

"Well, you're disgustingly perky."

"You have my sympathies. How about I take another lap around the deck and then we go to the Pavilion for early coffee. Maybe a little something to eat will help?"

"OK."

Liz seemed to be gone for quite a while. In fact, Fitz was beginning to wonder if she was doing this lap in slow motion, when he saw her walking toward him carrying coffee mugs and a plate of pastries.

"Here we go, I thought it would be better to stay out in the fresh air. Why don't we find chairs near to amidships. You know, less motion, physics and all that?"

"Thank you. You didn't have to carry all this up here."

"Hey, you brought me coffee yesterday morning. I sort of owe you. George won't be up for hours, so why don't we just veg out in deck chairs this morning. You might consider taking a nap. It would probably help. And now I'll stop being perky and let you have your coffee."

They sat in companionable silence, sipping coffee, nibbling pastries, and watching the sea. Liz turned to ask Fitz a question and saw that he had fallen asleep. She studied his face. He must have been dreaming, because he smiled slightly. How handsome he is when he smiles. Oh, those dimples. Does he have a clue about how good-looking he is? George is always preening, and admiring himself in any reflective surface, but he's not nearly so attractive.

Fitz stirred, and saw Liz looking at him. Blushing slightly, he asked, "How long was I asleep?"

"About a half hour. Good dream?"

I can't possibly tell you what it was. "I don't know. Did I appear to be dreaming?"

"Yeah, your nose was twitching, and your little paws were moving. Looked like you were dreaming of chasing squirrels."

Fitz shook his head.

"No, really, you smiled as if you were having a pleasant dream."

"Then I guess I was. You know, I'm feeling a lot better. How about another turn around the deck and then let's have a bit more breakfast?"

Chapter 23

After breakfast, Fitz went to the Library to find something to read. Liz returned to her cabin to change into a swimsuit before returning to her deck chair.

Liz finished reading the morning "newspaper," an eight-page condensed version of the New York Times that was faxed to the ship each morning. Liz couldn't help feeling a bit smug when she noticed that the weather report called for rain in New York. She felt decadent reclining in a deck chair on a sunny day at sea while her coworkers were sitting at their desks scowling out through rain-streaked windows.

Mmmm. I could learn to live like this. Her musings were interrupted when a shadow fell across her. Looking up, she saw Fitz.

"Be careful of your skin. Remember, we're heading south. You can burn quickly because the sun's rays become more direct."

"Have you been talking to Jane's sister?"

"Who?"

"Charlotte Lucas. Jane says that Charlotte is a whiz at science."

"Do I know this Charlotte?"

"No, but you met Jane the day we sailed."

How could I forget-Bingley's angel! "Tall blonde, right?"

"That's right. Jane took me shopping so that I'd have an appropriate wardrobe and not embarrass you."

"I guess she would be the friend who talked you into the straw hat?" And the red dress? And that swimsuit??"

"Yes. We agreed on most choices, although I picked out this swimsuit. I didn't think I'd be comfortable swimming in the one she picked out."

Liz lowered the back of her deck chair and rolled onto her stomach. She looked at Fitz over her shoulder.

"Do me a favor and put some sunscreen on my back? I slathered myself before I left my cabin, but I'm not sure I got my back covered evenly."

Fitz sat on the chair next to Liz's and took the tube of sunscreen she held out to him. He squeezed a line of the cream down Liz's back.

"Yikes! That's cold! Sadist!"

"You asked me to do this. I can't help it if the stuff is cold." He slowly rubbed the lotion into her skin. As he got to her neck, he pushed the loose tendrils of hair out of the way with one hand as the spread the lotion across her neck with the other. The touch of his hand on her neck made Liz shiver involuntarily. Fitz was seized by a desire to kiss the back of her neck, then realized that he had just smeared sunscreen on it. This is torture, he sighed.

"What?"

Did I say that out loud? "Nothing." Recovering his wits, he added, "So what now?"

"I'll read for a while and hope George comes along." She held up a romance novel.

"You're reading THAT?"

She grinned and slipped the romance cover off another paperback, London.

"Travel book?"

"No, historical fiction. The author tells the history of the city through several generations of families that live there."

"Why the trashy cover?"

"That cover is part of MY 'cover.' George isn't supposed to think I've got a brain." Liz favored Fitz with batting eyelashes and a simpering giggle, "Ooh, look, the man on the cover looks just like you, George!"

"Unbelievable."

"Hey, details are important to a good performance. Speaking of details, George had some rather interesting details about you. Were you really a Seal?"

"Did he say that I was a Seal?"

"No, what he said was that you would claim to have been one, but that you actually flunked out of the training."

"Oh. Well, I never claimed to have been a Seal, although it's true that I did train to be one."

"So did you flunk out?"

"Not exactly. I had to drop out because of the diving. I kept getting sinus infections. You know, the pressure changes. Physics and all that. So then I transferred-" He broke off as Liz rolled onto her side and glared at him. "What's wrong?"

She narrowed her eyes and hissed, "George is coming. You're annoying me and I'm trying to get rid of you. Quick, let's hear a pickup line."

"You know, I'd love to teach you to snorkel when we get to the Bahamas. I was a Navy Seal. I'd take you scuba diving, but you aren't a certified diver. But in shallow water, snorkeling is almost as good. How about it?"

"I really don't think so. Do you mind? I'd like to get back to my book."

Fitz shrugged, rose, and started to walk away. He heard George greet Liz, "Hi gorgeous!" Glancing over his shoulder, Fitz saw Liz smiling at George. George smirked at Fitz before looking down at Liz.

"Hi George! Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"It is now. So what's with Darcy?"

"Oh, really, with his money, you'd think he could buy some better pickup lines! How are you today?"

"Fantastic! I had a great night at the tables last night, so I bought you a present this morning." He sat on the deck chair next to Liz's and handed Liz a black velvet box.

Liz opened the box to see a gold bracelet set with rubies.

"Oh, George, it's exquisite!"

"When I saw this, I thought of your red dress and knew that this would be perfect for you."

"I can't accept this, George. It must have cost a fortune!"

"Don't worry about it. Think of it this way. I didn't buy it for you, Austen's casino did! And don't even think of trying to return it or looking up the price in the shop. It's a one-of-a-kind and they have nothing else like it." He fastened the bracelet around Liz's wrist.

"Wear it tonight. We'll go to the casino." That'll show that stuck-up Mary King from the casino that she shouldn't have stood me up last night!

Liz and George sat in the sun and chatted idly. Liz noticed that George kept steering the conversation back to Fitz.

"George, you shouldn't think about him so much. It will only upset you."

"I know. It's just that he annoys me. he likes to impress women with his money, but he never stays with one for long. Love 'em and leave 'em, that's Fitz. He even dumped his best friend's sister. I can't believe Charlie is willing to continue to work with Fitz."

"How awful! I wonder why people put up with such behavior."

"Money, Liz, A woman could put up with a lot to have access to all that money."

"Not me. It would be nice to be rich, of course, but not if it meant life with an arrogant jerk."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I hate to bad-mouth Fitz, but I don't want you to be hurt."

"It's sweet of you to worry about me, George."

"My pleasure. And while I'm taking care of you, let me take you to lunch."

"Oh, I had a late breakfast, so I'm not really hungry."

"You're not seasick, are you?"

"No, no. I quite like the motion. I'm just not hungry, and I'm so comfy in my deck chair." She stretched and held out her arm. "And I love the way the sun sparkles on my bracelet."

"I'm glad you like it. I'm off to have some lunch, and then I think I'll stop by the casino. Maybe you can join me there later for a drink?"

"OK. I'll look for you later."

As soon as George was out of sight, Liz dashed to a house phone.

Chapter 24

Fitz was dozing and watching CNN on the cabin TV when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right down!"

About a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Fitz opened the door and there stood Liz, breathless and grinning.

"Sorry, were you taking a nap?"

"That's all right. What's happened?"

"Look what George gave me!" cried Liz, thrusting her arm in front of Fitz's nose.

"Congratulations. You really have made a conquest."

"Look at it!"

"I'm looking. Rubies. Think they're real? I haven't known George to spend so much on a woman." Fitz eyed Liz suspiciously.

"Nice! And what you really want to know is what I did to earn this, right?"

"I didn't say that!"

"No, but you were thinking it! And George may be expecting to get something in return for his generosity, but he isn't going to get it. Look, I didn't come here to argue. I want you to look at this." She held out her arm again.

"I did look at it."

"Help me take it off, the clasp is tricky."

"So I see. My sister has a bracelet with a clasp like this. It belonged to my grandmother." He opened the clasp and Liz slid the bracelet off her wrist.

"Exactly!" Liz crowed. "Your GRANDMOTHER had a bracelet like this. So did mine. Fitz, George did not buy this today. It's old. This kind of bangle, with two parts hinged together is very old-fashioned."

Fitz nodded, "And valuable. So if he didn't buy it, where did he get it, hmm? It must be the proceeds of one of his scams."

"Maybe it's one of the pieces he stole from Lydia. Do you have the file listing the pieces he stole?"

"I have descriptions. I didn't bring the pictures with me. But I can call the insurance company and have them send me a picture."

"Fitz reached under his bed and pulled out a briefcase. He removed a file and scanned a list, "Earrings; pendant; ring, diamond; ring, emerald; bracelet...This could be it. Gold bangle, 20 rubies, hinged, clasp with guard."

"That's it! I'd bet on it! Call the insurance company!"

Liz went to her cabin to put the bracelet in the safe in her closet. Fitz called Atlantic Insurance and asked to have a photograph of the bracelet emailed to him.

Captain Wentworth met Fitz in the hallway. "Come to my quarters, it's more private than the bridge."

"Do you have a computer in there?"

"Yes, the one on the bridge is strictly for the ship's business. This one is for my personal use. I have to admit, it's kind of a toy," he continued, opening the door to his cabin.

Fitz smiled when he saw the desk covered with equipment. "I see you have scanner and a digital camera. I assume you have a color printer?"

"The works. This is my playroom," he gestured toward the desk. "How can I help?"

"Just tell me how to log onto the Internet. I can access my email from any computer, but I didn't want to do this in the public computer room. It isn't likely that Wickham would walk by, but I didn't want to risk it."

"Absolutely. Let me get you on line and then I'll leave you to it. There you are. Sit." He got up, leaving the desk chair for Fitz.

Captain Wentworth walked toward the door, but Fitz stopped him. "Stay if you have the time. This won't take long."

"You're sure I'm not invading your privacy while you check the email?"

"No, I am the one who's invading YOUR privacy. Please stay."

Fitz logged onto his provider and checked his inbox. Atlantic Insurance had wasted no time in getting the photograph to him. He opened the file, and there was Liz's bracelet. "Bingo! We've got him!"

The printer whirred to life. While he waited for the picture to come out, Fitz took another look at the list of emails. Nothing looked pressing, but he did see one from [e-mail].

Fitzwilliam,

Lewis tells me you had some woman with you in Bermuda. Just who is she? Who are her parents? Do I know her family? Where did you meet her? Is it serious? Why haven't I heard about her before? Your uncle says she is charming, but we both know how easily he can be won over. When will I get the chance to meet this woman? I just hope she's an improvement over that pretentious stick insect you had with you the last time you were at Rosings!

Yours & etc.,
Aunt Catherine

Fitz chuckled and shook his head.

Captain Wentworth looked up, "Is something wrong?"

"No, just my dear aunt prying into my life as usual. Uncle Lewis told her about Liz, so now Aunt Catherine is giving me the third degree about her. Here, read it and then log off. I don't want to waste expensive satellite minutes."

Captain Wentworth sat at the desk and read the email. He clicked "logout" and Fitz's file left the screen. "Man, I can just hear her voice when I read this. Your aunt is one of a kind."

"Yes, she is. Much as I love her, I am grateful that she is ONE of a kind!"

"Hmm, your Liz and your Aunt Cat. I'd buy tickets to that!"

"She isn't MY Liz, Fred."

"Too bad, she-Oh, I forgot to give you this." He handed Fitz a folder from the photographer.

Fitz opened the folder and saw the picture of himself dancing with Liz. "I'd forgotten about this."

"Anne, um, Ms Eliot saw this in the photo gallery and told me what a great picture it is of both of you. I thought it shouldn't be out where George might see it. I had to explain a bit of what's going on to Ms. Eliot. I hope you don't mind.

"You two look perfect together. You know, this would make a great brochure picture. I can see the ad campaign now, 'Forget the Loveboat. Find romance with Austen.' Pretty good, huh?"

"You can't believe everything you see in brochures, Fred."

"Take another look, Fitz, I think there's something there."

Fitz decided it was time to turn the tables. "Well, while we're on the subject of Liz and 'something there,' she sees something between you and Ms. Eliot."

"I don't know, Fitz. We've known each other for a long time, but working together, well, it makes things awkward."

Fitz sighed, "Sometimes I think EVERYTHING to do with women is awkward."

Chapter 25

Posted on Sunday, 23 September 2001

Liz looked at the bracelet one more time before locking it securely in the safe in her cabin. Should I wear it tonight? As it is, I'm receiving stolen property. Would wearing it make it worse?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She opened the door and was surprised to see Anne Eliot standing there.

"Hello, Ms. Eliot."

"Please call me Anne."

"Come in, Anne. And call me Liz."

Anne held out a folder from the ship's photographer. "Here, I saw this in the photographer's gallery. When I mentioned it to the captain, he said we should make sure you got it. It's a lovely picture. You two look perfect together."

Liz looked at the picture. "Yes, that was one of our better moments together. He can be very annoying at times. Well, all right, we BOTH seem to have a knack for irritating the other."

"What's that old saying about needing some grit to make a pearl?"

"Anne, you wouldn't be matchmaking, now would you?"

"Me? Never! I don't believe in meddling in other people's affairs."

"Fitz and I are not having an affair. We're, um..."

"I know, Liz, you're working together. Captain Wentworth told me a little about it when he explained why we should get that picture out of the gallery. But all work and no play?"

"The 'play' that goes on between Fitz and me is all about our cover on this job. He isn't really interested in me. And what about you, Anne? You don't work 24/7, and neither does your handsome Captain Wentworth. I could see how you looked at him the other night at dinner."

"Oh, dear. I didn't think it showed. I really must be more careful."

"Why? He seems very nice."

"Yes, he is. But when we first worked together, I was just an assistant on the Cruise Director's staff, and Frederick, um, Captain Wentworth, was First Officer. The Cruise Director warned me against shipboard romances. She said not to pay attention to any officer if he seemed interested, because he would just be showing kindness to a new crew member. I transferred to another ship in the line, and I didn't see Captain Wentworth until this year, when I was transferred to the Pride."

"What IS it about this no-romance-at-work thing? Fitz has some sort of rule against it, too. He said something about warning a colleague against getting involved with a client."

Anne shook her head, "Well, I don't know anything about Fitz's rule, but take another look at that picture. You both look pretty interested, and I don't think either of you is acting. Well, I must run. Lots of things to do tonight. It's another formal night. Oh, I almost forgot. The officers are having a cocktail party for some of the guests, and the captain asked me to invite you. The Officers' Ward Room is-oh, never mind, Fitz will know where it is. It's at 6:30, see you then!"

The phone on the Bridge rang. "Bridge, Officer of the Watch speaking," said Third Officer O'Shaughnessy crisply. He turned to the Captain Wentworth, "For you sir, Ms Eliot."

"Yes?"

"I delivered the photograph. She doesn't see in it what we see. But I tried to plant a few seeds anyhow."

"Well, done Anne," he glanced around quickly to see if anyone had heard his slip. "Um, Ms. Eliot. Well done, indeed."

Liz spotted George in the Casino, playing a poker machine near his usual blackjack table. "Hello, George. Not playing blackjack?"

"Hi, Gorgeous!" he replied a bit loudly. "No blackjack for me this afternoon, it was getting boring."

As he said this, Mary King gave him a sour look from behind the table. Liz wondered why George was projecting his voice, but then she saw Mary King, and it made sense. So she played along.

"Oh, poor George!" she pouted. "What a shame. And now I'm going to disappoint you, too. I can't stay and have a drink right now because it's formal night and I have to go back to my cabin and make myself pretty for you. But we can have that drink later. I'll see you after dinner?"

"You bet!"

As Liz walked away, she could see George's smug expression in his reflection in the windows. It was a good thing she didn't look at Mary King. The dealer's expression might have turned Liz to stone.

Liz pushed up the sleeves of the Pride bathrobe and combed the tangles out of her wet hair. She was about to plug in the hair dryer when she saw a sheet of paper slide under the door. Recognizing Fitz's writing, she ran to the door and opened it to see Fitz walking down the hallway.

"Fitz?"

He turned. "I was just leaving you a note."

"So I see."

"If you have a minute, I'd like to talk to you."

"Well, I'm, uh..."

"Just a minute or two."

"OK. Try not to notice the mess."

He followed her into her cabin. Two pairs of heels, one pair of sandals, and a pair of running shoes littered the floor. An evening bag and a garment wrapped in tissue paper shared the bed with the shorts and T-shirt Liz had been wearing earlier. Shopping bags from the day in Bermuda filled the armchair. Liz scooped up the dirty clothes from the bed and Fitz sat down in the space she had cleared.

Still holding the hairdryer and comb, Liz said, "So? What's up?"

"Just wanted you to know that your hunch paid off. The bracelet is part of the loot stolen from Lydia. And it is worth quite a lot."

"Hmm, that creates a problem."

"You haven't lost it?"

"No, don't panic. It's in the safe in the closet. The problem is, do I wear it tonight? George wants me to wear it. I saw him briefly in the casino this afternoon, and I got the impression that he's playing me against this girl in the casino."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know exactly, but he wanted her to hear our conversation and know that we're meeting for a drink after dinner. I think he wants her to see me with his generous gift."

"From what we know, George doesn't work with an accomplice."

"I don't think it's anything like that. I think he's trying to get her attention or make her jealous. Not related to the case. So, do I wear the bracelet tonight? I mean, is it ethical, given the case and all that?"

"Hey, you're the lawyer, don't you know? Seriously, Liz, I guess you have to. We're almost there. It's no time to make George suspicious." He grimaced.

"What now?"

"I have a bad feeling about you meeting him tonight. I think he's going to want some return on his investment."

"Investment?"

"The bracelet. Don't you think he expects something in return?"

"He already got it, Fitz."

"WHAT???"

"I smiled and said 'Thank you.' That is all he's going to get. So is there anything else? I'm trying to get myself together for tonight."

"Right, tonight. We're invited for a drink in the Officer's Ward Room. Will you be ready by 6:30?"

"I'll do my best."

Chapter 26

Fitz straightened his tie, smoothed the front of his jacket and knocked on the door. Through the door, he heard Liz yell "Gah! You're early! Go away!"

"Only a few minutes early. Liz, let me in," he hissed. "What if George walks by and sees me here?"

She opened the door, muttering something he couldn't quite make out.

"What?"

"Earrings, earrings. Here they are! You know, Fitz, the last ten minutes before a date are the most crucial for getting ready. Um, well, not that this is a date, but, um, you know what I mean."

He looked at what she was wearing. Red again. This time, a red silk camisole and a flared mid-calf black skirt. He tried not to notice the way the camisole clung or what she was obviously NOT wearing underneath it. He did not want to think about how George would react to this outfit.

Liz thought that he was looking at her necklace, a heart-shaped pendant outlined in tiny rubies. "Isn't this a stroke of luck? I've had this necklace for years, and it will go with the bracelet perfectly."

"Yes, it's nice. Um, is that all you're wearing?"

"Oh," she replied, completely missing his point. "The bracelet. I'll get it." She opened the velvet box and took out the bracelet. "Can you do the catch for me? Wait, jacket first, I think."

She walked to the bed and picked up a black beaded jacket. She slipped it on, and held out her wrist for Fitz to put the bracelet on for her. The jacket did a great deal for Fitz's peace of mind.

Liz picked up her evening bag and said, "Ready to go."

"Not really."

"What?"

"Shoes."

"Oops! Always the last thing to go on before I leave and the first to come off when I get back." She stepped into her shoes and headed out the door.

When Liz and Fitz arrived at the wardroom, they were greeted by Captain Wentworth and First Officer Davis. "Welcome, glad you could come."

Liz smiled, "Thank you. So nice of you to invite us."

They accepted flutes of champagne from a waiter and wandered into the room. The walls were covered with plaques that had been presented to the Pride commemorating maiden calls in ports all over the world.

Anne Eliot joined them. "Impressive, isn't it? The Pride has been just about everywhere."

"Are you able to go ashore often?" asked Liz.

"Fairly often, but not always. I do my turn at handing out tickets for the tenders. You'll see how it works tomorrow. The private island is small and there's no dock big enough for the ship. So we anchor nearby and everyone goes ashore by tender. You come to a lounge, get a ticket, and wait to be called to go down to the tenders. The ticket system keeps people from lining up and jamming the hallways, although there are always a few who think they can beat the system by just showing up at the doorway. But the crew is very consistent. No ticket, no tender ride.

"What are the tenders?"

"We use the lifeboats to ferry people back and forth from the ship. Not as convenient as a docking port, like Bermuda, but at least you can say you've had a good look at a lifeboat."

Fitz had wandered away to talk to one of the officers, and Liz and Anne continued to chat.

"That is a great outfit, Liz."

"It isn't quite what I planned. This outfit is supposed to have a pale aqua top, but I wanted to wear the bracelet tonight-you know about the bracelet?" Anne nodded.

"Well, anyway, I wanted to wear the bracelet, so I needed something red. This camisole is actually a pajama top. I don't dare take off my jacket." Suddenly, she remembered Fitz's question, "Is that all you're wearing?" and blushed.

"Are you all right, Liz?"

"Fine. By the way, I like your outfit, too. Aqua is a great color on you."

Captain Wentworth walked up and added, "The color of the Caribbean Sea. Don't fall overboard, Ms. Eliot, you'll blend in with the water and we'll never find you." Then he added softly, "And what a great loss that would be."

Liz wanted to melt away into the crowd and leave them alone, but Captain Wentworth turned to her and asked, "Are you all ready for tomorrow? Do we need to go over the plans again?"

"No, I think we're ready. You can only plan so much. A certain amount of it has to be ad-libbed as the day goes on."

"Right. And tonight, Ms. Eliot, you're on surveillance duty. Fitz is worried about Liz and tonight's ad-libbing, so you're going to play the part of his date, and help him keep an eye on Liz and Wickham."

"It isn't necessary," Liz protested. "I'll be fine."

"Captain's orders, Ms. Bennet.

She saluted, "Aye, aye Sir!"

Liz hadn't heard Fitz walk up behind her, so she jumped when he said, "Wow, Captain, I'm impressed. I can't get her to take suggestions, much less orders, from me. How do you do it?"

"It's the uniform," replied Liz. "It produces such an air of authority."

"It's a lot more than just the uniform," murmured Anne.

"What was that?" asked Fitz.

"Um, it's time for dinner. Fitz, I'll see you after dinner. Liz, good luck tonight."

Fitz and Liz thanked their host for inviting them and left the Ward Room.

On the way into dinner, Liz and Fitz saw that the photographers were set up for taking portraits. Liz remembered that she hadn't found her portrait from the first formal night.

"Oh! My portrait!"

"Do you want to have your picture taken again?

"No, I just remembered that I didn't find my portrait at the photographer's gallery the other day. The photographer on duty said that he thought someone had bought it. Isn't that odd? Do you think George bought it? I mean, who else knows me?"

Fitz blushed, remembering his impulsive purchase of that very photograph. He was relieved when the headwaiter in the dining room greeted them, and he didn't have to come up with an answer to Liz's question.

Chapter 27

Posted on Saturday, 29 September 2001

A waiter led Liz and Fitz to their table and handed them menus.

Liz sighed, "I cannot believe I'm about to eat AGAIN! I should have walked three miles, not two, this morning."

"Try the Spa selection," answered Fitz, pointing to the left side of Liz's menu. "The food is lighter, but still very good. My sister claims that she never even reads that part of the menu. Come to think of it, she reads the desserts first, and works here way backwards. Once she gets up to the appetizers, she stops reading."

"How old is she?"

"Gina just turned nineteen. She's in her first year at Smith."

"Well, her nineteen-year-old metabolism is probably a lot faster than mine. The Spa menu sounds like a good idea."

John, their waiter, arrived to take their food orders, and then Fitz chose a bottle of sauvignon blanc to go with the dinner.

After the ordering was done, Liz turned serious. "So, Smith. Good school, your sister must be bright."

"Yes, she is, although she doesn't give herself enough credit for her academic skills or her musical ability. She's shy by nature, and then the, er, incident with George undermined her confidence a great deal. He was someone she thought she knew well, and he betrayed her trust. It has made her wary of meeting new people. She had nightmares for years."

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"How did you react to the whole thing?"

"Besides wanting to kill George? We called the police, of course, but Gina was hysterical and afraid people would find out, so we didn't press charges. She was too fragile to deal with a trial. I went into 'overprotective brother' mode. Probably too much, but she was my responsibility, and I was determined that nothing would ever hurt her again. We focused on her studies and her music lessons. She had little interest in a social life, as you can imagine."

"It sounds like a lonely life."

"Yes, we kind of retreated into our own world. As I said, I was probably too protective, but I didn't know what else to do. Thank goodness for my cousin, Anne. By taking on increased responsibility with the company, she gave me the time to care for Gina."

"And how is school going?"

"Gina's doing well. Frankly, I think I suffered separation anxiety more than she did. I also suspect that she calls Anne for advice more than she used to. She needs a woman's perspective, although I sometimes fear that Anne's 'take no prisoners' approach to life is a bit fierce for Gina's nature."

The conversation paused as John set down Liz's salad and Fitz's fruits de mer en croute."

Liz looked longingly at the puff pastry and cream sauce. Fitz smiled, "Regretting your choice?"

"No. As much as I like the looks of that, I know what's in there."

"What do you have against fruits de mer?" asked Fitz as he speared a tiny mussel.

"Well, for one, 'fruits de mer' is a sneaky euphemism for 'slimy things from the ocean.' I don't eat mollusks."

"Mollusks? Is that a culinary category?"

"No, biological. I don't like to eat things where you consume the whole critter, guts and all. That's why the only exception to my 'no mollusks' rule is scallops, because there you're eating only the muscles that hold the shell closed."

Fitz shook his head, and speared a tiny shrimp, dripping with cream sauce. "What about this critter?"

"Ah, shrimp. That's a crustacean. Definitely on the 'no guts, therefore OK' list."

"You should write a biologist's guide to eating. Might be a best seller."

"No, too gross. Most people don't want to know what their dinner was when it was alive." She noticed that Fitz's expression had turned grim. "What's wrong? I didn't mean to put you off your food."

He swallowed the last bite of his appetizer. "You didn't. I just realized that Gina is taking biology this semester. I am imagining a summer full of conversations like this."

Camille took away the appetizers as John set their main courses on the table.

Liz raised her glass of wine. "Here's to Gina and an A in Bio."

Fitz raised his glass, "To Gina." He paused, then added, "And here's to locking up that good-for-nothing George! That should give her closure on this whole thing, even if he is going to jail for another offense."

"You know, Fitz. I'm not so sure it's Gina who's in need of closure."

The look of surprise on his face told her that she was right on the mark. They ate in silence for a while. Fitz couldn't get past Liz's last comment. How does she read me so well? Why didn't I see this? This case is not supposed to be about revenge. It's supposed to be about helping to get a criminal put away. I must be more objective about this case. I must be more objective about this case. I must be more objective about Liz. Um, about this case.

"Fitz? Is your fish all right?"

"Yes, fine. I was just thinking about this case. I want you to know that I can deal with George objectively."

"You don't still want to kill him?"

"I didn't say that. But I will restrain myself." as long as he doesn't hurt you.

John appeared at the table. "How was the chicken?" he asked Liz.

"It was lovely, and the vegetables were perfectly grilled. Is it true that hardly anyone orders the Spa menu?"

He smiled, "Oh, no, Miss. Lots of people like lighter food. And it's usually about this point in the cruise where they begin to order it."

"So I'm not the only one with a guilty conscience?"

He shook his head and laughed as he handed her a menu.

Fitz read the list of desserts. "Liz, since you've been so good tonight, you really should have dessert." He turned to John. "We'll both have the opera cake."

Liz raised one eyebrow. "Do I get a choice here?"

"Trust me, you'll love this. And if you don't like it, John can always bring you something else."

John took away the menus and Camille set the table for dessert and coffee.

Fitz looked at Liz as she sipped her coffee and gazed out the window at the moonlight on the sea. Was she as worried about tonight as he was?

"Excuse me." John set the cakes on the table. "Here is the opera cake."

Liz looked at the square of cake, with its thin layers of sponge cake separated by thin layers of creamy frosting, topped with a layer of chocolate ganache. She took a small bite, and closed her eyes.

"Mmm."

"So am I forgiven for being presumptuous and ordering your dessert?"

"Don't be smug, Fitz." Liz reached for the sugar bowl, and the rubies on the bracelet sparkled. They both stared at the bracelet for a while, and then Liz spoke.

"Fitz, does it strike you as odd that George had this bracelet with him?"

"Yes, it does seem strange. Perhaps he wasn't able to sell it to any of his usual contacts. It is unusual. A diamond tennis bracelet, emerald stud earrings are fairly ordinary and would be hard to identify. This bracelet is not the sort of thing that comes along every day."

"I can see that something like this could be traced, but why did he pack it for this trip?"

"Any number of reasons. Maybe he wanted to try to pawn it or sell it in another port. Maybe he chose to take it along as bait for his next victim."

Liz shivered, "Victim. I don't like that word."

"Neither do I, which is why I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Are you sure George won't be suspicious if you show up in the same lounge tonight?"

"There aren't all that many bars on the ship, and the Colonel's Corner is the nicest. Anyhow, I'll be busy flirting with Anne. We'll sit at the bar and keep an eye on you in the mirror."

"And when we go to the casino?"

"Let's hope that it's crowded and I can just mix in with the crowd. Look, if things get out of hand and you need the cavalry, I'll be nearby."

"No, I can't call on you. I have to handle George on my own. We've managed this far; it's too close to the end to give away everything. I'm not fifteen, Fitz. I'm not your sister. You're not my big brother."

"Brother and sister? Indeed we are not." He paused. "Still, I do worry."

"Don't. Tell you what, if George gets to be too insistent, I can pretend to be seasick. You know, dash madly to the ladies room. What could be more off-putting than that?"

He shook his head slowly. "Whatever you say. And after you bid George goodnight, come to my cabin for a brief planning session. We may not have a lot of time in the morning. I'm going out on the crew tender, so I'll be on the island way ahead of you."

Anne Eliot approached the table. "Are we ready?"

Liz nodded. "All set. Anne, if I need to talk to you or give you a message for Fitz, I'll get up to go to the ladies room, and drop my purse. The dropped purse is the signal. Otherwise, if I get up, it's no big deal. Got it?"

Anne nodded, and the three of them left the dining room.

Chapter 28

Posted on Saturday, 29 September 2001

Liz arrived at the Colonel's corner before the others. George wasn't there yet, so she chose a table that would give Fitz a good view in the mirror. She had barely settled into her chair when George joined her.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"No, your timing is perfect. I just got here."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Ooh, I'm still rather full from dinner for anything big. I'll have a Kahlua on the rocks."

George signaled a waiter and ordered the drinks. He turned to look at Liz. "You wore it, I see."

Liz held out her wrist, looked at the bracelet, and smiled. "Of course I did, George. I promised, didn't I?"

Liz spied Fitz entering the lounge, but George's line of sight was blocked by the waiter who brought their drinks. By the time the waiter moved, Fitz was seated at the bar.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy. Would you like to try another single malt?"

"Good evening, Colonel. No, I definitely would not like to try another single malt. I'll just have mineral water with a twist of lime."

"Uh-oh. Bad head this morning?" He smiled at Fitz's nod. "I hope she's worth it."

"Who?"

"I don't believe you used a name. But you talked about 'her' a great deal last night."

"Oh, did I? And did you give me any good advice?"

"I'm afraid not, I-"

"Sorry I'm late, Fitz."

"Ms Eliot?" Richard whispered as he looked from Anne to Fitz and back again.

"Hi, Colonel." Anne smiled at the bartender. "Is something wrong?"

"Um, no. Excuse me." Richard walked to the end of the bar to take care of a waiter's order.

"Did I interrupt anything, Fitz?"

"No, no. It's nothing."

"Oops!" Anne picked up her evening bag, which had started to vibrate. "My pager, sorry. I have to make a phone call."

Anne walked to the end of the bar and picked up the house phone. Richard returned to Fitz and whispered, "Ms Eliot? She's the woman you were mooning over last night?"

"What? No, of course not. It was, um, someone else. Anne is just an acquaintance."

"Good, because I've always had this feeling that she has set her sights on a certain gentleman."

"Not you, too. Someone else mentioned to me that she seems interested in the Captain. I'm beginning to think some of you people have seen too many movies."

"What movies?" asked Anne as she returned to her seat.

"Movies with ships in them."

"Oh, there are lots of those. We did a trivia quiz on it one time. Aside from the obvious ones, like 'Titanic' and 'A Night to Remember,' there are plenty of movies with scenes on cruise ships. Let's see, the original 'Sabrina,' 'Royal Wedding,' 'An Affair to Remember,' oh, that one always makes me cry. And then, of course there's 'Now Voyager.' What's that line about moon and stars? I never can remember it. Sorry, gentlemen, I'm rambling." She looked at Fitz, who was gazing into the mirror. She estimated his line of sight and smiled as she realized that he was looking at Liz.

Liz sipped her drink and sighed. "So, George, did you have any luck at the poker machine today?"

"A little. But the casino is always more fun at night. More people, more tables with dealers. During the day it's mostly little old ladies at the slot machines. It will be their bedtime soon, and then the casino will swing into action with the big-time players. Can I get you another drink?"

"No, I'm still working on this one. But you go ahead if you want another."

George looked around for a waiter. What he saw at the bar surprised him. "What's he doing here?"

"Who's that, George?"

"Fitz Darcy. He appears to be trying to pick up that woman next to him. Poor thing. She's in for a boring evening. Oh, wait-isn't that what's-her-name, the ship's hostess? Oh well, she's paid to be nice to passengers."

"Her name is Anne Eliot, and she is very nice."

As Liz and George chatted, a group of musicians entered the lounge and began to set up to play for an hour or so. They offered to take requests, and one man requested "Brown Eyed Girl" in honor of his wife's eyes. George rolled his eyes, and Liz shook her head at him.

"Hush, George, it's very sweet."

"Shall I request something for us to dance to?"

"We can dance when I get back. I'm going to the ladies room. Excuse me." She got up from the table and saw that Anne was watching her. She held onto her evening bag with a firm grip, smiled at George, and walked out of the lounge.

"Oh, Fitz, before I forget. That page was from the Security Officer. You're cleared to go to the island on the first crew tender. Crew tender departures won't be announced, so just get yourself down to the tenders nice and early. The Security staff will be expecting you."

"Thank you. Oh, Liz is getting up. Wait, no, she didn't drop her bag. Do you think she forgot the signal?"

"No, Fitz, I just think she had to go to the bathroom. You need to relax. That's what a cruise is supposed to do for you, get you to mellow out."

"Excuse me, Ms Eliot?" Anne and Fitz turned to see George approaching the bar.

"Yes?"

"Would you care to dance?"

"I, ah, Mr. Darcy, do you mind?"

He shrugged. "No, go ahead." He was disgusted by George's antics. What is this about, George? Still trying to prove that you can take any and every woman away from me? Where were you when Caroline Bingley was all over me last year? No, even Caroline doesn't deserve YOU.

George had underestimated how long Liz would be gone. When she returned, he was still dancing with Anne. Liz stood in the doorway, trying to decide her next move. Fitz saw her and motioned for her to wait. Then he got up and cut in on George and Anne. Liz stood to one side of the door until she saw George sit down.

Smiling as though she had seen nothing, Liz returned to the table. "I'm ba-ack!" she called in a sing-song voice.

"I missed you!"

Struggling to keep the smile, she simpered, "Oh, George, that's so sweet." You missed me, did you? You snake! I'm barely out the door and you're hitting on someone else! Fitz was right. Any woman he looks at, you want.

"Shall we?"

Liz nodded, and they joined Fitz and Anne on the dance floor, just as the song ended.

There was a scattering of applause in the room and the singer said, "Thank you. While we're playing the best of Van, here's another one you probably know."

"I've been searching a long time
For someone exactly like you.
I've been traveling all around the world
Waiting for you to come through."

Fitz and Anne, Liz and George, and one other couple moved around the small dance floor. George pulled Liz close and gave Fitz another of his triumphant grins. Anne could feel the increased tension in her partner. Then George and Liz turned, and over George's shoulder, Liz found herself looking into Fitz's eyes.

Someone like you makes it all worthwhile.
Someone like you keeps me satisfied.
Someone exactly like you.

Liz stopped moving, and George stepped on her foot. She hardly noticed until George's voice got her attention.

"Liz, you OK?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. Just got lost in this great song."

"Maybe we should sit down for a bit and then go to the casino?

"Good idea. I must check my bag. I might have a few chips with me."

Someone like you makes it all worthwhile.
Someone like you keeps me satisfied.
Someone exactly like you.*

"Fitz? Hello? You in there? You need to breathe, Fitz."

"Sorry, Anne. I guess I'm too distracted. You know, worrying about tomorrow and all."

They returned to the bar. "Colonel!" called Fitz, "I think I will have that single malt now."

Anne smiled as Fitz knocked back his glass of Scotch. Too distracted, Fitz? And that would be due to...?

"Hey, they're getting up," she said softly. "Look at Liz. Clever girl!"

Fitz watched Liz walk out of the lounge with George. She had one arm linked with his, but her other arm was behind her back and she was holding a casino chip. No doubt about where she and George were headed.

*"Someone Like You," Van Morrison

Chapter 29

Posted on Saturday, 6 October 2001

Anne and Fitz watched Liz and George leave the Colonel's Corner. Fitz got up to leave, but Anne stopped him.

"Wait a minute." She went to the house phone, dialed a number and spoke quietly for about a minute. "I just asked the Security Officer to wander through the Casino. He knows what George looks like. He'll find out where they are in the room, and then you'll be able to get into a good position to watch them without giving yourself away."

"Anne, you are amazing. If you ever want to get out of the cruise business and become a private investigator, I'll give you a job any day."

She smiled. "Thanks, Fitz, but I have to tell you, I kind of like it here. But I'm glad to have been of assistance. I hope you nail this swine. I still can't get over the nerve of him. I mean, he just walked up to us and asked me to dance, right in front of you. How could you be so calm?"

"Concentration and training. One of the things I learned in the Navy was that you're of no use to your team if you can't keep your cool."

"I'm impressed. What did you do-ah, here's our lookout now. Fitz Darcy, Denny Sanderson."

"Good evening, Ms Eliot. Good evening, Mr. Darcy. They're at one of the craps tables. If you'll come with me sir, I'll walk you to the Casino."

Fitz turned to Anne, "Thank you for your help this evening." He took her hand and kissed it. "I hope Fred realizes what a gem he has in you."

George and Liz walked up to the cashier's window in the Casino. George bought some chips, and asked Liz how much she was going to play with.

"Ooh, no George," she simpered. "There are too many people here at night, and I'm still a bit slow at all of this. You said the action heats up, and I'm sure experienced players won't want me dithering over what to do. I'd rather just be your good luck charm."

George led Liz to Mary King's usual table, but the petite redhead wasn't there. Figuring that Mary was on a break, George sat down anyway and started to play. He hailed a passing waiter, and ordered drinks for himself and Liz.

About fifteen minutes later, Mary King came back on duty. "Hello everybody. All ready?" She looked around the table and saw George, with Liz hanging on his arm. She frowned for a moment, but then remembered her job, and started to deal.

The players were busy looking at their cards, so Mary King stole another moment to check out her competition. Seeing that he had an audience, George raised Liz's hand so that the bracelet was in view. With a flourish, he kissed Liz's hand.

"For luck."

"Good luck!" replied Liz, returning the dealer's glare with an innocent smile.

Mary King returned to her job, dealing out the cards as people asked for them. At the end of the hand, she had 19, which beat everyone at the table except George, who had 20. She gave him his winnings, with her most professional smile.

"Here you are, sir."

"Thank you." He turned to Liz and touched the bracelet. "Our good luck charm, is working, eh?"

Security Officer Sanderson took a circuitous route to the Casino. "They're at one of the blackjack tables on the port side, so we'll enter through the starboard side. While you're here, you'd best play something, even a slot machine. If you stand around watching a table, you may arouse the suspicion of Casino employees. Most people come here to play or watch their significant others play."

"Right, I don't want to be in the middle of something and have to move, so I'll just play the one-armed bandits tonight."

Fitz bought some slot-machine tokens and looked for a spot that would give him a good view of the table but still keep him out of George's line of sight. A gray-haired woman in a bright pink dress got up from one of the machines. Fitz took her place.

The woman tapped his shoulder and shook her bucket of tokens. "I don't recommend this one, Dear. I just got a good payoff from it, so it will want a lot of feeding."

Fitz shrugged, "I'll take my chances."

She smiled at Fitz, "Good luck then."

Fitz fed a few tokens in to the machine. I cannot believe that people spend hours doing this! He sighed and checked his view of the table. He could see the back of George's head, but only the top of Liz's head. Then someone in the crowd moved, and he saw George kiss Liz's hand and Liz smile up at him.

"Hey, are you gonna play this one, or just sit there?"

Fitz turned to see another gray-haired woman, this one wearing lime green.

"Excuse me?"

"Sonny, you're just sitting there. Are you playing or not?"

"Sorry. Yes, I am playing." And he put a few more tokens in the machine.

George continued to play for another half hour. He had lost a little, then won back more than he had lost. Every time Mary King had to hand over his winnings, he grinned at her. He appeared to be just a happy winner, but she knew that he was laughing at her, acknowledging that he was beating her at her table.

Liz watched, smiled, and flattered George. She wasn't quite sure what was going on between George and the dealer, but George seemed happy with her performance as doting girlfriend, so she forced herself to stay in character. She almost lost her composure a few minutes later, however.

"Hey, Lizzie. I think it's about time to move on to the craps table. But the stakes are higher there. So be a good girl and get me another $500 in chips." As she started to walk away, he swatted her playfully on the backside. "Oh, and get me another drink, too. Scotch and soda."

It was a good thing that neither George nor Mary King could see Liz's face. "George!" she managed to squeal, and forced herself to make giggling sounds as she trotted dutifully toward the cashier's window."

George looked at the faces at the blackjack table. Mary King looked astonished. Two women looked disgusted. One man looked envious until his wife elbowed him sharply. George laughed and said, "She's devoted to me, bless her heart."

"George!" Fitz heard Liz squeal. He looked around frantically and then he saw her. She was having trouble controlling the look of anger on her face. Then, strangely, she started to giggle. But it was an odd giggle. Is she all right?

Meanwhile, George had turned his attention back to the table. Fitz couldn't decide what to do. Did she need him? Should he go after her? Just as he was getting up from his place at the slot machine, Liz stopped walking.

She took a deep breath and looked back to make sure that George was not paying attention to her, then scanned the room for Fitz. She caught his eye. He looks almost panicky. Did he hear me yell? Is that what's wrong?She held up her hand as if to say "stop," and Fitz sat down again.

Without even thinking what he was doing. Fitz gave her the divers' "OK?" sign. To his amazement, she nodded and returned the sign.

Fitz continued to play the slot machine slowly, but attentively enough to keep people from asking him if he was finished. He alternately watched Liz at the cashier's window and George at the table. He saw George leave the blackjack table, so he bent down to scoop out tokens that had accumulated in the trough of the machine. In the shiny surface of the machine, he could see George pass by.

Fitz surrendered his spot at the slot machine. A second later, a young couple took over, laughing as they fed tokens into the machine. Fitz shook his head. Do those machines ever get a chance to cool off? He sighed and moved to a new position to resume watching George.

Across the room, Mary King watched Liz and wondered what she was up to with the signals. Try as she might, she couldn't spot the other half of the conversation. A new dealer arrived, and Mary King took another break. Curious, she followed George toward the craps table, where Liz was waiting with his chips and his drink.

She hung back in the crowd, watching Liz smile and giggle while George bet on the game. When George took over as shooter, Liz excused herself and appeared to be walking toward the bar. Mary King decided that this was her opportunity.

She confronted Liz. "Look, lady, I don't know what you're up to, but I should warn you that we have security here, and they'll catch you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saw you making signals to some confederate in the room. I should have known that George was up to something. So who else is in on it with you?"

"In on what?" Liz was getting tired of the casino, tired of George, tired of smiling. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. But that would only mess things up. And then Fitz, wherever he was, would come running.

"I don't know what exactly, some sort of cheating scam."

"I'm not up to anything. By the way, won't your employers think you're in on something too, if they see you talking to me?"

This had the intended result of silencing Mary King. Liz pondered her next move. Then inspiration struck.

"Hey! You know George by name. How do you know him?"

"Figure it out, honey." was the sarcastic reply. "You went ashore in Bermuda, didn't you? Well, George didn't, and neither did I."

Liz stood speechless and tried to look shocked as she began to work out a plan.

Mary King obliged her by continuing, "Geez, you really are that dumb, aren't you? What did you expect?" She picked up Liz's arm and looked at the bracelet. "At least you got some nice hardware out of it."

Liz jerked her arm away, turned and walked toward George. Thank you, Mary King! This is much better than pretending to be seasick!

The timing couldn't have been better. George had just lost his position as shooter and was leaving the craps table. Liz bit her lip and blinked her eyes rapidly, hoping to look tearful.

"George!" she whined.

"What?" he snapped back at her.

"That dealer (sniff). She said (sniff)," Liz swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "She (sniff) said that you and she (sniff) slept together. George, how could you?"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Liz! I was bored. You were off the ship, and she flirted with me. Why, that little tramp threw herself at me. It's no big deal."

"Well, (sniff) maybe it is a big deal to me."

"Oh, come on Liz," he wheedled. "I'll make it up to you. I'll spend all day with you tomorrow at the beach party. Nobody else. I'll buy you a present at the straw market. Forgive me?"

"I don't know. I need to think about this. I'll tell you tomorrow if I want to forgive you. We can talk about it tomorrow on the beach. Good night." With her lower lip quivering, she raised her chin, squared her shoulders, turned, and made a dignified exit.

Fitz stayed in the Casino just long enough to make sure that George didn't follow Liz out. Once he saw that George was occupied at a poker table, he slipped out of the room.

Fitz headed back to his cabin, hoping that Liz would remember his request for one last meeting. He hadn't heard a word of what had been said in the casino, and he was dying to hear the story. Clearly, Liz had been in control of the entire situation. He was proud of the good job she had done, but also a little disappointed that she hadn't need "the cavalry" to rescue her.

He rounded the corner near his cabin and saw her sitting on the floor outside his door. She had her head in her hands and her shoulders were shaking.

Chapter 30

Posted on Saturday, 6 October 2001

"Liz? Oh, God, Liz? What is it?" He knelt beside her. "Liz, don't cry."

She lifted her tear-streaked face and grinned at him. "I can't help it, I thought if I had to stay in there another second, I'd burst."

"You're laughing?"

"Yes, sorry, did you think I was crying?" She wiped away another tear.

He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and stood up next to him as he opened the cabin door. He flicked on the light and gestured for her to enter.

She walked over to one of the beds, sat down, and took a tissue from the box on the dresser. Dabbing at her eyes, she said, "What a night!"

"What happened?"

"Well, let's see, first, George made sure that Mary King saw the bracelet."

"Who?"

"Mary King, the redhead. She's a dealer. She thinks, oh-" Liz dissolved into gales of laughter again. She tried to catch her breath and start over. "She saw you and me gesturing, and thought we were (hic) working out some sort of (hic) cheating system. Oh, nuts! Now I've got the (hic) hiccups!"

Fitz sat, helpless, watching Liz laugh. Still laughing, she pointed to his phone. The message light was blinking.

He retrieved the message, which was from Anne Eliot. Fitz punched in the pager number Anne had left in the message. He entered his cabin number and hung up the phone.

"Anne wants to know what happened."

Before he could say anything else, the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Fitz! Oh, good, tell me all! Why don't you and Liz come to my office for a nightcap. What is going on there?"

"That is the assorted sounds of Liz Bennet. We'll be there as soon as she gets herself under control." He hung up. Liz slid off the bed onto the floor, still laughing and hiccuping.

"I am so sorry, Fitz. It's nervous laughter. Delayed stress. I'll be OK in a (hic) minute."

By the time they reached Anne Eliot's office, Liz's hiccups had subsided, and she was able to keep a straight face as long as she didn't try to talk. The minute she saw Anne, Liz started to giggle again. Fitz sighed and shook his head.

"Just let her go, Anne. Apparently, this goes away after a while."

"Very well, in the meantime, can I get you a drink? Or would you prefer a snack? It's almost time for the midnight buffet. I can have a steward bring us tea and some goodies?"

"Op(hic)era cake," wheezed Liz. "Gah! They're (hic) back!"

Anne ordered their snack, Liz finally got control of herself, and Fitz leaned back in his chair and untied his tie.

Over tea, cookies, and opera cake, Liz described the evening's events for Anne and Fitz. When she got to the swat on the backside, Fitz interrupted.

"Ah, so that explains it. I could not figure out what was going on. You looked mad as thunder, but you were giggling."

"George had to think that I thought it was funny. I still can't believe he did that in front of all those people. And then, Fitz, you looked so strange!

"Oh, Anne, this is the really funny part. Fitz looked like he was going to jump up and do something, so I gestured for him to stop. Then he flashed the diver 'OK?' sign at me, like Mr. I-used-to-be-a-Navy-Seal."

"Fitz," Anne interrupted, "You were a-"

"No, I wasn't. That's a whole other story. Anyhow, she flashed the 'OK' sign right back at me. How did you know that, but the way?"

Liz smiled. "I took scuba lessons in college. In the pool. And that's another story, too. But to get back to tonight, here's the funny bit. That dealer, Mary King, saw me gesturing and thought I was in cahoots with someone on some kind of cheating scam. When she confronted me, she also told me about what she and George had been up to while I was ashore in Bermuda. I used that as an excuse to act wounded (sniff) and confront George pitifully (sniff). And that was my out."

"Well done, Liz," said Anne. "It sounds like quite a performance."

"It certainly looked good," added Fitz. "I could see, but not hear. It was driving me crazy. So, Liz, do you think George is angry at you for taking offense at his unfaithfulness?"

"I think he was surprised at getting caught. He said he'd make it up to me by spending all day with me at the beach party. I said I'd think it over and talk to him tomorrow on the beach. That should get him ashore. So am I good or what?" She swiped Fitz's piece of opera cake. He opened his mouth to protest, but instead he just smiled.

Fitz walked Liz to her cabin. As he was about to say goodnight, her remembered something. "I have to give you something. I'll be right back."

Liz went inside and waited. She took off her shoes and her earrings. She was struggling with the bracelet when Fitz returned.

"Oh, good, help me with this catch. It must be from the days when ladies had maids to do this for them. Thanks." She put the bracelet back into its box.

"Here." Fitz handed her what looked like a tape player.

"I already have a Walkman, but thanks anyway."

"It isn't an ordinary Walkman. It has a special radio in it. If you wear this on your walk tomorrow, you'll be able to hear what the rest of the team is saying. There's a button microphone on the headphone wire, so you can talk to us, too. After seeing you in action tonight, I'm sure you'll be able to make it look like you're singing along."

"Thanks. Wow, all of a sudden I am tired."

"I'll bet you are. See you in the morning, then." He walked toward the door.

"Um, Fitz?"

He turned to look at her.

"Thanks. For tonight."

"I didn't do anything."

"But you were there. Even though I didn't think I'd need rescuing, it was nice to know that the cavalry was nearby."

"Any time. Goodnight, Liz."

"Night, Fitz."

Chapter 31

Posted on Friday, 12 October 2001

Liz woke up when the Pride dropped anchor off Derbyshire Island. She looked at her clock. "Arrgh. 6:30," she mumbled. She rolled over, punched her pillow, and tried to go back to sleep. She had spent a restless night and couldn't bear to get up yet.

But sleep would not reclaim her. After a half hour of kicking the covers off, pulling them on again, squishing her pillow, and rolling over and over and over, she sat up. She reached for the telephone. More than anything, she wanted to call Fitz and say she wasn't getting off the ship.

Pulling her hand back, she sighed. You can do this. You CAN do this. She did some stretches, got dressed and went up to the Promenade Deck for an early jog around the deck.

Fitz was startled out of sleep by the shrill ring of the telephone.

"Hlmm?"

"Good morning," said the cheerful computer voice. "It's six o'clock. This is your wake-up call. Have a great day!"

Fitz groaned and threw off the covers, hoping the cool air would help him wake up. He got up, showered, and dressed. Just as he finished dressing, his room-service breakfast was delivered. Not knowing what would happen on the island, he knew he had to eat a good breakfast, but he was surprised to find out that he was truly hungry.

Down on 5 deck, Fitz found the crew getting ready to launch the lifeboats for use as tenders to carry crew and passengers to Derbyshire Island. Security Officer Sanderson greeted him cordially.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy. The tender won't leave for about 20 minutes. Join me for some coffee?"

The two men rode the crew elevator up to the officers' wardroom. Coffee mugs in hand, they sat at a small table and took another look at the map of the island. After 10 minutes of reviewing the plan for the day, Fitz stood up and said, "Let's go. We've planned as much as we can. Given Liz's talent for ad-libbing, anything may happen today."

When Fitz got back to 5 deck, he saw that the tender was filling rapidly. Deck stewards in bright tropical shirts joked with kitchen stewards in white uniforms. Crates of food were piled at the back. Fitz joined the officers who were getting on the boat. And in a few minutes, they were away. Fitz looked up to admire the Pride's clean lines, and saw Liz run along the deck. She looks so relaxed and confident. I thought she'd be nervous. How does she do that?

Thud, thud thud. Liz's feet pounded the deck as she ran. She willed George from her mind, and concentrated on the clean air and warm sunshine. She heard a rumbling noise from the water, and watched as the first tender of the morning pulled away. Good luck, Fitz, she thought.

The tender pulled along the little dock. Looking at the beach, Fitz saw three young men waving and walking toward the dock.

"Hey! Good morning!" they called to him.

"How did you get here?"

The divers introduced themselves and explained, "We live here. Austen has several ships in the area, and each one stops here on a different day. So they keep a few divers here for safety and security. While passengers are on the island, we do lifeguard duty, man the dive shack, give snorkeling lessons, stuff like that. I understand we're supposed to set you up with whatever you need."

"Right. I don't even know if I'll need snorkeling equipment, but I might as well check some out now just in case. Since there's no parallel path to the lighthouse, I may need to swim around those rocks to a pickup point and catch a ride to the other side."

"I think we can find an easier way to get you a ride. But do take the snorkel equipment. In fact, let's take a swim now. Passengers won't be here for an hour, so relax and enjoy. When you see the first passenger tender heading for the island, duck into the men's room, and wait until the crowd mills around. Nobody will notice that you were there in advance of the crowd."

By the time Fitz and Mort, one of the divers, finished their swim, another tender full of crew arrived. This time, bartenders and photographers were the new arrivals. One of the photographers has wearing swim trunks and formal tailcoat.

Seeing Fitz's look of astonishment, Mort laughed. "One of the photographers dresses up like a formal waiter, and carries a tray with glasses glued to it. He poses with passengers in the water. Don't knock it. The pictures actually do turn out cute. Come on, let me show you some of the paths around here."

After a quick breakfast, Liz found her way to the lounge where Anne was dispensing tender tickets. She smiled at Liz and whispered, "Here you go. I saved you a ticket for the first tender. Good luck."

Liz had to wait only 10 minutes before her tender number was called. She joined the crowd of passengers making their way down to 5 deck. One by one, the passengers were logged out with their security cards, then assisted into the tender. The ride to the beach took only 10 minutes. As they neared the island, Liz looked for Fitz, but didn't see him anywhere.

When the tender was tied at the dock, passengers swarmed off the boat and onto the beach, staking out beach chairs and umbrellas. A line formed quickly at the dive shack, as people collected snorkels, masks, and fins. One of the divers stood in the shallow water, helping people get their equipment on correctly.

Liz walked toward the beach chairs and looked around. There certainly were plenty of chairs and umbrellas lined up along the sand. Behind the sandy area there were picnic tables and hammocks in the shade of palm trees. Still farther away was a covered area where kitchen crew were putting out fruit and cookies for a mid-morning snack and getting the grills started for lunch. A waiter walked by with cold drinks.

Liz chose a chair near the steps that led to the shaded area. She was about to sit down when a deep voice behind her said, "Good, you're here."

"Reporting for duty, sir!" She turned around and saluted. She had to make a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping open at the sight of Fitz standing there, wet, in short swim trunks. She had to suppress an urge to run her fingers through his hair, which was curling as it dried.

"Come on." He picked up her beach bag and walked toward the shade. "Geez, what's in this thing? Um, Liz? Hello?"

"Hmm? What?"

"I asked what you have in here, bricks?"

"No, nothing much. Sunscreen, water bottle, my book, your radio thing."

"Speaking of the radio, we need to test it. Your stuff will be OK here." Fitz tossed her bag into a hammock next to his own bag. He pulled out his radio, then reached for Liz's bag.

"May I?"

Liz nodded. Fitz opened the top of the bag and removed Liz's radio. He led her down a path into the trees.

At the fork in the path, he pointed, "That's the path to the lighthouse. And this path leads to a rocky stretch of the shoreline. Come on."

After walking a few hundred yards, they came to huge rocks, with the sea just beyond. The Pride was barely visible through the scrubby beach vegetation.

Fitz put on his headset and turned on his radio. "Testing. Anyone there?" All he heard was static.

Liz picked up her radio and turned it on. Fitz yelped and yanked off his headset.

"Are you trying to deafen me? Your sending volume is way too high. Here, let me adjust it." he fiddled with the radio and handed it to Liz.

"Here. Let's try that again."

They both put on their headsets and tested the radios. Fitz began to walk back along the path. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"How about a bit farther away?"

"Still fine."

"Right. Nothing to do now but wait."

"You want me to wait here?"

Fitz nearly lost his temper, but realized that Liz was teasing. "Only if you want to. I figure we have a little time to swim and relax. Catch up to me. I'll wait here." He was about to switch off his radio when he heard Liz singing.

The temperature's risin'
The winds are gonna blow
Hey Fitz can you hear me?
The beach is the place to go.

Then he saw her. She was half jogging, half dancing along the path, while singing her own version of some song. He wasn't sure what the song was until she got to the refrain.

It's raining men, hallelujah!
There will be cops all around.*

When she reached Fitz, he was laughing and applauding. Liz made her most demure curtsy.

* modified from "It's Raining Men," Jabara and Schaffer

Chapter 32

Posted on Friday, 12 October 2001

They returned to the hammock and put away the radios. Fitz picked up his snorkeling equipment. "So how about a little snorkeling? One of the divers showed me the best places to see reef fish."

"Aha. So that's why you were already wet when I got here." She blushed, remembering her reaction to that first sight of him on the beach.

"So, shall we get you some snorkeling gear, then? Or do you not want to get your hair wet?"

"Are you afraid George won't follow me if I look like a drowned rat?"

"You couldn't possibly. I just meant that, well, some women fuss about ruining their hair by going swimming."

Hands on hips, Liz stood in front of Fitz and gave him a mock glare. "I am not one of those helpless, high-maintenance, hothouse types you're probably used to."

He shook his head and watched Liz check out a mask. She held the mask to her face and breathed in through her nose. The mask stuck to her face. Then she breathed out and caught the mask as it fell.

"OK, it's a good fit." She grabbed her fins and life vest. "Let's go."

When they got to the edge of the water, Liz walked in up to her ankles.

She turned and batted her eyelashes at Fitz. "Ooh, Fitz, the water is so wet! Oh, I'll have to lean on you while I put my fins on. Oh, oh, help me adjust the buckle on the life vest."

"Enough! I give up. Send helpless-hothouse-Liz away and bring back I-can-handle-it-Liz."

"Are you sure? I thought men liked helpless women."

"Well, it's nice to be needed, but I don't care for the clinging vine act. But if you're determined to be helpless-" Fitz swept Liz up into his arms as if she were a feather and started to walk farther out into the water.

"You wouldn't!" she squealed.

"Wouldn't I?" Oh, God, deja vu! Am I daydreaming again?

He sighed and set her down. "It's tempting, but you'd get hurt if I dropped you in this shallow water. Anyhow, I have to get my fins before the waves wash them away."

Liz was surprised to discover that she was disappointed when he set her down. If he'd carried me out into the water, the splash would have been worth the extra time in his arms.

They swam out to the reef Mort had shown Fitz earlier. Schools of yellowtail snappers swarmed around them. Sergeant major fish darted around the reef. Flounder were camouflaged on the sandy bottom. Liz grabbed Fitz's arm and pointed at a small barracuda.

They snorkeled for a few minutes more and then headed back to shore. Liz took off her gear, and plopped into a vacant beach chair. She closed her eyes and wriggled her toes in the sand. When she looked up, Fitz was gone.

He returned a minute later, carrying her beach bag. "Here you go. I'm going back to the hammock."

"So we're just in radio contact from now on?"

"Yes. George will probably be here soon." He knelt by her chair.

"Look, Liz, we can still change things. I can start an argument with George and get him far enough down the path to be out of the way. If you're having second thoughts?" He put his hand over hers.

She shook her head. "The swim did a lot to calm me. I can do this. Hothouse-helpless-Liz was a momentary aberration, I promise."

He squeezed her hand and started to get up. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

"For luck," he said and walked away.

Chapter 33

Posted on Thursday, 18 October 2001

Liz sat motionless for a few minutes. She held her fingertips to her lips. Well, there goes my calm state of mind. Breathe, Lizzie girl, breathe. She picked up the headset of the radio and examined the controls. There was a switch marked "off," "rec only," "send & rec," and "send only." She set it to "receive only" and put on the headset.

Fitz flopped into the oversized hammock hanging from two palm trees. He looked around and saw that all the hammocks had been claimed. Some of them were occupied by couples. Fitz smiled, imagining Liz sharing his hammock. As his thoughts drifted back over the last few days, he wondered how he had ever thought her merely "tolerable."

His eyes fell on the headset wire protruding from his bag. He pulled out the radio and scowled at it. Get a grip, man! This is a job. Maybe when it's over, but this afternoon is too important to screw up. Concentrate! He put on the headset and turned on the radio.

Liz was almost asleep in her beach chair when the headset crackled to life. "Heads up gentlemen. Um, make that gentlemen and lady. This is Sanderson, on the Pride. Our subject just boarded the tender. I'll get on after we get this batch of passengers on board. Could we all check in, please?"

Fitz: "Fitz, in the shade. I can see the dock from here."

Liz: "Liz. I'm on the beach and I'll wander toward the dock now. Once I see George, I'll set my radio to 'send only' and leave the headset around my neck."

Lt. Smith of the local police: "Smith, at the lighthouse. My men are all in place."

Sanderson: "OK. Looks like we're all on the air. Liz, we have to take our cues from you, since you'll be sending but not receiving our comments. Good luck!"

Liz: "Thanks, I'll take all the luck I can get."

For luck. Liz sighed and touched her lips lightly. She could see the tender approaching the dock. She wrapped her beach sarong around her waist and sauntered toward the dock, singing to herself (and the team) as she walked.

All by myself
I'm waiting here
Right by the dock
I see George*

Liz could hear laughter from her radio audience. She said softly, "Go ahead and talk about me all you want, boys, I'm switching to 'send only.' And here I go!"

Fitz watched her stroll along the beach and pretend to listen to her radio. She was humming something he couldn't recognize. Then he heard another voice on the radio.

Sanderson: "Gutsy lady."

Fitz: "I don't know if it's guts or bravado, but she's ready to do this. Can you see her from where you are?"

Sanderson: "No."

Fitz: "She is strolling along like she's in her own little world. But she's watching for George. This is going to be a perfect 'accidental' meeting. Aha! We have contact!"

"Liz!"

She hummed a bit louder.

"Hey! LIZ!"

She looked around for the source of the voice as if she didn't know where George was. Slipping the headset down around her neck, she squealed, "George! Hi! Isn't this beach just perfect?"

He looked at her approvingly. "The beach looks OK. You, on the other hand, look absolutely perfect. Dorothy Lamour never looked that good in a sarong."

"Oh, George, you're so sweet today."

It was a good thing that Liz had changed the setting on her radio. The groans and retching sounds made by Smith and Sanderson would have been audible to anyone within three feet of Liz's headset. Darcy was too dignified to make sounds like that, but he was thinking them.

George smiled. That was easy. I'm forgiven already.

"But don't think you're completely off the hook for last night. I'm still not too happy about that Mary what's-her-name." She pouted.

"Aww, you look so cute when you do that." He kissed her nose. Just then a waiter passed by with a tray of frozen drinks. George hailed the waiter, "What are those?"

"Daiquiris, sir. Banana or strawberry?"

"Banana for me. Liz?"

"Strawberry, please."

George signed for the drinks. "So, what now, Liz?"

"Let's get some lunch to go with our drinks."

The last of the passengers had left the tender, and Officer Sanderson stepped onto the dock. He couldn't see Liz or George in the crowd, so he walked to the shaded area and found Fitz stretched out in his hammock. Fitz had removed his headset, but had it lying nearby so he could hear anything the team said. Sanderson removed his headset, too, and turned off his radio.

"So, now we sit around and wait."

"Afraid so," replied Fitz. "I confess, I hate this part. She plans to say she wants to walk off her lunch with a stroll to the lighthouse. I wish she'd hurry up."

*Modified from "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen

Chapter 34

Posted on Thursday, 18 October 2001

George was on his second burger and third drink. Liz was eating the last tiny bites of her salads while finishing her first drink.

"I'm stuffed," George declared.

"You must work out to be able to eat like that and be in such good shape." She smiled as she remembered how Fitz had looked that morning. Mmm, excellent shape. George, of course, thought she was smiling at him.

Liz stretched. "I think I could do with a walk. I've been a slug all morning, just lying in the sun. Someone said there's a lighthouse on the island. Let's see if we can find the path to it."

"We could just stay here," said George as he looked around for a bar waiter.

"There won't be so many people at the lighthouse," she murmured.

"Well, why not."

They got up from the picnic table, and Liz pointed to a trail that led from the shaded area. She could see Fitz in his hammock, but George hadn't noticed him. She had a moment of panic when she saw that Fitz was asleep. Dammit, Fitz, it's time. What are you doing falling asleep like that? How can you be so calm?!?

"Huh? What, George?" George had been speaking, but she hadn't been paying attention.

"Men's room," he repeated. "Back in a minute."

"Oh, OK."

As soon as George had disappeared into the men's room, Liz reset her radio switch and hissed into the microphone.

Fitz had been listening to Liz and George's conversation with little interest until she brought up the path to the lighthouse.

"There won't be many people at the lighthouse," he heard her say seductively. He shut his eyes and breathed slowly and deeply. She'll be fine. Don't panic. She'll be fine. His meditation was interrupted by Liz's voice in his headset.

Liz: "Psst! Fitz! Are you awake? Answer me quick! George has just gone to the gent's and then we're off on our walk."

Fitz: "I'm awake, I'm awake. I'll move as soon as you're out of sight. He's coming, reset your radio."

George looked at Liz. She had her Walkman headset on again, and was humming along to her music. She looked so cute, and she finally seemed willing. He hoped the lighthouse wasn't too far away.

"Let's go!"

Liz jumped. She quickly turned the switch on the radio and slid the headset down around her neck. "You startled me!"

"Sorry. Which way is this lighthouse of yours?" And they set off along the path to the lighthouse.

Fitz: "She's moving. Everyone get that?"

Smith: "Yep, we're ready. I have a few guys walking down the path, so we're covered. Your boat is waiting by the rocks."

Fitz got out of his hammock and picked up his bag. He found Liz's beach chair and picked up her beach bag, in case she would want it at the other side of the island. He followed the path he and Liz had taken earlier. He scrambled over the rocks and found a policeman with a Zodiac, ready to take him to the rendezvous.

The policeman took the bags and Fitz climbed into the boat. They edged away from the rocks and Fitz leaned back.

Fitz: "I'm in the boat. Can you hear me? I'm not picking up anything from Liz."

Sanderson: "I hear you. But I'm not getting Liz, either."

Smith: "I read you both, but nothing from Liz."

Fitz raked his fingers through his hair. "How much farther?" he asked the policeman.

"Just a few minutes, sir. See?" He pointed to the lighthouse, which was just coming into view.

The policeman guided the Zodiac toward a beach. Fitz jumped out, carrying the bags. A tall man stepped out of the stand of palm trees and walked toward Fitz.

"Hello. I'm Lt. Smith. Good to meet you."

"Fitz Darcy. Pleased to meet you. Still nothing from Liz?"

"No. I can't figure out what happened. It's possible that she accidentally turned it off?"

Fitz groaned, "I hope not."

"Let's sit down and wait." He gestured toward a small clearing behind the vegetation. "Nothing we can do now until they get here."

The sign read 'Lighthouse, 1/2 mi.'

"See, George? It isn't far now."

He put his arms around her. "We could stop here. There's nobody around."

Liz slipped out of his arms. "But I want to see the lighthouse." The radio fell from her waist and she quickly scooped it up and hooked it back on her skirt.

"Do you want me to carry that for you?" George patted the pocked of his shorts.

"No, it's OK." She tucked the headset into her waist and glanced down at the radio. Oh no! How long has it been turned off? And how am I going to turn it on again?

She started walking again, almost skipping. "Isn't it pretty here? Do you know what those flowers are?"

George shrugged. He was getting winded, and Liz kept moving faster in her excitement at seeing the lighthouse. Damn lighthouse. Who gives a-

A man in shorts and a flowered shirt approached them on the path. "How ya doin'?"

"Hi! Just fine," said Liz brightly. "Have you been to the lighthouse?"

"Yeah," the man answered. "It's pretty cool." He waved and continued down the path.

Liz started walking again and called to George, "Look! There it is!"

George looked up at the lighthouse, and Liz quickly moved the switch on her radio.

She broke into a trot. "Hurrah! We're almost there. Come on!"

Fitz was pacing up and down in the small clearing. Smith shook his head. "Son, you need to sit down a bit. You're like a bear in a cage."

Fitz sat on a large rock. "I feel like a bear in a cage. I'd feel a lot better if I could hear her."

Smith was about to answer when the light on his walkie-talkie blinked. He pressed a button, "Smith."

"Everything is OK sir. I just passed them about a half mile from the lighthouse.

"Good." Smith smiled at Fitz, "Well, at least we know she's all right."

And then they heard Liz's voice on the radio, "Hurrah! We're almost there. Come on!"

Fitz let out his breath slowly. He stood up and stretched, then sat down again. He hadn't realized how tense his muscles were.

Smith pushed another button on the walkie-talkie. "They're almost here. Be ready. Paul, move into place by the lighthouse. The rest of you, stand ready. Don't move in until you see that Paul has him. We don't want to spook him."

Liz and George walked into the clearing around the lighthouse. She tipped her head back to look up at the lighthouse. A man in shorts and a T-shirt that said "It's better in the Bahamas" appeared from the other side. She looked at him and smiled, "Hi! Is the lighthouse open?"

"No."

"Oh, too bad." Still gazing up at the lighthouse, Liz started to sidle away from George.

The man looked at George and said, "George Wickham, you're under arrest."

George moved like lightning. He grabbed Liz, pulled the radio headset from the waist of her sarong, and wrapped the wire around her neck. "Get back!" he shouted, tightening the wire. He had his other arm around Liz's waist and began to drag Liz toward the water. As she stumbled along, she stepped on her sarong, and it fell to the sand, tangling in her feet.

"Ow!"

George yanked her to her feet. "Shut up and quit squirming!"

Fitz, Smith, and two other policemen stepped out of the vegetation and faced George.

Fitz looked George in the eye and quietly said, "Let her go, George."

Chapter 35

Posted on Monday, 22 October 2001

"Let her go, George."

"Don't come any closer," snarled George, as he tugged on the wire around Liz's neck.

Fitz and George glared at each other.

"Let her go," repeated Fitz calmly. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I don't think so. She's involved in this up to her cute little sarong. No, Lizzie and me, we're going to go for a ride in your nice little boat over there."

Liz stood limply in George's grasp. She had no other option. The wire dug into her neck. George was so much bigger than she was. If she'd had on her high heels, she might have tried stomping his instep, but her lightweight sneakers were too soft to have any impact on his heavy running shoes. Fitz, she prayed silently. DO something.

"Let her go, George." Fitz's eyes never left George's face.

"Tell ya what, Fitzie. You want your bait back? Once I get away from here, I'll toss her overboard like fish bait. You can put on your little SEAL suit and swim out to rescue her. Oops, I forgot, you flunked out, didn't you?"

"This isn't going to work, George," said Fitz evenly. "Let her go. You won't get anywhere in that little boat. You don't know these islands. The boat has no charts in it."

Liz stared at Fitz, willing herself to absorb his calmness. Don't struggle. It'll be all right. She swallowed. God, that wire hurt!

George turned himself and Liz so that he could see the Zodiac better. Liz was afraid of what would happen if George got her into the boat.

Fitz had moved so that he was still facing George. Their eyes remained locked on each other. Fitz looked calm. George was sweating and breathing more rapidly. He was beginning to panic, and Liz realized that this might make him even more reckless.

"Let her go, George."

"F*** you, Fitz Darcy!"

Liz thought she saw a shadow move across the sand. She closed her eyes. There was a click and a voice behind her said, "Let her go. NOW!"

George felt the barrel of a gun at his neck. The click of the hammer being drawn back was unmistakable. He threw Liz to the ground.

"You b***h!" He screamed. "You set me up!"

He tried to kick her, but by now three policemen restrained him.

Fitz ran to Liz and dropped to the sand beside her. He put his arms around her as she began to cry. Despite the warm sun, she was shivering. He reached for her sarong and wrapped it around her shoulders.

George sneered at the couple. "Some big, brave hero you have there, Liz. All he could do was stand there and whine 'let her go' at me. So much for all that commando training, huh, Fitzie? What a loser."

Liz buried her head in Fitz's shoulder. He stroked her hair and rocked her gently. "You're all right now, Liz. You were very brave."

The police had handcuffed George and sat him down in the sand, some distance away from Fitz and Liz. Fitz looked up to see Smith and Sanderson standing over them.

"Liz?" he said gently. "Can you stand up?"

With a sniffle and a nod, she stood up.

Fitz took Liz by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Liz, I have to go with the police. I'll stay in Nassau tonight and see you tomorrow. Sanderson will take you back to the beach." He gently brushed back strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "Anne will be waiting for you, so you don't have to be alone. OK?"

She nodded.

"Good girl." He smiled tightly. "See you tomorrow."

Sanderson looked at Liz. "Can you walk back, or would you prefer a ride in the Zodiac?"

She looked at the boat George had tried to drag her to. "I'll walk."

Someone found Liz a bottle of water, and she sipped it as Sanderson led her down the path back to the main beach. Fitz watched until they were out of sight around a curve. He sighed and looked over at George. He could feel the waves of hatred emanating from George, all focused on him.

"You #$%^&!" George yelled. "Why can't you stay the @#$%^ out of my life?"

Fitz looked down at George coolly. "Lots of reasons. My sister, for one. Liz, for another. And then there's Lydia Phillips. Remember her, George? Silly kid? Under age, lots of nice jewelry--like the bracelet you gave Liz."

George swore again. The seriousness of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn't been worried about Fitz's presence, since there couldn't be any charges against him from his incident with Georgiana. After all, Fitz's unexpected arrival that day had kept him from doing anything serious with her. But how did Fitz know about that brat, Lydia? God, she was an idiot. Her jewelry had served him well, though. Some pieces he fenced for money to live on. Some he used as "date bait," as he liked to call it. That's what Liz's bracelet had been meant for.

George swore again when he realized that, of all the things he had done, giving Liz that bracelet was the worst. He knew enough about antique jewelry to know it could be identified and traced. He had assumed that Liz was too dim to recognize its value as an antique. Now he wondered. There was more to her than he had thought. Hmm, is she more to Fitz than it seemed, too?

In one last attempt to get back at Fitz, George spoke again. "So, Fitz. Has Liz worked for you long? Or did you hire her just for this occasion?" Fitz ignored him, so George tried again. "I guess she's enough for you. But I found her disappointing. Not nearly woman enough for me. I should have let you keep her."

It took every ounce of self-control Fitz had to keep from smashing George's face in. His stomach was in knots, but he kept his face impassive and his voice even.

"Nice try, George. But it isn't working. I know that a pervert who specializes in teenagers wouldn't know a real woman when he met one." With that, Fitz turned and walked down the beach.

The police maneuvered George into the Zodiac and took him to their boat, which had been waiting just out of sight of the lighthouse beach. Smith and Fitz waited for the Zodiac to return for them.

Smith smiled at Fitz. "Man, she was really something. Cool under fire."

Fitz sighed, "Yes, but after the emergency, she'll need to let out the tension." He described the fits of giggles that followed the episode in the casino. "But I fear that this time the release will be tears, not laughter."

Chapter 36

Posted on Thursday, 1 November 2001

Liz numbly trudged along the path. Her neck hurt. She was thirsty, but it hurt to swallow her water. And she couldn't decide if she was warm or cold.

Sanderson looked at her and pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Is Ms Eliot on the island?"

The voice at the other end answered, "Yes."

"Bring one of the beach wheelchairs and ask Ms Eliot to come with you."

"Yes, sir."

Soon they were met by another of the Pride's security officers, jogging along the trail and pushing a wheelchair with fat plastic wheels.

"What's that for?" whispered Liz.

"For you," answered Anne, catching up to the group. "You're on the verge of shock. Come on, sit down and I'll wrap a few of these beach towels around you."

They took Liz to the divers' house, where Anne fixed a cup of tea for Liz and put some ointment on her neck.

"It won't scar. But I think it may look bruised by tomorrow. Does it hurt much?"

"Better now," whispered Liz."

"So that we don't stir up any curiosity among the passengers, we're going to take you back to the ship on the last crew tender. Why don't you try to take a nap. I'll be back to wake you when we're ready to go."

Anne drew the curtains closed and left Liz in the darkened room. Despite the warmth of the day, Liz felt cold. She pulled the covers up and reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table as the tears began to pour down her face.

Fitz pulled on the jeans he had thrown into his bag that morning. He looked into the mirror over the tiny sink in the head. What a day! I look knackered. Not surprising. I FEEL knackered. He pulled his polo shirt over his head and raked his fingers through his curls. He walked up on deck to find Lt. Smith leaning on the rail.

"We're almost to Nassau. You look like a man in want of a cup of coffee. Did you eat anything today?"

"Actually, now that I think of it, I never did eat lunch."

"Come on." Lt. Smith led Fitz inside and poured a mug of coffee for each of them and picked up a tin of cookies. They joined the arresting officer, who Fitz knew only as Paul.

"How's the prisoner?" asked Lt. Smith.

"Not a happy sailor," answered Paul. "Well done, Mr. Darcy. You really kept your cool out there. Have you handled hostage situations before?"

"A few."

"You did a great job of keeping him focused on you so that Tom could get around behind him. Excuse my frankness, but well, we didn't know you, and I was afraid you might rush him."

"No, I could see your man moving. Plus, I didn't want to give George a reason to hurt her any worse than he already had."

"Well, just let me say that I admire your self control."

Lt. Smith held up his coffee mug for a toast and said, "To discipline and teamwork!" The men clinked their mugs together. Paul put his mug down and left the room.

"You know, Fitz, I wasn't worried that you would rush Wickham. But I was afraid that you would beat him to a pulp after he let go of Liz."

"Don't think I wasn't tempted. But I didn't want to do anything that could jeopardize the case." He paused. "I have to tell you, though, keeping my hands off George was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do." No, the SECOND hardest. The hardest thing was handing over Liz to Sanderson and leaving her on the island.

When the police boat arrived in Nassau, Fitz saw Charles waiting on the dock. As soon as the boat was tied at the dock, Fitz got off and filled Charles in on the events of the day.

Two police officers led a handcuffed George Wickham off the boat. As soon as he saw Fitz, George let out a stream of expletives. He continued cursing all the way down the dock and into the waiting police car.

Charles shook his head, "Nice guy. He really likes you!"

"Not funny, Charles."

"You look beat. I'll go see that Wickham is booked. Why don't you go to the hotel. Here's your room key, you're all checked in. Take a shower and by then maybe you'll feel up to joining the Mr. Gardiner, Jane, and me for dinner."

"I didn't bring any other clothes, Charles. I'm a mess. Anyhow, I am too tired to be good dinner company. I'll order room service, and we can catch up in my room after you've had dinner. Tell Mr. Gardiner I'll see him in the morning."

Fitz put his coffee cup in its saucer and walked to the window of his hotel room. He could see lights in the distance. Several cruise ships were at the dock. Tomorrow the Pride would join them. His mind wandered again over the last few days. Now George was in jail, and he could focus his attention on Liz. He sighed. Liz. We didn't get off to the best start, but things seemed to get better. Sometimes, anyhow. At times she's so cool. Other times, she's relaxed and playful. What happens next?

His meditations were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

"Fitz Darcy."

"Fitz, it's Anne."

"Is she all right?"

"Yes, I just left her to take a shower now and go to bed. It was a rough day. Poor girl cried her eyes out when it was all over. Nervous tension, like the giggles the other night, I suppose."

"Yes, I was afraid it wouldn't be giggles this time. How does her neck look?"

"It will probably be a bit bruised, but she'll be OK. "

"Thanks for taking care of her, Anne. And please thank Fred for all the help we got from the crew, especially Sanderson and his security guys."

"Will do."

"I've got to go. Someone's at the door. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Fitz."

Fitz opened the door and Charles walked in, looking very chipper.

"Feeling better? You should have come to dinner. Everything was delicious. And Jane looked so lovely. She really is an angel, Fitz." He saw Fitz raise one eyebrow. "I know, I know, she's a client's daughter. But the case is almost over now."

Fitz sighed, "Charles-"

"She might be the one, Fitz. You know, THE ONE!"

"Geez, Charles, there's something you've never said before.

"OK, so I've been wrong a few times."

"A few times?"

"Ha, ha. At least I've let myself fall in love a couple of times. I don't think I've ever heard you describe a girl as THE ONE. Not even a 'maybe.' And it isn't as though none has tried."

"Maybe that's the problem. The ones who've thrown themselves at me weren't worth the trouble of catching. No offense to your sister, but..." He shrugged.

"No offense taken. I've tried to tell Caroline that you aren't interested. You should date more, Fitz. She thinks you're sitting at home pining for her. Maybe if she could see that you had someone in your life, she'd give up."

The phone rang, sparing Fitz the trouble of coming up with a response.

"Fitz Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy, this is the switchboard operator. Is Mr. Bingley with you, by any chance?"

"He's right here." Fitz held out the phone. "For you."

"Bingley. Yes. Are you sure? When? I thought that wasn't until next week. You know, I'm not sure you can extradite me from the Bahamas." At this comment, Fitz looked alarmed, and Charles grinned at him before continuing the conversation, "I'll call the airline right away. See you tomorrow."

"What was that about?"

"The Mansfield case. I'm supposed to testify, remember?"

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be that soon."

"Neither did I, but the District Attorney has changed the order of witnesses. So I have to grab the first flight out tomorrow morning. When you see Jane, please tell her that I-Oh, never mind, I'll write her a note before I go." He walked to the door.

"Safe trip home, Charles."

"See you back at the office, Fitz. Goodnight."

The moon shone brightly on the sea when Anne Eliot entered the Bridge. The captain of the Pride turned to look at her.

"How is she?"

Anne walked to the large windows and stood beside Captain Wentworth. "She's finally sleeping. She's pretty shaken up. He tried to take her hostage, Fred. It must have been terrible for her. Sanderson says she was very brave. Poor Fitz, having to watch him hold onto her like that."

She shivered as she thought about it. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I think I have some idea of how Fitz must have felt."

Chapter 37

Posted on Thursday, 1 November 2001

Fitz rolled over and tried to bury his face in the pillow, but the early morning sunlight wouldn't let him go back to sleep. He knew he should have closed the drapes last night, but the moonlight had been so soothing. He walked to the window and looked toward the docks. He could see a ship in the channel, leaving Nassau. It was one of those ultra-modern ones. Good Lord, are there purple neon lights inside there? Uncle Lewis would rather die than see one of his ships decked out like that.

Fitz looked farther down the channel and saw a familiar ship. He smiled at the Pride's classic lines. She wasn't moving. He guessed that she was waiting her turn for a tug to maneuver her into the dock. He looked at his watch. 6:30 AM. The Pride wouldn't dock until 9.

Fitz turned on the coffee maker and got dressed. With a mug of coffee in his hand, he opened the door and walked out onto the little balcony. He sat in one chair and propped his feet up on another. He looked down on the little park and beach in front of the hotel. The upscale hotel chain had done a wonderful job rebuilding this old hotel, right in the city of Nassau. It would be a short walk from here to the courthouse. Thinking of the courthouse reminded him of his breakfast appointment with Mr. Gardiner and Jane. Reluctantly, he rose and went back inside.

Since he was ready early, Fitz decided to explore the hotel a bit. He bought a newspaper in the hotel's gift shop and was about to return to the lobby when he saw a rack of post cards. He picked out a few cards for his sister and cousin. On his way back to the sales clerk, he stopped to look at something else.

"Mr. Darcy?" He turned to see a slender blonde smiling at him.

"Ms Gardiner. Good morning."

"Please, call me Jane."

"And I'm Fitz."

"Are you picking out a present for someone?"

"No, well, sort of. It's a long story. I'll tell you later." He made his selection and paid for his purchases. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Yes, Dad will be down in a minute. Where's Charles?"

"He's flying back to New York this morning. Didn't he explain it to you?"

"No."

Fitz noticed that she looked disappointed, but he didn't feel comfortable explaining the details of a case to someone not involved with it, so he didn't elaborate. Anyway, he reasoned, Charles had left her a note.

Liz awoke when the Pride stopped moving. She looked out the window, and could see Nassau in the distance. She sighed when she thought of the day ahead. Can I really face George in the courtroom?

She took a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes weren't as puffy as she had expected. A good night's sleep had fixed them. But her neck was a sight to behold. She looked as if she were wearing a necklace of tiny bruises stung on the mark left by the wire. Liz did a quick mental inventory of her wardrobe. Shaking her head, she called room service.

Fitz finished his story of the previous day's adventure. He had tried to minimize the part about George holding Liz hostage, but even so, Jane's eyes were wide with shock.

"So you can see why I don't think she should go to the arraignment this morning. Your father and I can go. I'd much prefer that you stay with her this morning."

Jane nodded. She had been quiet ever since Fitz told her that Charles was gone.

Mr. Gardiner broke the silence. "I'm sorry that Liz was put into such a difficult position. I'm just glad that he didn't get away and hurt her any worse than that. You both have done a fine job. I'm grateful to you."

Fitz stood up. "I have to get back to the ship and change before I go to court." He shook Mr. Gardiner's hand. "I'll see you in court, sir."

"Room Service!"

Liz wrapped the bathrobe tightly around her and pulled up the collar. She opened the door and the steward entered with her breakfast.

After the steward left, Liz turned toward the table where the tray had been placed. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Staring at the way she had arranged the collar of the robe, she thought back to the semester when she had volunteered at a women's shelter. Scarves, long sleeves, lots of makeup. She remembered the various ways women had covered up the signs of abuse. Deliberately, she turned away from the mirror and toward her breakfast.

Fitz checked out of the hotel and walked toward the dock. Nassau was still quiet this early. In a few hours, the streets would be filled with tourists, shopping for bargains in the straw market and T-shirt shops. A few horse-drawn carriages were already waiting under the shade awning, and some women were setting up their braiding materials in the pavilion near the dock.

The Pride had just put the gangways in place, and customs and immigration officials walked on board to handle the formalities. As soon as the ship was cleared, Fitz boarded and ran to his cabin to change clothes.

After he finished dressing, he glanced at his watch. Damn! No time! He saw his steward in the hallway and gave him the package and instructions. Then he left the ship and walked to the courthouse.

Chapter 38

Posted on Thursday, 8 November 2001

Liz had just finished breakfast when she heard a knock at the door.

"Yes?"

"Package for you, Ms Bennet."

She pulled the robe tightly around her neck again and opened the door.

A steward smiled and handed her a small gift bag. "Mr. Darcy sends his compliments, Miss."

Liz stepped back into the room and peeked into the bag to see a profusion of colors-navy blue, red and white, yellow. What is all this? She reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of silk. There were three scarves, one navy, one red and white, and one a tropical print in shades of yellow and orange. And all three were long and narrow, just the thing to tie around a bruised neck.

Dazed, she sat down on the bed. How had he known she'd need these?

Fitz met Mr. Gardiner at the courthouse.

"Have you heard anything, sir?"

"They should bring him up in about a half hour. I want to thank you again for all you've done. I shudder to think what he might have done to Lydia if he'd stayed with her. She could be very annoying to a man with such a filthy temper."

"Frankly, as well as I know him, I was still shocked that he'd hide behind a woman in such a way."

"Disgusting," agreed Mr. Gardiner.

Fitz changed the subject slightly, "I made an appointment to discuss the case with the prosecutor this morning. I'd prefer to get the initial round of questions out of the way in person."

"I quite agree. I suppose you will have to fly down to testify at his trial?"

Fitz nodded and smiled grimly. "What a sordid reason to come to such a lovely place."

"What about yesterday. What will Liz do about that?"

"I'm hoping that she'll decide not to press charges. We've got George on a much larger charge than assault. Please don't think that I am not angry over what he did to her. But she's a lawyer. She'll see that adding her assault to what he did to Lydia will just muddy things for the jury. Better to keep them focused on one victim."

Further conversation was stopped by the arrival of the court clerk. "Excuse me, gentlemen. We're about to start."

Liz studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked very nautical with her navy shorts, white T-shirt and the scarf tied jauntily around her neck. Sunglasses would hide the remaining puffiness around her eyes. Not bad, she thought.

There was another knock on the door. Muttering something about Grand Central Station, Liz opened the door.

"Jane!"

"Liz! Fitz Darcy told me what happened. Are you all right? Oh, you're wearing one of the scarves he bought."

"How do you know about the scarves?"

"I was there when he bought them, this morning in the hotel gift shop."

"Ah, so you're the reason they match my wardrobe."

"No, he picked them out by himself. I didn't even know they were for you. Um," Jane hesitated.

"What?"

"I have something to tell you and something to ask you."

"Tell first."

"Liz, Fitz says you shouldn't go to the arraignment this morning."

"Why? Doesn't he think I can handle it?"

"No, it isn't that. He does want to spare you any discomfort, but more than that, he doesn't want George to see that he hurt you."

Liz gestured toward the scarf, "But-"

"Even a jerk like George can figure out what you're hiding, Liz. Don't give him the satisfaction. Besides," added Jane with a mischievous smile, "we could put the time to good use, shopping."

"Sold! And the question?"

"How would you like a roommate? Dad is going to try to arrange for me to finish the cruise with you. Would that be all right?"

"All right? It would be wonderful! Oh, Jane, I hope it can be arranged!"

"Dad is at the arraignment now, and then he'll call the captain and see what sort of strings he can pull."

"That went well-sort of," remarked Fitz as he and Mr. Gardner walked to the office of one of the prosecuting attorneys.

"I would love for Wickham to come to trial in front of that judge," answered Mr. Gardiner. "He had no taste for Wickham's foul language. I really do believe that one more word and Wickham would have been arraigned in absentia!"

"As you can see, George has very little self-control."

They arrived at the office and were greeted by the attorney who had handled the arraignment.

"Please have a seat, gentlemen." The attorney gestured to the chairs facing his desk as he sat down behind it. "Well, that was a lively arraignment! Generally, the accused does his best to look contrite. It's never a good idea to make a judge angry. Word gets around that a defendant is a troublemaker, you know."

"Troublemaker is an understatement. I've known George all my life and I can tell you that he will show no remorse. Nothing is ever his fault. But the reason we're here is not just to discuss George's failings as a human being. We have some evidence to give you."

Fitz pulled out a velvet jewelry box, opened it, and placed it on the attorney's desk.

"Wow! Nice bracelet. What does it have to do with the case?"

Mr. Gardiner picked up the story. "It is one of the pieces that Wickham stole from my niece. I'm sure you have the list in your files, but I believe that Mr. Darcy has the information from the insurance company." He gestured to Darcy, who handed the file to the attorney.

"And how did you recover the bracelet, Mr. Gardiner?"

"I didn't. Wickham gave the bracelet to Mr. Darcy's associate, Ms Bennet. She recognized that it is quite old, so she took it to Mr. Darcy for identification."

"I see. This certainly will help our case. Mr. Darcy, I'm going to ask you to give a statement to one of my clerks. Is this, um," he glanced down at the pad on which he had taken notes, "Um, Ms Bennet. Is she available to give us a statement?"

"I think she'd rather not. He roughed her up yesterday, and she's a bit shaky. But you can interview her over the phone and I'm sure she will be willing to fly down to testify."

"Very well. Mr. Darcy, my clerk is just outside." He stood up and shook Fitz's hand. Then he turned to Mr. Gardiner, "Sir, if I could have just a few more minutes of your time to discuss your niece and her participation in the trial."

By the time Fitz's statement had been printed out and signed, Mr. Gardiner was ready to leave.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Darcy. I have to get back to the hotel and make some phone calls. Would you care to meet me for lunch later? I'll make reservations at the Atlantis."

Fitz paused. Liz would probably spend the day catching up with Jane. He decided to give them time to do whatever "girly" stuff they had in mind, so he took Mr. Gardiner up on his offer.

"What's this?" The desk clerk picked up an envelope on the floor.

"I don't know," replied the bellman. "Who is it addressed to?"

"Beats me, the writing is illegible. Looks like Jane something, but there's no room number."

"Give it to me. I'll take it to the office."

The desk clerk handed over the envelope and turned to face the man who was approaching the desk. "Can I help you, Sir?"

"Are there any messages or packages for Gardiner?"

"Let me check." She looked on the shelf behind her. "Yes, there is one FedEx." She smiled and handed it over. Mr. Gardiner thanked her and walked to the elevator.

Chapter 39

Posted on Thursday, 8 November 2001

Liz and Jane walked down the gangway into the sunlight.

"What a glorious day!" exclaimed Liz. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm feeling better already."

Jane put on her sunglasses and smiled. "Let's shop!"

They walked up the dock toward the shopping area. The hair braiding women called out to Liz, "Hey Lady. Have your hair braided. You have pretty hair, it will look good braided."

Liz laughed and shook her head. The two continued to stroll toward the Straw Market. They passed some street vendors, where Liz bought a bead bracelet. Liz glanced at a T-shirt shop, but Jane assured her there would be plenty more to see.

The Straw Market was a maze of stalls. Vendors sold straw bags and hats, T-shirts, beads, and all sorts of souvenirs. Beach sarongs were draped at the backs of stalls. Liz and Jane wandered through the market, surveying the merchandise. Suddenly, Liz stopped and pointed.

"Look at that bag! It looks just like the Kate Spade bag I saw in New York-except for the label, of course-and the price! My sister will love it." Liz bought the straw bag for her sister and a small straw evening bag for herself.

Working their way through the market, they found themselves in a courtyard. Vendors had their wares set up around the perimeter of the courtyard. Liz and Jane held up various batik-printed sundresses and sarongs. Finally, Liz bought another sarong and Jane bought a sundress.

When they reached the end of the market, they found themselves on Bay Street, where there were more upscale shops. Jane led Liz to a small shop that sold locally made jewelry and crafts.

"Oh! Look at the lovely Christmas ornaments!" Liz made a beeline for the artificial Christmas tree. She found an angel made of seashells and several animals carved from pieces of conch shell.

A sales clerk approached Liz, "Excuse me, Miss. Would you like me to find boxes for those? Oh, what a pretty scarf you have on. If you like scarves, we have some lovely hand-painted ones over here."

Liz wandered over to the scarves. Jane joined her.

Liz sighed, "They really are lovely, aren't they? But they're expensive."

Jane nodded and pulled out a marbled green scarf. "Have you worn the green dress yet, Liz? This would be perfect for it, and you may still need something. Splurge. I'll tell Dad you deserve a bonus for hazardous duty."

"Jane you are such a bad influence on me. Oh, why not?" She picked up the scarf.

Fitz walked from the courthouse to the shops on Bay Street. He saw an Internet café and decided to check his email while he waited for lunch. He bought an iced coffee and logged onto a computer.

Scanning down the list of emails in his work inbox, he saw that there was nothing pressing. He checked his personal email and found two that looked interesting. One was from

[e-mail]

Hi Fitz!

Are you enjoying the cruise? I am soooo envious. You know how I love the Pride! You better buy me something good! And not just a T-shirt. I'm talking major guilt gift here!

You're in the sunny Caribbean and I'm sitting here with a stupid paper to write for a stupid course. Tell me again why I majored in history?

Caroline called me to ask why you haven't returned her phone calls. Do I have your permission to tell her it's because she's a stupid cow?

What else? Oh, I remember! Aunt Catherine called and grilled me about your new girlfriend. So am I the last to know? Aunt Cath refused to believe I didn't know anything. She thinks I'm covering up for you. So who is this woman?

Hugs,
G

Fitz smiled, imagining the conversation between his aunt and his sister. The family grapevine at work again. Might as well see what the old dragon has to say. He clicked on the next email.

[e-mail].

Fitzwilliam,
Well, I am impressed. This Ms. Bennet of yours has manners! Mrs. Jenkinson informs me that she received a lovely thank-you note, posted the very day that the lady was at the house. That certainly is a first.

I don't think that dreadful girl you had with you last time ever said a word of thanks to anyone. Her brother sent flowers and a note from both of them, but I know it was actually only from him.

What have you to say for yourself? I await information, young man!
Yours & etc.,
Aunt Catherine

Fitz chuckled and shook his head. He sent a noncommittal reply to his aunt, and then started his message to his sister.

Hello Sweetie,

Yes, the cruise is nice, yes it's sunny, yes I bought you a present, you greedy thing. I'm thinking about going to the market to see if I can find you a really tacky T-shirt and giving your nice present to someone else.

As for the someone else...

Here Fitz paused and looked out the window of the café. Jane and Liz walked by, laughing. They were loaded down with shopping bags, but what Fitz noticed most was that Liz was wearing one of the scarves he had bought for her. He smiled and returned to his email.

As for the someone else, she is a very special woman. As Charles would say, she could be THE ONE. But I don't know how she feels about me. We're working together at the moment, and that makes it awkward. I hope to keep seeing her when we get back to New York. I think you would like her instantly. Mom would have liked her. As for Aunt C, well you never know, do you?

BTW, Speaking of Charles, he has found another Angel. This one's nice. At least, if she dumps him, she'll do it with more grace than her predecessors did. Charles does have an amazing talent for recovery.

That's about it. Oh, one more thing-No, you may NOT call Caroline a stupid cow.

Love you,
F

Jane held up her shopping bags. "Not a bad morning's work! Time for something cold!"

They found a small café and ordered drinks and snacks. Liz smiled at Jane.

"It is so good to see you, Jane. I can't tell you how perfect your wardrobe choices were. And you were right to make me buy the red dress. I felt like a movie star in it! And I'm glad I was very dressed up that night because I got to sit at the Captain's table. But you've heard a lot about my adventures. What have you been doing? How long have you been in Nassau?"

"Dad and Charles and I flew down a few days ago."

"Charles?" Liz raised an eyebrow.

"Charles Bingley. He's Fitz Darcy's associate. You knew that. Stop smirking! Charles is very nice."

"Uh, huh. I thought so when I met him the day we sailed. I didn't get much of a chance to check him out, but he made a good first impression."

"Do you believe strongly in first impressions?"

"Well, usually I do. I liked Charles straight off, and you say he is nice. So that's a vote in favor of first impressions."

"What about Fitz?"

"No, that was not a good first impression. He seems to improve upon further acquaintance, but I'm not sure how I feel about him. But tell me more about Charles. Where is he this morning, by the way?"

Jane sighed, "He had to go back to New York."

"Why?"

"Work, I guess. He was already gone this morning when I went down to breakfast. Fitz just said that Charles went back to New York. He didn't seem to want to say anything further, so I didn't press him about it."

Liz scowled. She was trying to remember something, but she wasn't sure what it was.

"What's wrong, Liz?"

Liz shook her head, "Nothing, I guess. You know how sometimes you think of something and then it's gone so quickly you don't know what it was?" Jane nodded. "It was one of those."

Chapter 40

Posted on Wednesday, 14 November 2001

Fitz met Mr. Gardiner at the appointed time and they took a taxi to Paradise Island. The driver dropped them off in front of a huge shell-pink building. They walked through an ornate lobby. To one side was a shopping area. Fitz didn't have to look to figure out what was to the other side. The electronic beeping and booping of gaming machines told him it was the casino.

The two men found the stairs leading to a restaurant on the lower level. Surrounded by fish tanks, it gave patrons the feeling of looking out into the sea. Fitz shook his head in amazement.

"Not my personal taste, but it certainly is impressive."

"I know what you mean. It is a bit overwhelming. And I do feel guilty ordering seafood when I eat here, if you know what I mean."

A voice behind them added, "Never eat in front of the next of kin?"

They turned to see Captain Wentworth.

"Fred!" cried Fitz, "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"It's the price for pulling a few strings."

Mr. Gardiner explained, "Captain Wentworth helped me arrange to get Jane on the cruise for the trip home, so I offered to take him to lunch. This is a 'thank-you,' not a bribe!"

Liz and Jane stood on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.

"So," began Jane. "Are you shopped out?"

"Yes, I think I've reached the limit of what I can carry, anyway."

"Then come back to the hotel with me. Dad should have left me a message about getting on the ship. And if I am sailing today, you can help me pack!"

They entered the elegant hotel, and crossed to the front desk. Jane spoke to the clerk, and was given an envelope. She didn't open it. Instead, she led Liz to the elevators.

"Anything from Charles?"

"No," replied Jane sadly. "Just this from Dad. And it doesn't look big enough to hold a ticket."

They got into the elevator, and the minute the doors closed, Jane ripped the envelope open.

"Yes! Yes!!! YES!!!" She squealed, holding out the sheet of paper for Liz to read. In large letters it said "PACK QUICKLY." In regular script, Mr. Gardiner explained that Jane was to take a taxi to the pier and identify herself to the security people on the gangway. Someone from the purser's staff would take care of her.

Once in her room, Jane started dumping clothing on the bed. Liz was in charge of the clothes to be packed for the cruise. Jane, meanwhile, was maniacally stuffing dirty clothes and things she wouldn't need into a suitcase for her father to take home for her.

The two women made short work of the task, and after they made one final search of the dresser drawers, they were ready to leave the hotel. Jane wrote her father a quick note and put the note and the suitcase she was leaving with him in his room on the other side of the suite.

"Wow! I can pack pretty fast, but that was a record time. Let's go!" laughed Jane.

Over lunch, Fitz and Mr. Gardiner brought Captain Wentworth up to date on Wickham and his arraignment.

"Do you think he'll make bail?" asked the Captain.

"Not likely." answered Fitz. "He can't raise enough cash on his credit cards, and I doubt that there's anyone back in New York who'll lend him the money. The judge set bail pretty high because George is such a flight risk."

Captain Wentworth looked at his watch. "This has been a pleasant lunch, but I have to get back to the ship. The police are coming at 3:30 to search Wickham's cabin. I'm going to have the steward pack his belongings at that time. You are both welcome to observe."

Mr. Gardiner nodded, "Perhaps another piece of the jewelry will show up."

After Captain Wentworth left, Fitz and Mr. Gardiner ordered coffee. Mr. Gardiner seemed to want to say something, but was unsure of how to start.

Fitz decided to help him out. "Is there anything else we need to take care of, sir?"

"Not about Wickham, but there is something I wanted to ask you about."

"Certainly. Fire away."

"How well do you know Mr. Bingley?"

"Charles? Oh, we go way back. We went to high school together and have been friends ever since."

"I see. Then I suppose he has worked for you for some time?"

"Yes. Charles majored in business. He got his MBA at Wharton, and I hired him when I started the business. Actually, he's a minor-share partner. We're a good team. He organizes the staff and I organize the cases we take on. May I ask why you're inquiring about him? I hope you weren't dissatisfied with his part in this case?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I quite like the young man. I dare say most people he meets like him. He's that sort of man. He and Jane appear to have taken an interest in each other, so I wanted to know more about him. Please don't say anything to either of them. Jane would be mortified to hear about her father's meddling."

"I am sure his intentions are honorable. Charles seems to like Jane very much. By the way, you're right about Charles. He's likable because he likes everyone. His trusting nature has allowed a few girlfriends to stomp on his heart. But he gets up, brushes himself off, and is willing to try again."

"Ever the optimist, then?"

"It's funny you should say that. Charles and I have a running debate about the relative merits of optimism and pessimism. I say that the advantage of always expecting the worst is that you may be pleasantly surprised from time to time, but you're never disappointed. Charles always says that an optimist isn't disappointed either-at least, not for long."

"Sounds like a good man for my Janie. And you'll be happy to know that she isn't the heart-stomping type."

"I'm glad to hear it. Women as pretty as Jane often are."

Ah, well, there's the thing. Jane is not aware of how pretty she is. She isn't one of those women who assumes a man will be interested."

So, do you think Jane and Charles are serious?"

"From watching them together, I'd say that they could be, but they haven't figured that out, yet. It's too bad Mr. Bingley had to leave when he did." Glancing at his watch, Mr. Gardiner added, "Speaking of leaving, I think we need to get going if we want to witness the search."

After helping Jane unpack, Liz suggested they visit the spa. It wasn't until she was in the deep, bubbling salt water that Liz realized just how tense she had been. She stood in front of water jets that massaged her shoulder blades.

"Mmm, I needed that. I didn't realize how much of a strain George put on my shoulders when he was holding me. Ohh, this feels good. I may just spend the rest of the cruise here."

"You can't do that. I thought you were going to look in on the search of Wickham's cabin. Do you feel up to it?"

"Certainly. The sight of George himself might be upsetting, but his stuff won't bother me. Come to think of it, I want to get my portrait from his room."

"Why does he have your portrait?"

"Oh, you know how they take your portrait on your way to the Captain's reception? When I went to look for my picture the next day, one of the photographers said that a man had already bought it. It must have been George. At first I flattered myself that he bought it because he liked me or thought me attractive. But I realize that he was probably saving it in case he needed some sort of gallant gesture to impress me."

They moved to the other end of the spa pool, and reclined on the bed of stainless steel pipes. They were silent for a while, enjoying the massaging bubbles. Then Jane picked up the conversation.

"Are you sure it was George who bought the picture?"

"Yes, the photographer said the man was tall and dark-haired. That sounds like George."

"It also sounds like Fitz, Liz. Maybe he bought the picture."

"No, he wouldn't even have gone to the gallery to look at the pictures. He didn't have a portrait or a picture with the Captain taken that night. I'm sure it was George. What would Fitz have wanted with my picture, anyway?"

Jane watched Liz close her eyes and lean back in the water. Oh, Liz, if you had only seen his face this morning when he talked about you.

Captain Wentworth, Lt. Smith, Mr. Gardiner, and Fitz stood just outside the door to George's cabin as the stewards packed George's belongings. Any piece of jewelry they found was handed to the Captain.

"Do you recognize any of this, Mr. Gardiner?"

"No, Captain, none of this came from Lydia. I must say, however, that several pieces look quite old. I wonder if they were stolen from someone else?"

"Probably," replied Fitz. "What's the procedure, Lieutenant?"

"I will inventory everything, photograph pieces that look valuable, then use the photos to try to track the owners."

"Sir," interrupted a steward. "Here is one more item. It looks like nice. Too bad the chain is missing." He held out a gold locket. Before Captain Wentworth could take it, Fitz grabbed it and stared at it.

"Fitz, are you all right?"

"I'm sorry. It looks just like one my sister had." He paused and turned the locket over. On the cover was an ornately inscribed letter G. He swallowed hard and added softly. "It is hers. Lieutenant, may I?"

"I'll consider that piece restored to its rightful owner."

"Thank you."

Not quite sure what to say, the other men looked into the room.

"Is there anything else?" asked the Captain.

"No sir, that's all of it." The steward snapped the latch of the suitcase closed. "We're finished."

"Very well. Take it all to the Luggage Master for storage. Lt. Smith, Mr. Gardiner, I'll see you to the gangway."

Fitz walked down the hall, scowling at the locket. He remembered the mark the chain had left on his sister's neck in her struggle with George. They had found the broken chain, but not the locket. They had always assumed the locket had been lost. It angered Fitz to know that George had been keeping it all this time. Dammit, George! Will you stop popping up in my life!

Refreshed from her soak in the spa, Liz was headed for George's cabin when she saw the Captain escorting Lt. Smith and Mr. Gardiner toward the gangway.

"Did I miss all the excitement?" she asked.

"Afraid so, not that there was much excitement, really," answered the Captain.

"Did my portrait turn up?"

"Your portrait? Why did Wickham have it?"

"Someone bought it, and I thought it was George. How odd. Oh, well, it doesn't matter."

Mr. Gardiner shook Liz's hand. "Thank you for your help with this case, Ms Bennet. I am sorry for what that snake did to you."

"All in a day's work, I suppose. I'll see you at the trial?" He nodded. "And thank you for arranging for Jane to come home with me. That makes up for a lot."

Chapter 41

Posted on Wednesday, 14 November 2001

Jane hung up the telephone just as Liz entered their cabin.

"Hi, Jane. What's wrong?"

"I tried calling the hotel one more time to see if there were any messages for me, but there weren't. I guess Charles felt that his job was done and so he went home. I had hoped he would come home on the ship, too."

"Maybe he'll call you when you get back to New York."

"Maybe," she sighed. "Oh, where's your portrait?"

"It wasn't there. So now I have no idea what happened to it. Maybe the guy who said someone bought it was wrong. It probably didn't come out right, or someone lost it. Anyhow, I do have a picture. I bought the one with the Captain." She rummaged in a drawer and handed Jane a folder. "Here."

Jane opened the folder, then looked quickly at Liz, who was on her way to the bathroom. This was not the picture with the caption. It was far more interesting.

"Mmm, great picture."

From the shower, Liz called, "Thanks!"

Jane took another look at the picture and slipped it back into the drawer. Liz has to be crazy not to notice how Fitz looks at her in that picture!

The headwaiter showed Liz, Jane, and Fitz to a table set for three. A waiter brought menus and the three were silent for a while.

Fitz made his choices quickly, and used the time to study the two women. Liz was subdued, unlike her bright yellow dress. He noticed with satisfaction that the print scarf he had given her was a perfect match. His hand found its way to his pocket. The box was there. Maybe tonight, he thought.

He turned his attention to Jane. She wore a pale blue silk dress. Although it was simple, Fitz could tell from the cut that it was expensive. He thought back to what her father had said about her tendency to underestimate herself. His first impression of her had been one of coolness. Perhaps what he saw as reserve was simply shyness.

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter.

"John! This is your table, too?" asked Liz.

"Yes, Miss. How are you this evening."

"I'm well, thank you. Tell me, what's lurking in the seafood crepes?"

"Crabmeat, scallops, and shrimp."

"No clams, mussels, or any of those guys?"

"Not a one."

"Then that's my choice."

"Mine, too" added Jane.

"And you, sir?" asked John.

"I'll have the pasta. And send over the wine steward, please."

Fitz ordered a chardonnay, and when it was delivered, he indicated to the wine steward that Liz should taste the wine.

"It's your turn."

Liz lifted the glass, swirled the wine, inhaled the aroma, and then tasted a sip.

"Lovely," she smiled at the wine steward and nodded. After the wine steward had poured the wine and departed, she added, "How did I do?"

"Fine," said Jane, "But what's this about it being your turn?"

Fitz answered, "I tasted the wine the first night, and Liz commented on the assumption that the man would taste the wine. So I wanted to make up for that."

Their appetizers arrived, and there was a lull in the conversation.

Liz finished her melon and took a sip of her wine. She looked at Fitz, who was picking at his paté. He seemed uncomfortable. She tried to think of a reason, but all she could come up with was that he was embarrassed about the day before. Was he sorry that he had kissed her?

Anne Eliot wandered through the dining room. It wasn't one of the Captain's nights to be in the dining room. In fact, he was on the Bridge with the harbor pilot. But Anne liked to mingle with the passengers, and the dining room was a good place to do it. She couldn't sit and join people mid-meal, so the visits were all short.

Glancing across the room, Anne saw Fitz and Liz. She frowned when she saw that another woman was sitting with them. This was not what she had expected. Anne felt the ship slowing. They were getting ready to drop off the pilot. Good she thought, Fred can help with this.

Anne walked up to the headwaiter's podium and asked about the newcomer. She thanked the headwaiter and walked down the steps toward the table for three.

John set the plates on the table. The seafood crepes in their creamy béchamel sauce were steaming hot. Whole green beans and strips of squash were held in a bundle by a strip of carrot.

Liz sighed, "This is too pretty to eat."

Jane looked up and smiled, "Eat your veggies dear, it'll make your hair curly."

"What? Are you channeling my mother or something?"

"Well, if I am, Liz dear, you are channeling my sulky cousin Lydia!"

At the mention of Lydia, they all thought of Wickham and the reason for the trip. The resulting silence was broken by the arrival of Anne Eliot, who wanted to check out the new passenger.

"Good evening. Welcome to the Pride, Ms Gardiner. I'm Anne Eliot, the ship's hostess. I hope you enjoy the trip home."

"Thank you Ms Eliot. Please call me Jane."

"Jane it is, then. And call me Anne. What do you all have planned for after dinner?"

The three looked at each other questioningly. Finally, Jane spoke up.

"How about going to the Main Lounge? We could listen to the band and then stay for tonight's show." The others nodded.

"Perhaps I'll see you there." And with a smile, Anne left the room and headed straight for the Bridge.

"I know it isn't chocolate, but I still think it's one of the best desserts that we do." John set down three piping hot orange soufflés. He poked a hole in the top of each one and generously spooned in the Grand Marnier sauce. "Be careful, they're hot!"

Fitz was the first to taste his dessert. The two women watched him to see his reaction. He smiled, then quickly grimaced.

"Nasty," he announced. Reaching for Liz's plate he added, "Let me protect you from this stuff."

She laughed and swatted Fitz's hand away. "Nice try, but I'll risk it." His hand moved forward again, and Liz picked up her fork menacingly. "Don't even think about it."

Jane leaned back and watched her two companions banter. This is better. she thought.

Anne reached the Bridge. She looked around and frowned.

"Excuse me, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. Do you know where the Captain is?"

"Yes, ma'am. He is seeing the harbor pilot away. Then I believe he said he would be in his quarters."

"Thank you. Smooth sailing!" She gave him a little salute and was gone.

One deck below the bridge, Captain Wentworth entered his suite. He tossed his jacket on a chair and pulled a bottle of water from the cube fridge behind his desk. He was about to log on and check his email when he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Fred, I need your help."

The band was playing dance music and a few couples were on the dance floor as Jane, Liz, and Fitz found their way to a table in the lounge. A waiter approached and asked if they wanted a drink. Fitz ordered a brandy, but Jane and Liz declined, saying they were too stuffed from dinner.

"Wasn't that soufflé heavenly?" asked Liz. "I wonder how hard it is to make?"

"Soufflés aren't that hard," answered Fitz, to the astonishment of the two women. Seeing their faces, he asked, "What? You don't think I could make one?"

"Sorry," replied Liz. "I didn't mean to be a chauvinist. Or maybe that would be a reverse chauvinist?"

"It's OK, I really have never made a soufflé. But my sister loves them, and our housekeeper-slash-cook says they're easy to do."

"Maybe, but you can't make just one little one like I had tonight. And if you make a big one or a bunch of little ones, then what do you do with the extras? I don't think they're any good warmed over."

Fitz smiled and looked into Liz's eyes, "Invite a guest to dinner."

Liz blushed and looked down at the table. Fitz enjoyed seeing the color in her cheeks. Jane tried to think of a reason to leave the two of them alone at the table.

"There," Anne pointed. "The blonde. Go ask her to dance."

"It will seem rude. I know Liz better. Why would I go up and ask Ms Gardiner to dance instead of Liz?"

"I don't know. Think of something! Has Jane been on the Pride before? You could say welcome back and all that sort of thing."

"Well," he sighed, trying to come up with some reason not to do what he thought was foolish.

"Please, Fred? Do it as a favor for me?" Finally, Anne resorted to a schoolyard whine, "I'll be your very best friend?"

He smiled down at her. Someday, I'll hold you to that. "Very well. You win."

Captain Wentworth strode across the lounge. He stopped at the table to the side of the dance floor.

"Good evening, Liz, Fitz. Ms Gardiner, welcome aboard. I'm delighted that you can join us. You've been aboard the Pride before, I believe?"

"Yes, I have, Captain. I love this ship."

He smiled, "You know the way to a sailor's heart. Compliment his ship. Any fan of my ship is an instant friend." He held out his hand, "Would you care to dance?"

"Thank you." Jane smiled and allowed the Captain to lead her to the floor.

Across the room, Anne was surprised by the sudden twinge of jealousy she felt on seeing the lovely blond in the arms of her handsome Captain. She tried to suppress a frown. He's not YOUR Captain, silly. Besides, you begged him to do this. Get a grip. But she couldn't help thinking how unfair it was that she was supposed to either not dance or dance with passengers. The officers were supposed to dance with the many single women on board. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted to dance with all the officers. Just one, she thought, just one.

Fitz was about to ask Liz to dance when he saw her scowl.

"What's wrong?"

"Look, Anne is over there by herself."

"So she is."

"And the Captain is dancing."

"So he is. What's the problem?"

"He should be dancing with Anne. You didn't see the way she looked for a moment. Poor thing. She's all alone there. Go ask her to dance."

"Then I'll be leaving you all alone here."

"I don't mind."

"Maybe she doesn't mind."

"Fitz!" Liz hissed sharply. He shrugged and crossed to room to Anne.

Liz watched the couples on the dance floor. Fitz looked impassive. Jane smiled serenely. But Anne and the Captain looked quite agitated. Good! A little jealousy never hurt a budding romance!

Over Jane's shoulder, Captain Wentworth looked at the couple dancing nearby. What was Anne up to now? First she had begged him to dance with Jane so that Fitz and Liz could be alone. Now Anne was dancing with Fitz, and Liz was alone. He caught Anne's eye and raised one eyebrow. She gave a tiny shrug. He frowned. Then another couple moved between them and the silent conversation ended.

As they turned, Jane could see Liz, sitting alone. She looked around the room and saw Fitz dancing with the Ship's Hostess. How did this happen?

Brian, the Cruise Director approached Liz and asked her to dance. Although she had told Fitz that she wouldn't mind sitting alone, Liz did feel awkward by herself, so she accepted.

The addition of this couple to the dance floor brought another round of meaningful glances between the Captain and his hostess, as they tried to figure out what to do next.

The band leader had been watching the couples. Something was going on, but what? Then he had an inspiration. Without stopping the music, he took the microphone. He continued to watch the dancers, waiting for the right moment.

"Ladies and gentleman! Everyone switch partners!"

Chapter 42

Posted on Monday, 19 November 2001

It worked. Fitz reached for Liz, and Frederick turned to Anne (To hell with the rules! he thought.). Brian, being used to smoothing over any situation, saw that Jane was without a partner, so he took her hand and danced with her.

"Perfect," murmured Liz, looking in the direction of Frederick and Anne.

"Mmm," agreed Fitz, not looking in any particular direction.

"Wasn't that clever!" whispered Anne.

"Clever?" asked the Captain.

"The switch partners thing. Now Liz and Fitz are dancing together" She smiled at the bandleader, who nodded discretely in return. "I'm going to remind you of this when staff evaluations come around again."

Captain Wentworth looked down at Anne with an affectionate frown, "Since when is meddling a part of the bandleader's job description?"

Jane smiled at Brian. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm the Cruise Director, Brian."

"Brian, I'm Jane Gardiner. As Cruise Director, you could probably answer my question."

"Which is?"

"Does the bandleader often do this change partners thing?"

"No. But I think he saw the opportunity to get Anne and the Captain to dance together and went for it. Quote me and I'll deny it, but the crew all have bets on when those two will get together. Ordinarily, they wouldn't dance together, as Cruise Staff and Officers are supposed to mingle with passengers, not pair off amongst themselves. I hope the change of partners didn't cause a problem for you and your partner."

"Quite the contrary. I was looking for a way to leave Liz and Fitz alone. The switch partners thing worked perfectly. Someone should give the bandleader a raise."

Brian laughed. "As Cruise Director, I'm the one who does for his performance evaluation. Tell you what, if his interference makes my date in the pool the winner, I'll recommend a raise."

The music ended, and the couples left the floor. Jane, Liz, and Fitz sat down at their table. Brian, Anne, and the Captain walked off in separate directions to mingle with other passengers.

Liz yawned. "I'm sorry to be a party pooper, but I'm tired. And the scratches on my neck are starting to itch under the scarf. Oh, Fitz, I forgot to thank you for the scarves. They're lovely, but how did you know I'd need them?"

The pained look in his eyes was answer enough.

"Oh," she said softly. "Well, goodnight. No, Jane, I'm all right. You don't need to come with me. Stay and enjoy the show."

Fitz watched her leave the room. Jane smiled at the wistful look on his face.

"Fitz? If you want to follower her, go ahead. You don't have to keep me company. I'll be fine on my own."

"No, she needs her rest. I'm sorry, but I'm not really in the mood for the show. Would you like to get a little fresh air?"

"That would be lovely."

Anne Eliot finished her conversation with the couple from Chicago and turned around. She saw Fitz escorting Jane from the lounge. Liz was nowhere in sight. She sighed in frustration.

Across the room, the Captain made his excuses to the garrulous elderly ladies from Pennsylvania, with the intention of returning to the Bridge to check in with the Officer of the Watch. He saw the look on Anne's face and followed her gaze toward the door. What now? he wondered.

He made his way through the lounge, passing near Anne on his route to the exit. She caught his eye and he knew from her expression that he could either talk to her now quietly or hear her frustrations at length on the Bridge. He looked at the door, then looked back at Anne. She nodded and headed for a different exit.

In the hall outside the lounge, the Captain met several passengers who were eager to tell him how much they were enjoying the cruise. Normally, he loved to have these conversations, but at the moment, he just wanted to get Anne calmed down and escape to the Bridge. Excusing himself as graciously as possible, he walked to Anne's office. The moment he entered, the tirade began.

"What happened? One minute they were dancing together, and then the next thing I know, Fitz is wandering off with what's-her-name-"

"Jane Gardiner." Whew! She must be mad. She NEVER forgets a passenger's name!

"Right. Jane. So why is Fitz with Jane? And where is Liz?" She stamped her foot in frustration.

"I don't know." He paused, then continued, "Anne, I know you don't want to hear this, but humor me. Sit down."

With a huff, she sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. The Captain sat in the other one. He took a deep breath and reached for her hand.

"Anne, over the years, I've met a lot of Cruise Director's staff members. It is your collective job to make sure the passengers are entertained and happy. Nobody does this better than you do. Time and again, I've seen you give special attention to bored kids, lonely old ladies, queasy first-time sailors, the lot.

"I also know that other members of the Cruise Director's staff tend to say, 'Let Anne handle it. She'll know what to do.' Don't shake your head like that. We both know that you get a lot of the difficult tasks. But sometimes you fall into the 'Julie McCoy' trap. You want the cruise to fix everyone's life and when the passengers disembark, you expect them to live happily ever after."

Anne stared sulkily at the floor. She knew that the Captain was right, but she didn't like hearing it. He let go of her hand and looked at her for a moment. She looked like a little girl who needed a big hug.

"Anne. Look at me." He reached forward and tilted her chin up until her face was level with his. "This is not a dressing-down from the boss. This is advice from someone who... advice from a friend. Let it go. You can't fix everything." He removed his hand from her chin and leaned back in his chair. "Let me hear you say it."

She hesitated.

"Come on, Anne. Say it. I...can't...fix...everything."

"OK. I can't fix everything."

"That's better."

Her expression brightened. "But I can invite them to sit at your table tomorrow night, and maybe I can invite someone to pair off with Jane."

"Did you hear anything I said?"

"I'm not trying to fix this. I'm just going to steer them in the right direction so that they can fix it themselves."

He stood up and looked down at her fondly. "I give up. I am going to the Bridge, where all we have to steer is the ship. I'll leave the fixing of everyone's life to you."

Everyone's life but mine, she thought as the door closed behind him.

Chapter 43

Posted on Monday, 19 November 2001

Fitz opened the door to the Sundeck and held it for Jane. They walked to the center of the deck and looked up at the stars.

Fitz remembered standing there with Liz on the first formal night. He thought about how the breeze had played with the tendrils of hair along the nape of her neck and how stunning she had looked in that red dress. The sound of Jane's voice brought him back to the present.

"I had forgotten how nice it is up here at night. Much less windy than on Promenade Deck."

"I'm sorry, is it too chilly for you up here?"

Jane shook her head, "I'm fine."

"No you aren't. Here." He slipped off his jacket and draped it over Jane's shoulders. Better?"

"Yes, thanks." She sat down on a deck chair. "I feel terrible about all of this."

"About what?"

"Wickham, Liz, my cousin. I feel like it's all my fault."

"Nonsense, Jane. How could it be your fault?"

"Lydia met Wickham through me."

"How?" asked Fitz incredulously. He couldn't imagine how this lovely young woman could be acquainted with someone like George Wickham.

"My sister and I were visiting my Aunt and Uncle Phillips at their place in the Bahamas. We became friendly with one of the neighbors, who invited Charlotte and me to go to a party she had been invited to. Since Suzi knew the roads well, she drove. Unfortunately, she was a little weak on the concept of 'designated driver.' When Char and I were ready to go home, Suzi was drunk. I was about to ask the hosts for the name of a taxi service, when this nice-looking man offered me a ride.

"Suzi was still well into party mode, and didn't want to go home. Normally, I wouldn't accept a ride from a stranger, but the hosts seemed to like him. Plus, my sister would be with me. Safety in numbers, you know."

"I'm sure the hosts liked George. He has a way of being likable," said Fitz bitterly. He stared out at the dark sea, thinking of that afternoon's conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Likeable. Charles is "likable." George is "likable." Funny how hard it is to tell the sincere from the phony.

"Fitz? You still here?"

"Sorry, please go on."

"So Wickham drove us home. He even walked us to the door. And since my aunt and uncle were home, we asked him to come in for a cup of coffee. He was charming and polite to everyone. Lydia took one look at him and went into total flirt mode. Wickham seemed a bit embarrassed by her obvious attentions, but kindly refrained from giving her a complete brush-off."

Fitz frowned, "In short, the perfect gentleman."

"So it seemed. He said that he would be flying home in a few days and then traveling a lot for work. He asked for my number in New York and said he would call if he was going to be in the city for more than a day at a time.

"What nobody noticed was that Lydia slipped him her phone numbers, both at home and at the island house. Over the next few days, Lydia would go to the beach and then wander off. We didn't pay much attention. It's easy to walk farther than you intended and sit in the sand for a while before returning home."

"She was seeing George."

"Yes. And then one night, we were all supposed to go out for a special dinner before Charlotte and I flew home. Lydia claimed to have a headache and stayed behind."

"Claimed to have a headache?"

"It was a ruse to be home alone and invite George over. They had been meeting at his hotel, but he wanted to see her home, her room. I can only imagine the line he fed her, but it worked. At some point in the evening's 'festivities' she took a shower. We think that's when he went through her things and my aunt's, looking for valuables."

"The jewelry, of course. Anything else?"

"No, that was all that was missing. They don't have a lot of expensive things in the house, like sterling silver flatware or candlesticks. The house is pretty casual. The TV and stuff like that are worth money, but Wickham could hardly sneak those out in his pockets.

"My aunt discovered that her jewelry was missing the next morning when she went to put away the necklace she had worn to dinner. She immediately checked Lydia's room and found that her jewelry was gone, too."

"What about you and your sister?"

"We weren't traveling with much of anything valuable-beads, seashell necklaces, funky beachy stuff. The few good pieces we had with us we had worn to dinner.

"My aunt and uncle were frantic. Clearly, the house hadn't been broken into. Their first fear was that Lydia had given the jewelry to someone in trade for drugs. In the end, Lydia realized that denying everything wouldn't work. Confessing to sleeping with Wickham was better than being accused of using drugs."

"What did she say about the jewelry?"

"She didn't deny that he must have taken it. But she actually believed he would give it back at some point."

"Incredible."

"You haven't met my cousin. Anyway, my uncle contacted the authorities, but Wickham had already taken the first flight out. The only way to arrest him was to get him back to the Bahamas. And the rest you know."

"What did your cousin say about this plan to arrest George?"

"She doesn't know. She'd probably have tried to tag along and warn him. I suppose she'll have to testify at his trial. That will be a circus and a half. I pity the poor lawyer who has to get some sense out of Lydia."

"Is there a chance that she'll refuse to testify? They can't press the charges for rape if she doesn't testify."

"She may refuse to testify that he raped her."

"They're looking at statutory rape. Sex may have been consensual, but she was under age at the time, I believe."

"Yes, she was. Not that it's a concept she comprehends. Lydia has thought herself 'old enough' to do just about anything for years."

"I don't see how you can blame yourself, Jane. It sounds as if your cousin was a disaster in the making all along."

"I suppose so. But I contributed to this particular disaster by introducing George to her."

"By your reasoning, I'm guiltier than you are. George always gets away with things. He always has."

"It sounds as if you knew him before this case. I don't mean to pry, but I did get the impression when we met that there was something personal about your involvement."

"You're right. I've known George most of his life. He always had a knack for getting into trouble and talking his way out of it. My sister, Gina, always thought of George as a big brother, and trusted him completely. So when he tried to take advantage of her, she was shocked."

"Did he rape her?"

"No. Fortunately I came home at the right time. I heard her scream and got George away from her and threw him out of the house. She was roughed up a bit in the struggle, but not hurt physically. But she had nightmares for years. I think she still has them occasionally, although she doesn't tell me about them."

"Tonight, when Liz asked about the scarves, she seemed to know something."

"I told her about my sister. After George told Liz his sad story about his history with me, she wanted to hear my version. If Liz had any doubts before, yesterday must have convinced her I was telling the truth about him. As for the scarves, well, I remembered the marks on my sister's neck. She was wearing a necklace, which broke in her struggle with George. She hid the scratches with turtleneck sweaters or scarves. When I saw the scarves in the gift shop, I remembered."

"Your poor sister. I think it's worse what Wickham did to her. Lydia was a silly girl and a stranger. But your sister had thought of him as a friend. That's disgusting."

"Good word for him. Want to hear the most disgusting part? We found Gina's broken chain on the floor, but never found the locket. I got it back today. It was with some jewelry he had with him. Apparently, George kept souvenirs of his 'conquests.' It makes my skin crawl."

"Seeing the locket must have been a shock. I can understand why your mind wandered away before."

"No, I wasn't thinking about George then. Oddly enough, I was thinking about Charles."

"Charles?" asked Jane unsteadily.

"Yes. I said that George was 'likable,' remember?"

Jane nodded.

"Just this afternoon, your father remarked that Charles is 'likable.' Isn't it odd that two men, so fundamentally different, could both be so likable? George is devious and dishonest to the point of cruelty. Charles is honest and kind. In short, as nice as he seems.

"I know that I'm not instantly likable. I don't do well with strangers. It's one of the many reasons I like having Charles working with me. He can smooth over any social situation. I always resented George's ability to charm people within seconds of being introduced, yet I never resented Charles for that same ability."

"Maybe it's because you know them both. Really know them, know which one is sincere. And I don't think you're so hard to like. I liked you right away."

"Thank you, Jane, but I'm not sure you count." Fitz smiled at her puzzled expression. "I suspect that, like Charles, you like just about everyone."

"You mean, including George." She looked ashamed.

"Don't blame yourself for liking him. People always do, at least until he hurts them."

Jane smiled coyly, "OK, so I don't count. What about Liz? Does her opinion count?"

"Probably more than I am willing to admit. I wish I knew what her opinion of me is. We didn't get off to a good start, I guess you saw a bit of that at the meeting the day we sailed." Jane nodded and he continued, "The funny thing is we did get off to a good start. We met on deck briefly, but didn't introduce ourselves. Then I managed to alienate her at the meeting."

"And now?"

"I'm not sure. Things have blown hot and cold between us since we met. Sometimes we push each other's buttons, and sometimes we get along so well it's like we know what the other will say before he or she says it. I never know what to expect. How can I describe it?" He raked his fingers through his hair while he searched for an explanation.

"Did you ever break a thermometer when you were a kid? Play with the mercury that ran out? You know how it gets away from you? Well Liz can be like that, like quicksilver. Just when I think I can hold onto her, she slips through my fingers and I have to start all over again."

"I think I understand."

"I wish I did." He shook his head. "I feel off balance somehow. And I don't know how much of it is due to my attraction to Liz and how much of it is due to dealing with George and this case. I was hoping that we could sort it out now that we're done with George."

"I'm sorry I came aboard. I'll just be in the way."

"No, don't say that. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"Well, let me see if I can help. I'll try to stay out of the way tomorrow and give you some time together." She stood up and handed him his jacket. "Liz is probably asleep by now. I think I'll turn in, too. Goodnight, Fitz."

"Goodnight Jane. Thanks for listening." He watched her walk inside, then leaned back in the deck chair. She really is that sweet. I didn't think they made them like that any more. He stared at the stars, wondering what to do next.

Liz lay in her bed, in that strange state halfway between dreaming and being awake. She thought of how it had felt to dance with Fitz again, and found herself reliving their first dance so many days ago. She propped herself up on one elbow and reached for the dresser drawer. She pulled out the folder and turned on the reading lamp.

She gazed at the couple in the photograph. It seems like a hundred years ago, not just days, she thought. Liz could almost feel the pressure of his hand on her back as they danced. She smiled as she remembered the way they had flirted during dinner. And later, they had stood on deck in the dark, talking about the case.

The case. How much of what had happened between them was part of the case and how much of it was real? Would they see each other once they got back to New York and weren't working together?

Liz sighed and put the photograph away, wondering what it would be like to spend more time with him. She turned out the light, but still couldn't fall asleep. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. Romance and work, work and romance. What was it he had said? It gets messy. He said he had told Charles that.

Suddenly Liz was wide awake. She knew why Charles had gone home. And she didn't like it. She sat up in bed, fists clenched, as the anger welled up in her. Fitz! How could you!

Liz heard Jane put the key in the lock, and quickly lay on her side, facing the wall. She was determined that Jane wouldn't see her tears.

Just before midnight, Fitz left the Computer Center and went to his cabin. He picked up the envelope that had been slipped under the door. The invitation to the Captain's table made him smile. After tonight's quiet dinner, perhaps a larger livelier group would cheer up Liz.

Fitz dropped the invitation on the dresser and picked up the card with ship-to-shore calling instructions and dialed the number in New York. He was surprised to get an answering machine at that hour, but left a brief message. "It's me. Sorry to call so late, but I wanted to make sure you check your email tomorrow morning."

Chapter 44

Posted on Wednesday, 5 December 2001

Jane awoke first. She made sure that the curtain was closed, and dressed quietly. She was about to open the door when she saw the envelopes on the floor. She opened the one addressed to her and read the invitation to join the Captain's table that night. She put her invitation in her shorts pocket and propped Liz's up on the dresser. Tiptoeing to the door, she left Liz in the darkened cabin to sleep late.

Jane put on her sunglasses and stepped out onto Promenade Deck. The early morning joggers and walkers were taking advantage of the clear sky and calm sea. She walked toward the bow and saw Fitz running toward her. He stopped when he came to her, and looked around.

"She's still asleep."

"Oh. Are you planning to walk for long?" he panted.

"Maybe 15 or 20 minutes."

"I'm on my last lap. By the time you have finished your walk, I should be showered and presentable. Shall we meet for breakfast? Is the buffet all right with you?"

"That would be lovely."

Jane watched him turn the corner at the stern, then continued on her own path toward the bow.

Fitz slowed his pace as be began to cool down and end his run. He had hoped that running a few miles would clear his head and help him think of a way to approach Liz. She hadn't said much the previous night. He didn't know how to read her signals. She had sent him to dance with Anne, that couldn't be a good sign.

Yet Liz had seemed happy when the change of partners put her in his arms. Or maybe she was just happy because it put Anne and Fred together. Yes, that was probably it. Liz didn't want to dance with him. Maybe she was annoyed because he had kissed her?

Then he thought of the way she had clung to him on the island. I should have stayed. The police would have handled it. Charles was in Nassau to see to things there. I could have stayed with her. I was supposed to go on the boat, it was part of the job. But Liz needed me and I let her down. Damn and blast! Work and romance, romance and work. Never a good combination.

Liz had only been pretending to be asleep when Jane got up. As soon as Jane tiptoed out of the cabin, Liz sat up and stretched. She walked to the window and pushed the curtain open. The sun was shining on a smooth sea. No hope of feigning seasickness. She would have to come out and deal with it all eventually. But not yet.

She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The ship's satellite dish was picking up CNN, but Liz was not in the mood for news. She surfed through the movie channels, looking for something upbeat. She stopped at "An Ideal Husband." Settling into the pillows, she watched for a while, wondering what her ideal husband would be like. Would she like the saintly character played by Jeremy Northam? Or would she prefer someone like Rupert Everett's twinkle-in-the-eye rogue? Or maybe someone else...

When she woke again, the movie had ended and the screen was blank, waiting for the top of the hour, when the next showing would begin. Liz forced herself to get up. She contemplated breakfast, but wasn't hungry. She opened the envelope on the dresser and read the invitation. Well, maybe I'll be hungry by then.

Finally, she decided that a run on deck would help her gather her thoughts.

Jane and Fitz settled at a table by a window. A waiter poured coffee and took their empty trays. Fitz looked at the pile of food before him and laughed.

"It must be the sea air. I swear to you, I don't eat like this every morning! And look at you-all that fruit and just a little bit of scrambled egg and a single slice of bacon. You're making me feel guilty."

"But you ran this morning. I just walked. Besides, this is no sacrifice. I happen to love fresh fruit."

They ate in silence for a while, then Fitz brought up the subject of the final port on the itinerary.

"What are you going to do tomorrow in Newport News?"

"I'm going to rent a car and drive up to Williamsburg."

"Doesn't the ship offer a tour?"

"Yes, they do, but I'm not interested in a typical introductory tour of Williamsburg. I went to William and Mary, and I worked for CW, so I'm a bit beyond the intro stage."

"CW?"

"Colonial Williamsburg, sorry about the abbreviation. Have you ever been there?"

"Yes, although it has been several years."

Jane stared off into the distance. "I love it. The best thing is to walk around in the Historic Area before the buildings are open and the tourists are all around. You see people heading to work in their costumes, you smell the morning fires being started in the kitchens. I try to imagine that I'm back in the Eighteenth Century." She looked at Fitz. "Does that sound crazy? I can't really tell you how it makes me feel. It's so very special to me."

"I understand. Unfortunately, I don't think you'll be able to get there early tomorrow."

"No, but that's all right. It's special no matter when you go. I was planning to ask Liz to come along. You're welcome, too, of course."

"Thank you. Let's see what happens today, shall we?"

Jane nodded, "Right. I think I'll go check on Sleeping Beauty. I expect we'll be up on the Sundeck later this morning. Once she's settled in a deck chair, I'll find you and let you know. Where will you be?"

"I think I'll be in the Computer Center for a while this morning. Try there."

"See you there."

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. With every step, Liz repeated the word. She rounded the corner at the stern and changed her refrain.

Love, work, love, work, love, work. Why can't they go together? Why couldn't he trust Charles to do his job and still spend time with Jane? Who does he think he is to run his friend's life?

"Dumb, dumb, dumb!" she said aloud as she passed a woman who was settling into a deck chair. The woman stared at her curiously. Liz kept running.

Dumb, dumb, dumb! How dumb can I get? How can I fall for a guy who would give so little thought to his friend's happiness? How can I fall for a guy who'd hurt Jane like that? Just because he is tall and handsome and strong and-

She stopped running and went inside to return to her cabin. She remembered how comfortable it had felt to dance with him again. She squared her shoulders. No, you don't, Fitz Darcy. I saw how quiet Jane was last night. Don't you know that was your fault?

Back in her cabin, Liz removed the scarf and examined her neck in the mirror. The bruises were Technicolor now, but they would fade soon enough. She looked at the scarf she held in her hand. "You were so kind to me. Why couldn't you be kind to Jane and Charles?"

She threw the scarf on the bed and headed for the shower. When she emerged, Jane had just returned from breakfast.

"Oh, good, you're awake. What are you going to do this morning?"

"I don't know. I just had a run. Now I think I'll take my book and sit on deck and read."

"What about breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

After seeing Liz settled in a deck chair, Jane left to find Fitz. She was about to enter the Computer Center when she saw Anne.

"Good morning. Thank you so much for the invitation to the Captain's table tonight. I'm looking forward to it. I hope you invited Fitz, too."

"Yes, I did," replied Anne. Then, a bit pointedly, she added, "And Liz." So don't get ideas, Ms Gardiner!

"Yes, I saw the invitation for Liz. Is there any way to arrange the seating in advance?"

Anne eyed her warily. "What did you have in mind?"

"Liz and Fitz and I ate together last night, and, well, three's a crowd, you know?"

"Yes." Anne could not believe the nerve of this woman, trying to cut Liz out like that. Only her professionalism was keeping her from scratching Jane's eyes out.

"At the larger table, it will be less awkward for the three of us, but, well, if you could fix it so that the three of us don't sit together, that would be wonderful." Not noticing the tightness of Anne's jaw, Jane continued, "You see, neither Liz nor Fitz would agree to it if I offered to leave them alone. But if you can finesse it so that they sit together tonight, that would make me feel a lot better."

Anne released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Ashamed at having misjudged the situation, she quickly answered, "I've already been trying to think of something. If it wouldn't be too presumptuous, might I invite a single gentleman to be your table partner tonight? Perhaps I can get the Captain to chat with Liz and Fitz at the end of the reception and delay them a bit. Then you and I can get everyone into place so that Liz and Fitz end up together."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you so much!"

Anne beamed, "No, thank you, Jane! This will be perfect!" She practically skipped to the Bridge to give the Captain his "orders" for the evening.

Jane found Fitz and told him where Liz was sitting. She took over his computer terminal and opened the computer's game software. She sighed. Solitaire. How appropriate.

Liz was stretched out on a deck chair, immersed in her book. Her concentration was broken when a shadow fell across the pages.

"How are you feeling today?" asked Fitz.

"I'm all right," shrugged Liz. Fitz sat on the empty chair next to hers and looked at her, trying to judge her mood.

"Is there something else?" she asked in a dismissive tone.

"What's wrong?"

As if you couldn't guess! "Nothing."

"Something is wrong. Tell me."

"It's nothing."

"Whatever it is, it isn't nothing. And it matters to me. You matter to me. Please tell me."

"It matters to you. It's all about you. Your opinion is the one that counts. You make all the decisions for everyone. You pretend to take care of everyone, but you're only making sure things come out the way you want them to. How could you?"

Completely baffled by this tirade, Fitz stared at Liz for a moment. "How could I what?"

"Oh, please, like you don't know. How could you do that to a friend? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have someone walk out on you?" No, of course you don't, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome-Perfect-Man.

"Liz, I'm sorry. I had to-"

"Hah! Had to, that's a good one! You just had to go and ruin it."

"Liz, I'm sorry I didn't stay on the island with you, but-"

Once again she cut him off in mid sentence. "Don't. Do not apologize. We both know you aren't sorry. You needed to be in Nassau, of course you did. You had to get there to pull all the strings. What gets me is that I was starting to-" she stopped, then started again, "I thought you were someone special. I should have trusted my first impression. You really are the arrogant jerk I thought you were." She slammed her book shut and stomped to her cabin.

Fitz sat in the sunlight. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out the box he had been carrying for days. Turning it over and over in his hands, he tried to piece together the conversation. What did I ruin? What strings did I pull? He had no idea how long he had been sitting there when Jane finally arrived.

"Where's Liz?"

He slipped the box into his pocket and shrugged.

"How did it go?"

"Not well. It appears that I ruined everything and she hates me."

"What did you ruin?"

"I have no idea," he replied dejectedly.

"Maybe I should talk to her."

"No, don't risk making her angry at you, too. I'll go down to your cabin and see if she'll talk to me. If she's determined to be mad at the world, I'll give her some time to calm down."

Jane reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"So am I." Then Liz's words came back to him, We both know you aren't sorry. He sighed, "I just wish I knew what I did that upset her."

Fitz knocked gently on the cabin door. "Liz, please talk to me."

"Go away."

"Liz, please. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Gah! That is such a cop-out. Why do guys pull that crap? 'Whatever I did, I'm sorry.' That is so stupid. How can an apology be sincere when you don't even know what it is you're apologizing for? Admit it, you don't think you did anything wrong!"

"Well, no I don't but you obviously think I did, so I thought I could-"

"You can't. So just go away. And don't stand out there talking because I am going to take a shower and I won't be able to hear you."

Fitz heard her slam the bathroom door. Uncertain if she really was in the bathroom, he hesitated. Then he decided to give her some time to cool off.

Meanwhile, Liz stood in the bathroom, wondering if Fitz could hear the shower running. After a few minutes, curiosity got the better of her and she tiptoed to the cabin door and looked through the peephole.

Fitz was gone. Liz was surprised to discover that she was a bit disappointed that he hadn't been more persistent. Disgusted with herself, she turned off the water and flopped down on her bed to read.

Some time later, the rustle of paper got her attention. She looked at the floor and saw a note. She returned her attention to her book.

A few minutes later, she looked at the note on the floor. She shook her head and kept reading.

Another few minutes went by and Liz realized that she couldn't remember a single thing that she had read since the note appeared. She got up and picked up the note. She recognized Fitz's writing. She threw the note in the wastebasket and went back to the beginning of the chapter, trying to find the place where her attention had wandered.

Nothing was sinking in. She stared at the wastebasket. The letter was in there, driving her crazy. She got up and retrieved the letter. She tore it in half and threw it back into the wastebasket. She sat on the bed and saw the half of the note that hadn't made it into the wastebasket.

Angrily, she walked across the cabin and snatched up the paper from the floor. She was about to crumple the paper when her eyes fell on the signature. She stood there looking at his name. "Oh, hell!" she muttered, digging the other half of the note out of the wastebasket. Holding the pieces together, she read the note.

Dear Liz,

I regret my earlier "generic" apology for "whatever I did." I know it sounded stupid, but I didn't know what else to say. I am sorry you are upset, even sorrier that I am the reason you are upset.

I want to make it up to you, but I can't do that until you tell me what's wrong. Please talk to me, Liz.

The cocktail party is at 6:30. Please meet me for a drink before then so that we can straighten things out. How about 6:00 in the Chart Room? If not, just tell me when and where and I'll be there.

Fitz

Chapter 45

Posted on Wednesday, 5 December 2001

"Liz, are you about ready?" Jane walked out of the bathroom and frowned when she saw Liz still in her Pride bathrobe. "The cocktail party is in 15 minutes. You need to hurry."

"I'm not going."

"Of course you are."

"I don't want to," she replied sulkily.

"Too bad," said Jane as she opened the door to Liz's closet. She pulled out a pale green slipdress with spaghetti straps. "What's left to wear? This one? The is the one the new scarf goes with."

Jane draped the dress across the foot of Liz's bed, then walked to her own closet. She pulled out a cornflower blue dress and slipped it over her head.

"Liz? Help me with the button at the neck."

Liz got up and trudged over to Jane. After the dress was buttoned, Jane turned around and looked at Liz. She pushed aside the collar of the robe.

"Hmm, I think we can deal with this. Put on the dress and-"

"I said I'm not going to the party."

"I know you aren't, but I am and you need me to help you with the scarf. I have a great idea of how to cover the bruises."

"Fine," huffed Liz.

Liz put on the dress and stood in front of Jane. "OK, the dress is on."

"You don't want to get makeup on the scarf, so do your face." Liz glared at Jane, but sat down in front of the mirror and complied.

"Good, now your hair has to be down in the back, so let's pull the front back with a clip. Perfect. I'll just pin up the rest temporarily. OK. Now for the scarf." Jane pulled out a small sewing kit. She draped the scarf across the front of Liz's neck, and ran several long stitches back and forth behind the back of Liz's neck. A few more stitches secured the scarf to the straps of the dress.

Jane pulled the pins out of Liz's hair and smoothed the curls that tumbled down Liz's back and covered the threads. She smiled at Liz in the mirror.

"Stand up and let's see how it works."

Reluctantly, Liz stood and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. The ends of the scarf hung gracefully from her shoulders, just as Jane had intended. The look was glamorous. Tears welled up in Liz's eyes as Jane hugged her.

"Come on, then. You look so lovely, let's show you off at the party. What do you say?"

"I had no idea you could be so manipulative, Jane."

"I shall choose to ignore that remark. Earrings, Liz. Shoes. Let's go!"

As they left the cabin, Liz glanced at the clock on the dresser. It was just 6:30. She stifled a small pang of guilt and followed Jane out into the hall.

Fitz finished his glass of champagne and looked at his watch. 6:10, that's fashionably late. She probably wants to make me wait a bit. He ordered another drink.

Fitz smiled at the waiter who refilled his champagne glass. Champagne. That was wishful thinking. What do I have to celebrate? He looked at his watch again. It was 6:14. She isn't coming.

Eduardo, the Chart Room bartender, smiled sympathetically at the tall passenger. The guy looked like an expensive Scotch, not a champagne. Eduardo watched as the passenger checked his watch for the umpteenth time. Maybe the lady likes champagne. I wonder if she's going to show?

Fitz had already turned down two women who had asked if the empty seat at his table was taken when a third appeared. She was a stunning blonde with a salon-perfect tan. For a moment he was tempted to invite her to sit down, but he knew that jealousy wouldn't be a good route to try with Liz. Anyhow, Liz wasn't coming, so it wouldn't matter.

"No, the seat isn't taken. In fact, the table is all yours. I have to go. Please excuse me." He smiled at the woman, walked to the bar, signed his tab, and left.

The reception line for the past passengers' cocktail party was moving along at a good pace. Although Liz was a first-timer on the Pride, Anne had insisted she attend the party. Jane maneuvered Liz ahead of her.

As Liz was greeting the Captain, Anne whispered to Jane, "Where's Fitz?" Jane gave a little shrug and moved on to talk briefly with the Captain.

Jane and Liz accepted flutes of champagne as they entered the Derbyshire Room. Jane looked around for Fitz, but couldn't see him. Liz walked toward the bar, so Jane followed her.

"Hi, Colonel! Jane, this is the Colonel. He makes the best daiquiris in the world. He pours good champagne, too." She held out her empty flute and he filled it. He noticed that Jane's flute was still nearly full. He smiled and greeted Jane. Together, they watched Liz take a large swallow of champagne. Jane decided to take control of the situation. With a wry smile at the bartender, she steered Liz away from the bar.

"Here, Liz, why don't we sit at this table?" A passing waiter offered some hors d'oeuvres. Jane took two, Liz declined and drank more of her champagne. Jane was beginning to sense a disaster in the offing when the cruise director stepped to the microphone.

"Good evening Ladies and Gentleman. Have you enjoyed your day at sea?" A round of applause answered his question.

"Good! We have been very lucky with the weather on this cruise, and our luck is going to hold. I am told that the weather in Virginia tomorrow will be lovely, and the spring gardens are in full bloom. We will arrive on schedule, so our lovely tours will depart on time. And now, I would like to introduce our host for this evening's cocktail party, Captain Wentworth."

Amidst a round of applause, the Captain strode forward and took the microphone. He looked at the crowd and was about to speak when he saw Anne walking to the back of the room. She had been edgy all evening. Still looking for Fitz, he thought. Remembering that he was facing a room full of passengers, he recovered quickly.

"Good evening. It is good to see so many of you who have come back to sail with Austen once again. This is a special party, because we think of our repeat passengers as members of our family." The applause that followed bought him a moment to chart Anne's progress through the lounge. She had found Fitz. Good. That will calm her down a bit.

When the applause died down, he continued. "As we think of you as family, I had hoped to have a special treat for you. I want you all to join me in a toast. So while the waiters recharge your glasses, let me say that I have enjoyed having the opportunity to chat with many of you during the cruise, and I have been entertained by the many suggestions you have made for the name of our new ship. Tonight, I am pleased to tell you that I have been given permission to announce the name of our new ship." He paused for effect, and looked around the room to see if waiters had finished pouring champagne.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please raise your glasses and drink to our new ship, the Austen Pemberley."

"The Austen Pemberley!" resounded through the room, followed by applause.

When the room became quiet again, the Captain continued. "No, I don't know who will be her captain." There was a ripple of laughter. "But whichever Austen ship I find myself on, I hope to see many of you again. Thank you for sailing with us. Enjoy your evening!" More applause followed, and then the band began to play as conversation resumed around the room.

Liz snagged yet another flute of champagne from a passing waiter. Jane frowned, but said nothing. Over Liz's shoulder, she could see Fitz and Anne approaching. As she reached the table, Anne smiled and greeted the two women. Fitz wore a blank expression as he stood beside Anne. Jane and Anne exchanged brief looks of dismay, and Anne decided to try to start a conversation.

"Well, wasn't that exciting? To be here for the big announcement! You know, Captain Wentworth was rather casual about not knowing who will be the Master of the Pemberley, but I know he would just love to get that assignment. He adores the Pride, of course, but there is something special about being a ship's very first Captain."

Eager to help the conversation along, Jane asked, "What other names were under consideration?"

"Oh, quite a few. Let's see, there was Donwell, Northanger, the Prince Regent, I forget the rest. Ah, here is Captain Wentworth. Perhaps he remembers some others."

"Hello. Ladies, you all look lovely this evening. Ms Bennet, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of dancing with you. Shall we?"

Liz rose a bit unsteadily and allowed Captain Wentworth to lead her to the dance floor. Anne desperately needed to speak to Jane, but not with Fitz present. She frowned at the dancing couple, feigning jealousy.

"Fitz, give them a minute, then cut in, would you?"

"Anne, I don't think-"

"Please? As a favor to me?"

Fitz hesitated, wondering if Liz would tell him to go to hell, right there in the middle of the dance floor. Oh, well, nothing ventured...

As soon as Fitz walked away, Anne and Jane made a beeline for the door.

Fitz tapped the Captain's shoulder, "May I?

Captain Wentworth smiled and handed Liz to Fitz. The change was made so smoothly that she found herself in Fitz's arms before she knew what had happened. She relaxed and started to lean in toward him, then remembered that she was angry with him.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine, just dance."

"I don't want to dance with you, either."

He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and whispered, "Don't embarrass the Captain. It wouldn't be nice to make people think he handed you over to someone you hate." He held his breath, waiting for her response to this remark. He was a bit surprised that she said nothing.

someone you hate...That's right Fitz, I hate you. Do I? Of course I do. Well, maybe I do. If only your arms weren't so strong. If only you weren't a perfect dancer. If only, um, wait, that isn't what was I thinking. The champagne that she had hoped would give her the false courage to tell him off was not helping at all. She cleared her thoughts and pushed away from him.

"We're done here."

"Yes, so it would seem. The music has stopped. It's time for dinner. Shall we?" Fitz held out his arm. Liz turned to stalk away, but her rapid movement made the room spin a bit. Smoothly, Fitz caught up to her, took her arm, and led her from the now empty dance floor.

Jane, Anne, and the Captain walked toward the dining room. Anne smiled up at the Captain, "Fred, asking Liz to dance was inspired. Jane and I were wondering how to get away without making Liz suspicious."

"She'll be suspicious," Jane warned. " I had to be pretty creative to maneuver her into coming to the cocktail party. And now she's had a few more glasses of champagne than she needed. She's angry at Fitz over something, but I don't know what it is."

"He seems to be handling it smoothly."

"We'll see. But I have this image of Bette Davis saying, 'Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy evening.'"

"Here we are," said Anne as they reached the table. "And here is Mr. Brandon, right on time. Jane, this is Christopher Brandon. Chris, this is Jane Gardiner. Jane is a personal stylist from New York. Chris comes from England and is a champion equestrian. Oh, and here are Mr. and Mrs. Bryan Douglas, who are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary this week."

Jane and her partner were seated to one side of the Captain, then Mr. and Mrs. Douglas and then Anne. The remaining two seats were empty for the moment, and the six occupants of the table chatted idly.

With his hand at the small of her back, Fitz guided Liz to the table. She stopped short when she saw that the two available seats were together. She shot Jane a venomous glance, then sat in the chair Fitz pulled out for her. Anne crossed her fingers under the table, hoping that the presence of strangers would bring out Liz's good manners.

Waiters handed out menus, reminded everyone that the passengers should stay at the table until 9:30 PM, when the waiters would parade through the room with flaming baked Alaska.

While everyone else discussed the various choices on the menu, Liz remained silent. Fitz asked one of the waiters about the sauce on the chicken. From behind her menu and so quietly that only Fitz could hear, she said, "I hear snake tastes like chicken."

After everyone had ordered dinner, Anne tried to start a conversation. Searching for a benign topic, she asked the Douglas's about their anniversary.

"Oh, we had a lovely day in Nassau. Bryan found one of those perfume stores and tracked down the perfume he gave me on our first Christmas together." She smiled at her husband. "Wind Song. It's a fragrance that has been around for ages. It's made by Prince, um..."

"Machiavelli," said Liz, looking daggers at Fitz.

"Not quite, dear," replied the woman, "But it's something like that."

The wine the Captain ordered arrived, and after it was tasted and poured, he raised his glass and toasted the Anniversary couple.

"The Mr. and Mrs. Douglas. Congratulations on thirty years of marriage. May you have many more!" Glasses were clinked all around, well, almost all around. Liz pointedly avoided clinking Fitz's glass.

Chris Brandon saw Jane give Liz a pointed look. As the waiters set the appetizers on the table, he took advantage of the moment to whisper to Jane.

"What's going on? I feel like a fight will break out at any moment."

"It might," whispered Jane. "Be prepared to duck." His horrified expression made Jane laugh. Liz started to look up, and Jane hid her smile behind her water glass.

Several people at the table, including Liz and Fitz, had ordered the mushroom turnover for an appetizer. Hoping to help the situation, Chris Brandon offered an opinion on what he thought would be a neutral topic.

"This is excellent. I do love mushrooms. And the seasoning of the sauce is perfect."

"Yes, it's very good," agreed Fitz.

"Well, you would know about mushrooms," Liz hissed at Fitz. "They're kept in the dark and fed-"

"So, Liz," interrupted the Captain. "Jane's father told me you two ladies went shopping yesterday. Is that lovely scarf part of your plunder?"

"Yes, Jane convinced me to buy it."

Jane smiled, "I knew it would go with that dress. And I thought it would be a good addition to her collection of scarves." Jane saw tears spring to Liz's eyes at the allusion to Fitz's gift. Although she felt sorry for her friend, Jane was pleased that her remark stopping the sniping, at least for a while.

The main course passed uneventfully. Liz had nothing more to say, letting the conversation swirl around her. She had several glasses of wine to wash down her filet mignon, and Jane marveled at her consumption. Jane could only hope that Liz would be a quiet drunk.

As they were almost finished with dinner, one of the ship's photographers approached the table to take a group picture. He rearranged everyone to one side of the table and took a few shots. Then he proceeded to take a picture of each couple. He smiled at the Douglas's.

"That's right, put your arm around her. Say 'Happy Anniversary!' Lovely. Now you two." He turned to Liz and Fitz. "Lean in together. Oh, come on, closer now." Liz sat stiff as a ramrod, and Fitz turned to look at her just as the picture was snapped. Jane and Chris Brandon declined a photo saying that they weren't a couple.

Liz was about to make a smart remark about couples, but was startled into silence when the lights in the dining room were turned off. Music began to play over the dining room's speaker system. Then, from the kitchen, a parade of waiters carrying flaming baked Alaskas filed through the room. Flashes went off all over the room as passengers took pictures of the smiling waiters.

When the parade of waiters was over and the lights had been turned back on, Fitz turned to Captain Wentworth.

"Fred, I've always wanted to ask you about this. Isn't it a safety hazard? The first day, we always hear the warnings about the danger of fire at sea. Then, on the last formal night, you let the waiters try to set us aflame."

The Captain laughed and answered, "Fitz, they use those cans of gelled alcohol. It burns at a very low temperature. I've even seen some waiters dip their fingers into the can and let the alcohol burn out of the gel right there in their hands. We used to use sparklers, but someone complained about the sparks falling into the baked Alaska, so we couldn't serve the ones that were paraded. That was wasteful, so now we use the other stuff."

As he finished, the waiters set plates of the sweet dessert in front of everyone.

Mrs. Douglas was impressed. "I love to bake, but I've never had the nerve to try this. It must be difficult."

"The secret is in the freezing," explained Anne. You have to get the ice cream very cold so that it doesn't melt while the whole thing is in the oven to bake the meringue."

"That's right," added Liz. "It's only warm on the outside. Inside it's as cold and hard as ice."

Fitz reached into his lap and grabbed his napkin. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to throw it on the table and run from the room. Instead, he pushed his chair back slowly and gently placed the napkin next to his plate.

"I'm afraid I'm too full for dessert. I hate to break up the party, but I did want to see the movie in the theater. If you'll excuse me." He had no idea what the movie was, if there even was one, but it sounded like a reasonable excuse-and it was the only one he could come up with on short notice. He wished the Douglas's a happy anniversary, said goodnight to everyone else and left the room.

Fitz did not go to the theater. Instead he went to the Computer Center and logged onto the Internet. After he finished a few emails, he entered the url for the site he wanted. Tapping his fingers on the desk, he waited for the page to come up.

Chapter 46

Posted on Wednesday, 12 December 2001

Juggling a mug of coffee and a pastry in one hand, Jane opened the cabin door with her other hand.

"You awake?"

"Mmmfflll."

"Liz?"

A hand emerged from under the covers. It pushed the sheet down far enough to expose an eye. A muffled voice said, "Jane?"

"Yes, it's me. We're docked. Are you ready to get up?"

The sheet crept down a bit lower. "I dunno," Liz yawned.

"How do you feel?"

Liz sat up cautiously. "I don't know yet. Ask me around noon."

"I brought you some coffee." Jane held out the steaming mug. She was astonished to see tears stream down Liz's face. "What's wrong?"

"Fitz brought me coffee."

"When? This morning?"

"No, (sniff) in Bermuda. And I was mean to him."

"In Bermuda?"

"No, last night. (sniff) Bermuda was really (sniff) nice."

"Liz, Honey, you're not making sense."

"I know." She swallowed some coffee and watched as Jane took out her cell phone.

"I'm going up on deck to get some air and call the rental place. They should be open about now. Get dressed and I'll be back to collect you."

Fitz sat in a deck chair. He was grateful that the Sundeck was deserted at this hour. Everyone was at breakfast or getting ready to board one of the many tour buses lined up near the pier. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Jane approach.

"Good morning."

"Hmm?" He looked up at her.

"How are you?" She frowned at the circles under his eyes. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A little."

"Are you sure you won't come with us?"

"I know you mean well, Jane, but no. You tried, but it didn't work. She hates me."

"I don't think so. She's feeling sorry this morning."

"Sorry she drank so much wine. Sorry she was rude at dinner. Sorry she disappointed you by misbehaving. Not sorry about hating me."

"Fitz-"

"No." He shook his head and stood up. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Enjoy your day in Williamsburg."

Jane watched him walk away. She made her phone call and returned to the cabin to collect Liz.

They had driven most of the way in silence. Jane was waiting for the right moment to bring up the uncomfortable subject of Fitz Darcy. Maybe if Liz had a relaxing day, she'd return to the ship in a better frame of mind and be ready to apologize to Fitz.

Jane took the Williamsburg exit from I-64. "We're almost there!"

"Jane, you're going the wrong way. It says the Colonial Parkway is that way."

"No, we're going right into town. This is called Francis Street. Look over there. That's the Capitol. And there's the Williamsburg Inn, down that long driveway. You know, you can stay in some of the colonial houses along here, too."

Jane parked the car and hopped out. "Don't forget your camera!"

Liz peered at Jane over her sunglasses. "You don't have to shout, Jane. I can hear you."

Jane laughed, grabbed Liz's hand and dragged her over to the market stalls.

"First thing we do is get you a cookie." Jane bought ginger cookies and cups of cider. As they snacked and walked down the main street, Duke of Gloucester Street, Jane named houses that they passed. She spouted historical details and soon could see Liz falling under the spell of Virginia's colonial capital.

After they bought tickets and browsed through the merchandise at one of the colonial shops, Jane suggested a tour of the gardens at the Governor's Palace. There they wandered past beds of tulips and daffodils bordered by perfectly manicured boxwoods. And then they came to the maze.

"Mazes were quite popular in formal gardens of the Eighteenth Century. See, the arrow shows you which way to start." Jane watched Liz bound into the maze. With a wicked grin, she took a different turn.

"Ha, Jane, I beat you to the middle," called Liz over the tops of the hedges. She turned, and Jane, who had been waiting on the bench in the center of the maze, snapped her picture.

Liz jumped, "Hey, how did you do that?"

"I'll never tell," laughed Jane. "But you can probably figure it out." She showed Liz the "Exit" arrow. One turn and they were at the gate.

"You sneak! You went in the exit!"

"Oh, Liz, you don't know how many people I've suckered this way!"

After the tour of the gardens, they walked past the Windmill and then back to the Duke of Gloucester Street. They visited the apothecary, who inquired as to their ailments. Jane elbowed Liz to get her attention.

"Might you have something to help with the fox?" asked Jane. The guide laughed and explained to the other visitors that "the fox" was an Eighteenth Century euphemism for a hangover. Liz made a face at Jane.

From there, they went to the Wigmaker and Barber, where they saw how hair was sewn into a wig, learned about wig blocks (the source of the term "blockhead"), and declined an offer to have a tooth pulled.

Walking out to the street, Liz laughed. "Jane, you are the best tour guide. So tell me, Ms Guide to Williamsburg, where do we have lunch?"

"This is a tough call. Normally, I'd suggest one of the taverns. The food is excellent, and it's a great part of the experience. But I have such a craving for something truly decadent. So follow me!"

Liz followed Jane to the modern shopping area near the College of William and Mary. Jane walked up to the hostess at a restaurant and asked about a table outside. Soon they were seated at a table in front of the restaurant. Jane waved away the menus. Liz raised an eyebrow.

"Trust me, Liz." To the waitress, she said, "Two salads and two iced teas."

The waitress grinned, "And I can guess what you want for dessert." Jane nodded and the waitress left.

"What about the dessert."

"No, you have to wait. It's beyond description."

Their salads arrived and Jane finally found the nerve to bring up a delicate subject.

"Liz, I saw Fitz this morning. He looked like hell. I doubt he slept much last night. What did he do that made you so angry."

"Remember how Charles just disappeared from Nassau."

"Yes."

"Fitz sent him home because he didn't approve."

"Approve of what?"

"Charles seeing you while he was on a case for your father. Fitz has a thing about mixing romance and work."

"Fitz said it had to do with some other case."

"Well, he would say that, of course. But I find it a bit too convenient that the minute Fitz arrives and sees you two together, Charles has to leave. Fitz is smart. I saw how he manipulated George."

"You two did that together, Liz."

"Yeah, well, I know that he likes to be in control of the situation. He's the boss, he sent Charles home. Come on, Jane. If it really was a case, Charles would have explained. Fitz told him to scoot and he scooted."

"I don't think Charles would do that. He didn't explain because he had to catch a flight in a hurry."

"Well, he better call you when you get back to New York!"

"He may not have to."

"What do you mean?"

Jane leaned back and smiled. "Who says I can't call him? Ah, here comes dessert."

The waitress placed the plate between them. Sitting in a pool of chocolate sauce was a multi-layered cake. Layers of chocolate mousse and hazelnut mousse separated layers of brownie and cocoa meringue. A layer of chocolate ganache topped by chocolate mousse covered the top.

"Death by Chocolate!"* Announced the waitress, who placed a fork in front of each of the smiling women.

"Wow!" breathed Liz. "Now I see why you just ordered salads for lunch. This would be lunch in itself."

"I know, but the salad is important. It's the healthy part that balances all these calories."

After a very slow stroll through some of the stores, Liz and Jane returned to the car. They rode in silence for a while, and then Liz finally spoke.

"You think I was too rough on Fitz, don't you?"

"Considering that you never told him about your suspicions, yes I think you were unfair. You're a lawyer, Liz. What about the accused's right to know what he is alleged to have done?"

"I know, but-"

"No buts. Talk to him tonight. I will have dinner by myself, and you two will have dinner together. Better still, talk to him before dinner, and then have dinner together. OK?"

"Yes, Jane. Oh, there's the exit for Newport News. We'll be back in plenty of time."

They returned the car and walked along the pier toward the ship. Jane was instructing Liz on where to stand so that she could get a picture of Liz in front of the bow when a voice behind her said, "Perhaps I could take a picture of the two of you together?"

* author's note: Many restaurants have versions of "Death by Chocolate," but the Trellis in Williamsburg has the best version I've ever tasted-at about 1300 calories per serving!

Chapter 47

Posted on Wednesday, 12 December 2001

"Charles?" Jane couldn't believe it. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned, "Offering my services as photographer. Go stand by Liz. Go on!"

Jane scampered over to Liz, who was standing open-mouthed in shock. When she reached Liz, Jane squealed softly, "He came back!" The two threw their arms around each other and turned to face Charles, who did not have to say "smile."

After snapping the picture, Charles walked up to the two women. He held his hand out, as if to say "stop," so they stood where they were. He took another picture, and then handed Jane her camera.

"Oh," sighed Jane. "We're sailing soon. I wish I'd known you were coming down here, Charles. I wouldn't have driven up to Williamsburg."

Charles checked his watch. "Hey, you're right. The ship leaves in about an hour. You girls need to get on board. I'll walk you over."

The three strolled toward the ship. Liz kept trying to walk ahead and give them some privacy, but Charles seemed determined to keep her in the conversation. When they reached the gangway, Liz went ahead and Jane paused to say goodbye. But Charles kept walking. He looked back to see a very confused Jane.

"Well, are you coming? Don't tell me you lost your security pass! They won't let you in on mine, you know." With this, Charles held out his bar-coded boarding pass to be swiped and then walked onto the ship. He turned and grinned at Jane, who bolted up the gangway and waved her pass at the security officer.

"Excuse me, miss," said the smiling officer. "Could you stand still for a moment? I need to read your pass." The computer beeped and Jane ran up to Charles and threw her arms around him.

Liz looked at them, still amazed at what had happened. "How..." she started.

Realizing that they were blocking the hallway, Charles laughed and replied, "Long story, which I will tell you over afternoon tea. Drop off your stuff and I'll meet you there, assuming I don't get lost on the way."

Because many of the tour buses were only just pulling up to the pier, afternoon tea in the Neptune Room was quiet. Liz thought back to the first day of the cruise, when she and Fitz had taken tea in this room. She was about to ask Charles where Fitz was when Jane started a different line of conversation.

"What happened, Charles? All Fitz said was that you had to go back to New York for a case."

"Didn't you get my note? I left it with the hotel clerk at the front desk when I checked out. I'm sure I did. It wasn't in my pocket or briefcase when I got back to New York. How odd. Well, that's appropriate. The whole thing was a comedy of errors." He paused in his tale while the waiters served them cucumber and salmon tea sandwiches.

"Mmm, delicious. Now, where do I start? Jane, you remember that we had dinner that night in Nassau, and Fitz didn't come with us?" Jane nodded. "When I went back to talk to him, a call for me was forwarded to his room. The operator was trying to reach me with a long-distance call from New York. It was someone from the District Attorney's office, telling me that I would be needed to testify the next day."

"Why such short notice?" asked Liz. "Usually the DA's office schedules witnesses on more notice than that."

Charles nodded, "Yes, that's generally so. But they decided to change their approach rather last-minute and needed me at the beginning of their part, rather than at the end."

"Why did you call it a comedy of errors?" asked Jane.

"The errors began when I got that call. I made arrangements to take the first flight out, which is why I wasn't there for breakfast in Nassau. I got to New York; the flight was late, of course. They always are when you're in a hurry. Then getting a cab was difficult. I went straight to the courthouse, raced to the courtroom and nobody was there!

"Of course, my first thought was that I had written down the wrong courtroom, so I found a clerk and asked about the case. All he could tell me was that I did have the right room, but the case seemed to be over. So then I had to haul-um, drag myself over to the DA's office. Very casually, they told me, 'Oh, we settled on a plea this morning. I tried your cell, but couldn't get through so I left a message at your office.' All that rush for NOTHING. And I could have been lying in the sun with you guys. But no, I had run around like a lunatic."

They all laughed at his comical exasperation. During the break in the conversation, Charles waved a waiter over to pour more tea. The sweets tray appeared, and they made their choices.

Liz picked up the thread of the conversation. "So, then, Charles, you were done with the case so you flew here?"

He nodded, "Fitz and I have been emailing back and forth, and when I told him about the screwed-up case, he said that I deserved to enjoy some part of the cruise, even if it wasn't as much as we had originally intended. So here I am."

"When was this?" asked Liz.

"The night you sailed from Nassau. It was his idea not to say anything. He thought it would make a nice surprise for Jane."

Jane voiced the question that Liz had been afraid to ask, "And where is Fitz?"

Liz's stomach lurched as she heard the answer she had been dreading.

"New York. He said he had made a huge mistake on a case and had to get home ASAP. I tried to convince him to stay, I mean it's only one more day. But he was determined. He seemed pretty grim. It isn't like him to show his emotions. He's a very controlled kind of guy, but I know he was upset. He can be very unforgiving about mistakes."

"Oh," was all that Liz could say. And I made a colossal one. I accused him of separating Charles and Jane after he had already found a way to get them together again.

"Yes, especially his own mistakes. He's very hard on himself, sets high expectations. He wouldn't ask an employee to something he wouldn't do himself. Would never scold an employee for something that wasn't the employee's fault."

"Sounds like the perfect employer," commented Jane.

"Yes, and my best friend. That's why I'm concerned. I haven't seen him in a funk like this since, uh ..."

"His sister?" asked Jane. Charles nodded. "I know. He told me the other night. Liz, I assume he told you, too?"

Liz nodded, and Charles whistled softly, "Wow. He doesn't open up easily, and he never tells anyone about that."

"Excuse me," said Liz as she quickly left the room.

"I'm sorry," said a confused Charles. "Did I say something to upset her?"

"It isn't you," replied Jane. "It's her. She and Fitz had a fight yesterday. No, that's not quite right. She picked a fight with Fitz and he had no idea what it was about. But I found out today. And she just found out that she was wrong. It's so stupid. "

"What is?"

"This whole mess. Comedy of errors is an understatement. Liz thinks Fitz sent you home to get you away from me because he doesn't approve of mixing work and romance." Suddenly embarrassed, she added, "Apparently, Fitz thought you were developing an interest in me, but since you were working for my father ..."

Charles reached over and took her hand. "Ah, well, Fitz was right about my interest in you. And, yes, he was concerned about it. He worried that we might be falling under the spell of sea breezes and palm trees and the excitement of being 'on a case' together. He just cautioned me to take things slowly, to wait until we were home and see if we liked each other in our real settings, in our real lives. But he would never have ordered me home. How could she think such a thing?"

"I don't know. I gather that they didn't get off to a great start."

"Oh, God, she did hear him."

"What?"

"That first day, I had hoped she hadn't heard, but obviously she had. Fitz questioned the choice of Liz for the job. He wasn't sure she'd be George's type. She must have thought he was questioning her competence. Add to that the fact that Fitz was a bit nervous at the start of this case, given the situation with this sister. When he's nervous, he's standoffish."

"Which is why she thought him arrogant," added Jane. "On top of the bad start, she is more rattled by George's attack than she'll admit. Throw in her misunderstanding of why you left Nassau, and you're looking at a powder keg."

"What do we do now?"

"Not much to do. You already said everything she didn't want to hear, and it was everything she needed to hear. I'll talk to her before dinner and we'll take it from there. I better go." She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me, too. See you at dinner. Dinner for three or dinner for two?"

"That's up to Liz, OK?"

"Whatever you think best, Jane."

After her abrupt departure from afternoon tea, Liz wandered around the ship trying to sort out her feelings. He must hate me. And he should hate me. How stupid I was. What's one of the first things you learn about being a lawyer-never ask a question in court to which you don't already know the answer. Don't assume. Don't accuse without evidence. Get your facts right. So what did I do? Jump to conclusions, assume facts not in evidence.

Liz walked out on deck to see the ship sail. Everyone around her seemed happy, which only made her feel worse. Packing to go home at the end of a trip always made Liz sad. Since she was already feeling pretty low, she figured that packing would be an appropriate activity for the rest of the afternoon.

On her way to the cabin, Liz walked through the photographer's gallery. She looked for the table picture, thinking it would be nice to have a picture that included Anne and the Captain. She found the picture quickly. Everyone in it was smiling, some more than others. Noticing that several copies had been printed, Liz took one and put the rest back in the rack. Then she saw the picture that had been taken of just her and Fitz. She picked it up, intending to drop it in the box of unwanted pictures, but at the last minute she decided to buy it, too.

Jane was not looking forward to this conversation. She knew that Liz was confused, and not likely to be in a good mood. She slowly opened the cabin door and discovered that Liz's closet and dresser drawers had exploded all over the room. Liz, with her back to the door, was cramming clothes into a suitcase.

"Hey, Liz."

With the back of her hand, Liz furtively wiped away a few tears. She continued to pack, but acknowledged Jane's greeting.

"Hi. Thought I'd get going on my packing. I always hate this part of a vacation."

Grateful for a neutral topic, Jane said, "I know. I won't have much to pack, so I can do it quickly. By the way, you did remember to put aside something to wear off the ship, didn't you? Cruise directors love to tell stories about passengers packing everything and having to leave the ship in their pjs and bare feet."

"In the closet." Liz pointed over her shoulder.

"Good. Can I help?"

"No, I'm managing fine."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"No, it's OK."

Jane found an available corner of her bed and sat down. She saw the folders on the dresser and picked them up.

"Oh, isn't it nice when everyone in a group picture comes out looking good! The Captain has his hand on Anne's shoulder. I wonder if she even knew she reached up to his hand like that. They look like the happily married couple at the table, even more than the Douglas's do. Thirty years ..." Jane trailed off as she thought of Charles and wondered if they could ever reach such a benchmark.

Returning to reality, Jane picked up the other folder and stifled a gasp. Hoping Liz wouldn't notice she had seen the picture, Jane set it down quietly. She wasn't sure what to do next, when Liz spoke.

"I blew it, Jane. I can't believe I was so stupid. He must hate me."

"I don't think he hates you, Liz. I think he's hurt, but he doesn't hate you."

"He has every right to hate me. I was so mean, and he didn't deserve it. But at least he got Charles back here, so something good has happened today. I want you two to have fun tonight. I'll have room service and stay here."

"You're welcome to have dinner with us, Liz. We don't need to be by ourselves."

"I know, but I don't want to be a dark cloud hanging over you. I'm better off here by myself."

"You're sure?" Liz nodded and Jane stood up. Threading her way through the mess, Jane found her way to the bathroom. "All right, then, I'll get ready for dinner."

Jane walked into the Colonel's Corner, where she was to meet Charles for a drink before dinner. He stood up as she approached the table.

"Good evening. You look lovely, Jane. Can I get you a drink?"

A waiter appeared as if by magic, and Jane ordered a daiquiri.

"Liz says the Colonel makes the best daiquiris she's ever had."

"Speaking of Liz ..."

"No, she isn't joining us. She's in the cabin, packing and moping. She thinks he hates her."

"That's interesting. I suspect that Fitz thinks she hates him. Any suggestions?"

"No. They're grownups. They should deal with this for themselves. If they don't come to their senses in a while, we can work on a plot. But at the moment, I'd say they're both too edgy to know how to behave together."

Charles nodded as the waiter set down their drinks. "The best thing we can do is be available as a line of communication. If they won't talk to each other, we can at least tell them about each other. Of course, it will mean that we'll have to spend some time together to organize all of this." They clinked glasses.

"I suppose I can manage to do that."

"Then, of course, if we do have to hatch some sort of plot, we may need several meetings to work it out."

"Goodness!" replied Jane, "How ever will I survive?"

After Jane left the cabin, Liz turned her attention to organizing the paper she had collected during the cruise. She had saved the daily programs and the fax newspapers. She had even saved some stationary and a few wrappers from the pillow chocolates, thinking she'd make a collage out of things from the cruise.

As she sorted papers into piles and put them in date order, she uncovered the folders of pictures from the ship's photographers. One by one, she opened them, remembering when each was taken. She looked at the picture taken on the first formal night, when she had been dancing with Fitz. How long ago that seemed!

Then she opened the last picture, the one of the two of them at dinner the previous night. She had smiled only slightly and looked to one side of the camera. She hadn't realized that, at the last minute, Fitz had looked at her. Tears ran down her face as she stared at his picture. If she had seen that look, would she have continued to be so mean? How could he look at me like that after all I had said? How could he love-

Liz stopped short at the word. The look on Fitz's face was so loving, yet with a hint of pain. Pain that she had caused. Pain that she made worse with that last crack. She had driven him away from the table and away from her.

She looked at the picture and touched his face. "I'm so sorry, Fitz," she whispered.

Jane and Charles were finishing their dessert when Anne stopped by the table. Jane introduced Anne and Charles.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Charles, although I'm sorry that we had to trade Fitz to get you here. Fred told me that Fitz called him last night to make arrangements to disembark in Virginia. I gather he had made up his mind and booked his ticket on line last night. He told Fred he wanted off the ship, at any cost. Said he would have swum home if we had been close enough to land."

Charles shook his head in amazement. "Fitz never loses control. She must really get to him."

"I just hope they sort it out. They seemed so right together." She sighed, "Oh well, I can't fix everything."

"What's that?" asked Jane.

"Fred says I worry too much and if something is beyond my control, I have to tell myself that I can't fix everything. I'm afraid I have to leave fixing Fitz and Liz to you two. So don't let me down. Good night."

Liz heard the knock on her door. "Yes?"

"It's your steward, Ms Bennet."

Liz picked up her room service tray and carried it to the door. She opened the door and held out the tray.

"Oh, thank you, Ms Bennet. I have a package that was left for you." The steward took the tray with one hand and held out a large envelope with the other.

Tactfully ignoring Liz's red-rimmed eyes, the steward said, Good night Ms Bennet. If you need anything, please call."

Liz sat down on the bed and looked at the envelope. It was Fitz's writing. She was afraid to open the letter, imagining the scathing letter she deserved to find. But the envelope had something more than a letter in it, and, in the end, curiosity won out. She opened the envelope.

No letter. Just a small box from a store in Hamilton, Bermuda. She peered inside the envelope. Nothing, just the box. She opened the box and gasped.

Inside the box lay a shiny gold pendant of a Bermuda longtail. Under the necklace, there was a folded piece of paper. Holding her breath, Liz unfolded the paper and read the message.

Dear Liz,

I had hoped to find an appropriate time to give this to you, but that didn't happen. Please keep this in memory of a place that you loved and a day that was beautiful. For me, it was one of the best days of my life.

When I saw this in Hamilton, it made me think of how much you liked the story of the longtails. They fly a long way to find their mates. I would travel 100 times farther if it would bring me to you.

Always,
Fitz

She read the letter three times before she noticed that it was dated that morning. How could he write something like this after all that I did? She put on the necklace. Looking in the mirror, she touched the bird. "What do I do now?" she asked it.

Suddenly, Liz was seized by an irrational impulse. She bolted out of her room and up to the Promenade deck. She ran toward the spot where they had first met. If this were a movie, he'd be here. There'd be wonderful mushy music, and I'd round the corner and he'd be there waiting for me.

But when she rounded the corner nobody was there. He was in New York, and she was standing on deck in the wind, crying.

Chapter 48

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

The Pride sailed up the Hudson River just after dawn. When Liz peeked out the window and saw the fog, she decided to go back to bed. Jane, on the other hand, bounded out of bed, dressed hurriedly, and ran up on deck to meet Charles.

"Charles! Good morning!"

"Good morning to you! Do you want to get some coffee?"

"No, we're about to go under the bridge, and then we'll pass the Statue of Liberty in about five minutes. Come on!" She led Charles to a good vantage point and leaned on the rail.

"Give me your camera."

"Why?"

"Because I want to take a picture."

"It's too foggy to get anything good."

"Just give me the camera."

Jane handed over the camera, and Charles fiddled with it while looking toward the shore. Jane leaned on the rail again, and he turned and snapped her picture. She heard the sound of the camera and turned to see that it was still pointed at her.

"Give me that! Ugh! My hair is all windblown and it's probably frizzy from the fog."

"You look beautiful, Jane." He moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Or maybe I'm just a bit prejudiced."

Jane sighed and leaned in against him.

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

"Liz. She had a good cry last night. When I got back to the cabin, she wasn't there. When she came in, I had just gone to bed. I pretended to be half asleep. You know, too groggy to notice much, but available if she wanted to talk. She clearly didn't want to talk, and so I was very still and appeared to go back to sleep. But until I really did fall asleep, I could hear her sniffling and pulling tissues out of the box."

"It must have been some fight they had. It isn't like Fitz to turn tail and run."

"I think he was afraid to fight back. Afraid he'd say something to make it worse. Maybe he figures if he gives her some time..."

"I don't know. I called him last night and left a message. Actually, I called every number he has and left messages. I suggested he come to the pier this morning to meet her. I don't know if he will, though."

"Fitz? Hello-oo!"

"What?"

"Come away from the window. If you aren't going to tell me what happened on the ship, then stop staring out at the river."

"Sorry, Annie. I know I'm not concentrating very well today."

"We don't have to go through all of this stuff today, Fitz. Forgive my frankness, cuz, but you don't look exactly great this morning."

"Yes, we do have to go through all of this today. I need to get things in order." He stopped when he saw her worried face. "No, Annie, geez, don't look at me like that. I am not trying to get things in order before I do myself in."

"Don't get defensive, Fitz. But that is one of the signs of someone who is getting ready to commit suicide."

"Does your mother know you took all those psych courses?"

"Hey, you should be wishing that I had become a shrink. You look like you could use one."

"Well, dear cousin, it would be nice to get a little TLC. Instead, I have to put up with your 'take-no-prisoners' attitude." He turned back to the window, remembering how he had compared Anne's approach to life to Liz's breezy, yet confident style.

"Fitz?" She walked over to the window and stood next to him. "Why don't you go down to the pier?"

He shook his head and walked back to the chair in front of her desk. "No. That won't help. I just need to tackle one thing on my plate and get it done. I need to do something and have it turn out right."

She shrugged and returned to her desk and the pile of papers on it. As she passed him, she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. Wow, she thought. I haven't seen him like this since that mess with Gina.

Anne picked up a file folder and looked across her desk. "I just want to say one more thing before we get back to work. Obviously, I'm at your disposal for anything to do with the company. But, all joking about psych courses aside, if you need to talk-about anything-I'm here."

"Thanks. But I think work is the best tonic right now."

Liz, Jane, and Charles sat in one of the Pride's lounges, waiting for the ship to clear Customs so that disembarkation could begin. Liz was fidgeting rather than contributing to the conversation. Finally, she couldn't stand it another minute.

"I'm going for a walk. I hate this hanging around stuff."

She went up to the Promenade deck. The few passengers that were out on deck were waving to waiting friends on the pier. Liz scanned the crowd hopefully, but she didn't see anyone she knew. Slowly, she walked the length of the ship.

Now that Liz was back in New York, it was hard to remember the feel of a sandy beach beneath her feet and the tropical sea breeze in her hair. She saw pigeons at the end of the pier and fingered her necklace as she tried to picture graceful seabirds instead.

At last disembarkation was announced. Liz made her way back to Jane and Charles and they joined the line of people leaving the ship. The security officer scanned their boarding passes one last time, removing them from the system to make way for the next batch of passengers.

They found their luggage on the pier, flagged down a porter, and walked through Customs. Once through the door, they passed a crowd of friends, family, and limo drivers, waiting to collect suntanned passengers and take them home. Liz scanned the faces, but didn't find the one she wanted to see. Behind her, Charles and Jane exchanged glances and sighed.

Chapter 49

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

One month later

Liz and Jane sat at an outside table of a small coffee shop near Liz's office. The morning was warm, promising a hot day.

"You could call him, Liz." Jane leaned forward in her seat and rested her elbows on the little table.

"No. I wrote to him and apologized. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have called. Anyhow, he's still out of town." She picked at her black-and-white cookie.

"I know. Charles still doesn't know exactly why Fitz is supervising that case himself. He could have sent someone else to Dallas. The two of them talk on the phone and email back and forth. Charles tells him about things we've done, movies, restaurants, you know. But Fitz doesn't seem very interested."

"He doesn't want to hear about me. He doesn't want to think about me. And staying in Dallas is a good way to keep from having to see me. He must figure that you two are plotting some sort of reunion."

"We're not plotting anything! Maybe Fitz isn't avoiding you. Maybe his case is tricky, tougher than it seems."

Liz touched the longtail pendant and shook her head. "If he was looking for a reason to call, he could have acknowledged my letter. I thanked him for his gift and apologized. I don't blame him, Jane. I deserve to be ignored."

"I still think there's a reasonable explanation."

"Oh, Jane, always eager to see things in the best light." The straw made a gurgling noise as Liz reached the bottom of her iced coffee. "Well, time for work, I'm afraid. Say hello to Charles for me."

Jane watched Liz walk away, briefcase in hand. The confident stride was an act, Jane knew. Inside, Liz was slinking off to hide in her office.

"Liz!" Mr. Lucas's secretary stopped her in the hallway. "Mr. Lucas wants to see you in his office at your convenience this morning."

"Did he say what it's about?"

"No, but he didn't look upset or anything, if that's what you're wondering."

"I'll find out soon enough, I suppose. Thanks, Peg."

Liz set her briefcase down beside her desk, took a quick look at her hair and makeup in the mirror she kept in the top drawer, and went in search of her boss.

Peg announced her and she was shown into his spacious office. Walnut paneling and leather furniture gave the room a look of distinction, which wealthy clients found comforting. Mr. Lucas waved Liz to a chair.

"Well, young lady, I have just received the formal report from Darcy Associates. I'll forward it to Mr. Gardiner along with your own report. I'm proud of you, Liz. You represented the firm well. Mr. Darcy is very complimentary, praising your professionalism under difficult circumstances."

Liz blushed. I don't understand, Fitz. Why did you take the trouble to say nice things about me in the report, but not call me?

"Don't look so modest young lady. You've done well. Mr. Gardiner informs me that he will pick up the cost of your trip back to Nassau to testify, and he insists that I give you a bonus as well. So, here you are. Well done, Liz!" He reached across the desk and handed Liz an envelope.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"You earned it." He stood up and walked around his desk. He shook Liz's hand and smiled. "I'd give you the day off, too, but I know you have a court case coming up and your desk is pretty full. So back to work with you!"

"Thank you!" Liz smiled and left. She walked calmly back to her office, then shut the door and ripped open the envelope. Inside she found a very generous check. Clamping her hand over her mouth to avoid screaming, she ran to the phone.

The next day, Liz was reviewing documents for her upcoming court case when her phone rang. Jane was in the lobby.

"Yikes! I lost track of time. I'll be right down."

As Liz walked into the lobby, Jane ran over to give her a hug.

"Congratulations, on the bonus, Liz!"

"Thanks. Come on, let's collect your boyfriend and the three of us can celebrate. Lunch is on me. After all, it was your father who recommended the bonus."

They took a taxi to the office building where Darcy Associates was located. When they didn't see Charles waiting in the lobby, they called up to the office. Charles was delayed, so the receptionist had the two women sent upstairs to wait in comfort.

In contrast to the very traditional look of the offices at Liz's firm, the offices of Darcy Associates were very modern in décor. The look said, "If it's high-tech, we've got it." Considering that they did most of their business in corporate security, it gave them a good image. Jane smiled at the receptionist, Doris, who looked happy to see Jane.

"Hello, Ms Gardiner. He'll be about fifteen minutes. Why don't you wait in here?" She led them to a door and opened it. Liz walked in first, and Jane turned to wink at Doris, who smiled back.

Doris closed the door. Jane, who had set this up in the hope that seeing where Fitz worked would stimulate some sort of feeling in Liz, was nearly run over when Liz turned to leave the room.

"Jane! We shouldn't be in here! This is Fitz's office!"

"It's all right, Liz, he isn't here, remember?"

"Under the circumstances, I feel like an intruder."

"How do you know it's Fitz's office? He doesn't have his name on the door."

"The picture of him with his cousin and his sister. I saw that picture at his aunt's house in Bermuda." Liz pointed to a framed photograph on the table behind the desk. Next to it were other photographs, including one of his aunt and uncle with a couple she guessed were Fitz's parents. Then she spied a folder from the Pride. Curious, she walked to the table and picked it up.

"Oh my God!" she whispered. "It's my portrait. The one I assumed George bought. But he said they didn't find it in George's cabin."

She turned to Jane, "Look! He had it all the time. Why didn't he tell me?"

"I think that's obvious, Liz. He had warned Charles about the work-romance problem, remember? I'm sure he held himself to the same rule. My guess is that he figured things would work out between you after Wickham was locked up and you weren't officially working together."

Liz sighed and put the photograph back where she had found it. As she turned back toward Jane, she noticed the pile of mail on Fitz's desk. Rather far down the pile, she spotted familiar stationary. Without thinking, she reached out and removed the letter from the pile.

"Liz! What are you doing? You can't go through his mail!"

"My letter." Liz held it up. "Jane, he never got it."

"What?"

"The letter I wrote the last night on the ship. I mailed it in the drop on board, thinking it would go out with the ship's mail, but the last postmark is two weeks later than that. I must have missed the pickup, and then they couldn't mail it until they were back in the US." She paused to consider the implications of this and then wailed, "Jane, this is awful!"

"Why? It shows he isn't ignoring your attempt to contact him. He didn't call because he didn't know you'd apologized."

"But he must think I'm so ungrateful. He gave me this lovely gift and as far as he knows, I didn't even thank him for it. If he didn't hate me before, he must really hate me now."

"We can fix this, Liz. I'll ask Charles to forward it to him in Dallas."

The door opened, and a voice asked, "Forward what to whom?"

"Charles!" Jane jumped up and ran to give him a kiss. "Liz's letter to Fitz. It went astray and she noticed it on his desk. You can send it to him!"

Fitz dropped the key on the desk and flopped onto the bed. It had been a long day after yet another night of tossing and turning. It's been a month. What is wrong with me? It was a foolish mistake to get involved on a case. Why can't I just let this go? He groaned softly as he noticed the flashing message light on the phone.

He listened to the message, then called the front desk.

"This is Mr. Darcy in 1192. I understand there's a package for me?"

"Yes, sir. Shall I have it sent up?"

"Thank you very much."

The package was a large padded envelope from the New York office. Fitz tipped the bellman and closed the door. He dumped the contents of the envelope onto the bed.

He laughed at the snapshot of his empty office, which someone had captioned "Wish you were here!" He set aside a thick envelope that Charles had marked "Staff Evaluations." He flipped through a mail-order catalogue with dog-eared corners. Scribbled across the front of the catalogue was "Gina's birthday" and his secretary's initials. Subtle reminder, he thought, wondering if Gina had been dropping hints.

Then he came to a thin envelope, bearing the Austen logo. Attached to it was a note from Charles that read, "Seems this got misdirected. Thought you might like to see it ASAP." Fitz recognized the writing. He looked at the postmark, actually postmarks, as it had been canceled twice. Once, the day after the cruise ended, and then again two weeks later. Curious, he opened the letter.

Dear Fitz,

Please forgive the messy writing, but it's windy here on deck. I'm sitting on Promenade Deck, near the spot where we first met. Do you remember? It seems so long ago-hard to believe that it has been just a bit more than a week. Harder still to believe that I could cram so many mistakes into such a short time.

I know that there is nothing I can do to make up for my horrible behavior. I can't find words that express how sorry I am. If I could take it all back-but of course I can't. I am ashamed that I accused you of breaking up Charles and Jane, especially when you had already done your best to get them together again. You must think I'm an idiot!

I have always prided myself on being rational and logical, but yesterday I was neither. I wondered why you didn't try to defend yourself against my ridiculous accusations. Looking back, I realize I didn't give you much of a chance.

You did not deserve to be treated so cruelly. Yet despite all the hateful things I said and did, you gave me this lovely necklace, which I am wearing as I sit here. I don't deserve such a gift, but I will treasure it always.

Liz

Fitz reached for his briefcase. He found what he was looking for in an inner pocket. He opened the folder and stared at the photograph. He hadn't looked at it in three days, which was a record. How many times had he sworn that he would never look at it again? This time, instead of putting the photograph back into his briefcase, he stood it on the bedside table.

He ordered room service, checked his office voicemail, and then settled in to catch up on a day's worth of emails. Every so often he looked over at the photograph and wondered if Liz would ever smile up at him like that again. Then he would return to his work, looking forward to the day when he could wrap up this project and be able to return to New York.

Chapter 50

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

Liz walked into the office kitchen and reached for the pot of coffee. "No, better stick to decaf today," she said to herself.

"Talking to yourself, Liz?" asked Mr. Lucas.

"Oh," she laughed. "You'd talk to yourself, too if you had to deal with that dingbat. Normally, on a Monday, I would have regular coffee. But I'm drinking decaf this morning because I can't take Lydia Phillips and caffeine in the same morning! She's supposed to be here in a half-hour. I hope I do better with her this time. I feel as if I'm letting the prosecutor in Nassau down. If I can't get Lydia prepped, he'll never be able to use her as a witness."

"Yes, I know you had a difficult session with the girl last week. I have an idea that may help. I hope you don't mind that I didn't speak to you first, but I just thought of it this morning."

"Anything that will help is welcome."

"Good. The help should be in your office any minute."

Curious, Liz followed her boss down the hall. They passed the receptionist, who was returning to her desk. She smiled at Liz and patted her chest in a heart-throbbing gesture. Mr. Lucas laughed.

Liz was about to ask what was going on, when they reached the door to her office. Mr. Lucas opened the door for Liz. She entered her office and almost dropped her mug of coffee.

Fitz stood up and turned to shake her hand, then Mr. Lucas's. She noticed that his hand was cold. Odd, his hands were usually so warm...No! Don't go remembering things like that!

Fitz noticed that Liz met his eyes for only a second as she shook his hand. She seemed surprised to see him. Mr. Lucas had said it was a "last-minute brainstorm" so perhaps she hadn't known he was going to be there. But she's wearing the pendant. I wonder if...no, don't read anything into it. She just likes the necklace, that's all.

Liz sat behind her desk, and Fitz and Mr. Lucas sat in the chairs facing her. Mr. Lucas explained the situation.

"So, it seems that Miss Phillips is having trouble with the idea of testifying against Wickham. Liz has taken her through all of the prosecutor's questions time and again, but she doesn't concentrate, and she refuses to say anything that might incriminate George."

"Unbelievable," commented Fitz. "After all that he has done, she still believes in him."

"Well," said Liz, "She doesn't know everything. She refuses to believe anything I say because she's convinced I'm jealous over George. I have tried to stick to the facts of her case and not go into anything else George has done."

"Right, so Mr. Darcy, this is where you come in. We need you to be the voice of reality and tell her about the real George Wickham. Liz, do you have your pictures?" She nodded and handed them to Fitz. "Mr. Darcy, I understand that you have some pictures, too?"

Before he could answer, Lydia Phillips was announced and shown into Liz's office. Mr. Lucas greeted her, then left.

Liz began by taking Lydia through the events of her acquaintance with George Wickham. Lydia soon became bored and started to complain.

"This is so mean of you, Ms Bennet. Just because George didn't want you, you're trying to railroad him."

"Hardly, Miss Phillips. I-"

"Excuse me, Ms Bennet," interrupted Fitz. "But this has gone on long enough. Miss Phillips, I have known George Wickham for a long time, and I can assure you he had no genuine feelings for you or for Ms Bennet. He seduced you, as he has others-"

"He didn't love the others. He told me. He said that he loved me!"

"Really? What about the jewelry he stole from you?"

"He would have given it back. He just borrowed it."

"Borrowed? Did you know he was going to take it?" asked Liz, looking at her notes.

"Um, well, uh, no. But I'm sure he would have returned it."

"And I'm sure he would not have returned it," said Fitz. He put a photograph on the desk in front of Lydia. "Do you recognize this?"

"It's Gran's bracelet."

"He gave this bracelet to Ms Bennet, hoping she would show her, um, gratitude." Fitz winced at that last word.

"Maybe he wanted her gratitude, as you put it," retorted Lydia, "But he didn't want her love. He loves me."

"Well, I'm certainly willing to believe he didn't love Ms Bennet." Fitz threw several Polaroids on the desk. "This is what he did to Ms Bennet when the police came to arrest him. He tried to use her as a hostage so that he could get away."

"George wouldn't do that."

Fitz was losing patience. "Miss Phillips, I saw the whole thing, as did several police officers. We aren't making this up. Those bruises are real." He could see that she was weakening. He threw more Polaroids on the desk. Liz gasped and then looked up at Fitz. His face was a mask, but she knew how much this was costing him inside.

"Who is that?" asked Lydia timidly.

"That, Miss Phillips, is a fifteen-year-old girl he tried to seduce. And when she said 'no,' he tried to force himself on her. The marks on her neck are from a necklace he grabbed. When the chain broke, it dug into her neck. This happened several years ago. He still had the locket he tore from the chain. If he loved you, why did he keep a souvenir from another woman?"

Lydia chewed her bottom lip as she studied the photographs in front of her. Fitz waited to let the images sink in. Then he continued.

"I think you can see, Miss Phillips, that George Wickham, however charming he may pretend to be, is not a nice man. He is a thief, a con man, a seducer, and who knows what else. He did not love Ms Bennet. He did not love that young girl. He did not love you."

"B*****d!" muttered Lydia. "He was so convincing."

"I know," said Liz sympathetically.

Fitz continued in his "bad cop" role. "So, Miss Phillips, here is what you are going to do. You are going to go home and write out everything that happened with Wickham. Don't embroider, don't exaggerate. Don't skip anything, either. The next time you come to see Ms Bennet, you will have your account of the events with you, and you will be ready to discuss them. Is that understood?"

Lydia nodded. Fitz looked at Liz and shrugged. Liz, still stunned by Fitz's performance, stood up.

"Thank you for coming today, Miss Phillips. Let me show you out." Over her shoulder she asked Fitz, "Can you wait a minute? I'll be right back."

After getting rid of Lydia, Liz returned to her office. She paused outside the door, took a deep breath, and entered.

"Well, now you've met Lydia Phillips." She collapsed into her desk chair. "Good job, by the way. Too bad you didn't stay in the Navy. You would have made an excellent commanding officer."

"Thank you. But what a ditz that kid is! It wasn't hard to intimidate her. I've met the type before. She won't take another woman's opinions seriously, but she'll listen to anything a man says." He shook his head, "Wickham can pick them, that's for sure." He caught his breath. Gah! He picked Liz, too, you fool!

Liz did not take the comment personally, and Fitz relaxed. Suddenly the tension of the morning got to Liz and she started to giggle. Fitz raised his eyebrows as if to say "What?"

"I just thought of the perfect punishment for George. Lock him up with Lydia and throw away the key." Her laughter was contagious, and the thought of just desserts for both George and Lydia was too much for Fitz. He laughed heartily.

Recovering, he sighed, "It feels good to laugh. I, um, haven't laughed much..."

"You, too?"

He nodded. They looked at each other, afraid to look away, yet afraid to keep staring. Finally Fitz broke the silence.

"Liz, I, um, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I didn't hear from you, so I figured you must truly hate me for leaving you that day on the island. I received your letter only recently. Apparently it was misrouted and Charles found it in my office and sent it to me in Dallas. I've only been home for two days."

"I know about the delay with the letter. But I'm confused. Why would I hate you for leaving me on the island? I knew you had to go to Nassau with George and the police. That was the plan all along."

"I know, but it was the only reason I could think of for you to be so upset. I had no idea that you thought I broke up Charles and Jane. I felt guilty about leaving you after George had attacked you, so when you were angry with me, I assumed it was because I left you there. Or because I didn't rush George and rescue you."

"Oh, no. I would have liked you to stay with me, but I understood that you couldn't. And I wasn't at all disappointed that you didn't charge at George. In a way you did rescue me. You were so calm-"

"Not inside!"

"Maybe not inside, but you looked and sounded calm. That kept me from panicking. I felt as if you were willing me to stay calm and under control. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done." She looked down, and added quietly, "I never thanked you for that. So let me thank you now."

Fitz got up and walked to Liz's side of the desk. He took her hands in his and pulled her up so that she was standing in front of him. Gently, he took her chin in his hand and raised her face.

"Liz, is there a chance, can we start over?"

"I'd like that," she whispered.

"Maybe while Lydia Phillips is home trying to remember the details of her past, we could try to forget our past?"

Liz smiled, "Let's forget the bad details, anyhow. There were some nice ones, as I recall." She touched the longtail pendant, "Like Bermuda."

He smiled. He wanted to take her in his arms and start planning all the details of their future. But he knew he had to take things slowly. Don't blow this chance. There may not be another. If she really is THE ONE, as Charles would say, I have to get this right.

"Yes, there were some very nice details." He paused, then went on, "So, if we're starting over, could we start now? Maybe with lunch?"

"That would be wonderful."

Jane was ready when Charles picked her up to take her to dinner. He arrived five minutes early and couldn't wait to tell her the news.

"Fitz is home! And he seems in better spirits. I think I can talk him into drinks after work on Friday. Can you get Liz to come?"

"I think so. I'll call her tomorrow and ask."

"We'll have to make it sound low-key. I don't want to make them suspicious."

Jane nodded, "And we should pick somewhere fairly quiet, so that they'll have to behave themselves. Has he said anything about Liz?"

"No. I don't want to bring it up. Whatever has improved his outlook, I don't want to mess with it. How's Liz?"

"She's better since she found out about the letter. A bit edgy because he hasn't called her."

"See, that's why they need us! Are you ready to go, Jane? I'm hungry, and I plot much better when I've had something to eat!"

Liz reached for the ringing phone on her desk. "Liz Bennet"

"Ms Bennet, good afternoon. I need a lawyer. I went on a cruise recently, and I lost something very valuable."

"And what was that, sir?" She kept her tone of voice professional, grateful that the caller couldn't see the silly smile on her face.

"Well, it's a rather delicate subject."

"I'm a professional, sir, you can tell me."

"It seems I lost my heart and this beautiful woman in red stole it."

She couldn't suppress a giggle any longer. Clearing her throat she said, "Well, perhaps if you asked, she would give it back to you."

"Interesting suggestion. What if I asked for something in return instead?"

Silence.

"Ms Bennet, are you there?"

"Yes, um, just taking some notes on your case. May I ask what you would request in return?"

"Her company at a movie tonight."

"My goodness, sir, that seems a small thing in return for something so precious as your heart."

Fitz had to muffle a gasp as he heard her refer to his heart as precious. "Let's consider it the first installment, then. I'll work my way up to bigger things."

Silence. Liz was wondering about the bigger things.

"Liz? Are you there? How about it? I'll let you pick the movie. Come on, you did homework last night."

"Fitz, I'm a very busy and important lawyer."

"Yes, yes, I know. You work hard. But your brain needs to rest now and then. We'll pick a comedy. No thinking required, I promise."

"Oh, all right. But it has to be fairly early."

"You have a curfew?"

"Not exactly, but it makes the client nervous when the lawyer sits in the courtroom yawning her head off!"

"Knock, knock."

"Charles! Come in. How is your lovely Miss Jane?"

"She truly is an angel. I was right, Fitz. She is THE ONE." Fitz said nothing, which surprised Charles. "What? No smart remark?"

"No. I agree. She is the one for you. You're very lucky."

"You know, she has this friend-"

"Don't, Charles."

"All right, all right. Listen, Jane has been taking your place as a Friday after-work drinks partner. But I told her that this Friday I might be going out for a drink with you. How about it? Go back to our old routine while I'm still single?"

Fitz's eyebrows shot up.

"No, I haven't asked her yet. I'm still building up my courage. But I don't expect to have a lot of Friday nights free in the future, so you should take me up on my offer."

"Why not? Sounds like a good idea."

About five minutes after she finished talking to Fitz, Liz's phone rang again.

"Liz Bennet."

"Hi Liz! How are you."

"Hi Jane, I'm swamped. I'm in the middle of a case and I'm struggling to prep your dizzy cousin for her testimony next month. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Are we on for our usual Friday evening drink?"

Liz paused, wondering if Fitz would ask her out. "Um, I think so."

"Oh, Liz you can't be so busy that you can't come for a drink."

"I can't promise, but I'll try."

"Great! I'll let you know when and where."

Liz dropped her briefcase in her office. She had spent most of the day in court and dreaded digging through her messages. She played back her voice mail, amused by one message in particular.

"Hello, Ms Bennet, I need a lawyer. I have this fantasy of having dinner with a beautiful lawyer, and you're the only one who can help me. So call me!"

She dialed the number he left. Reaching his voice mail, she decided to play phone tag in the same vein.

"Hello, Mr. Darcy. If you are having fantasies about lawyers, I suspect that you need a doctor, not a lawyer. If you call me back, perhaps I can recommend a good shrink."

Not two minutes later, her phone rang.

"Liz Bennet."

"Ms Bennet, I do not want a doctor. I want dinner."

"Then perhaps what you need is a chef." Liz laughed, amazed at how, after one lunch, one pizza, and one movie, they had fallen back into the easy banter they had enjoyed on their good days on the cruise.

"My apartment has an excellent kitchen," he said suggestively.

"I can't. I'm exhausted tonight, and-"

"Tomorrow, then. Seriously, my sister will be in town and I'd love for you to meet her."

"I guess we could do it, if you don't mind being a bit late. I'm meeting Jane and Charles for a drink."

"What?"

"Jane and Charles and I have been meeting for a drink on Fridays. Jane said 'our usual drink' so I assume Charles is coming."

"Does Jane know we've seen each other?"

"No, I didn't have time to answer the zillion questions she would ask, so I haven't mentioned it. Does Charles know?"

"No. It's funny, because he has dropped hints about you, but I haven't wanted to talk about us yet. I don't know why, afraid of jinxing things, maybe."

"Fitz, where are you meeting Charles?"

"I don't know. He's supposed to tell me tomorrow."

"Mmm, Jane is supposed to tell me tomorrow, too. You know what?"

"Yeah, we're being set up."

Chapter 51

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

"Knock, knock."

"Fitz! You've got your briefcase. Are you leaving already?"

"Yes, I'm leaving early, but I'll still meet you for that drink."

"Fine, see you at Commune, 6:00."

"Right." Fitz started to leave, then turned back. "Oh, by the way. I'm bringing someone. I hope that's OK."

Chuckling to himself, Fitz left Charles sitting at his desk, open-mouthed."

"Hello."

"Hello, Jane. It's Liz. I just wanted to check on the time for tonight."

"I thought 6:00 at Commune. How is that?"

"Fine. I hope you don't mind, but I may have to leave early. I have a date and he'll meet me there. Gotta call him now, see you tonight!"

Charles sat at his desk and frowned. His worries were interrupted by the ringing of his telephone.

"Bingley."

"Charles! We have a problem. Liz has a date tonight."

He groaned, "Oh, no. Fitz does, too. He just told me he's bringing someone. So is Liz not coming?"

"It's worse than that. Her date is meeting her at the bar."

"Well, there's nothing we can do now. Let's just hope nobody throws anything!"

Fitz and Liz arrived at the bar at 5:30. It was beginning to get crowded, but they managed to find a table.

"Here they come!" Liz ran to the Ladies' Room.

"Fitz! You're early!"

"So are you. How are you, Jane? Charles didn't tell me you were coming."

"I'm fine," she replied, eyeing the extra drink on the table.

Fitz followed her line of sight. He pointed to the drink. "My date is in the Ladies'. She'll be right back."

"Oh."

Jane sat down and Charles went to the bar to order drinks. When he returned, Fitz's date still hadn't come back to the table. Charles looked at Jane nervously. She shrugged.

"Um, Fitz, this is awkward," began Charles. "But we invited someone else tonight."

"Oh, really? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, we didn't know, um, that is, uh..."

"Charles, is this a set-up? You know I don't need a blind date, particularly not with some desperate-"

"Hi Jane!" Liz appeared out of nowhere and hugged her friend. "Hi Charles. You're early. Hello Fitz, who's desperate?" She took the remaining seat at the table.

"Um," Fitz pretended to be embarrassed. "Liz, it seems that Charles and Jane invited someone to meet me."

"Oh." She turned to Jane, "So, is she anyone I know?" Liz looked around the table and counted.

"What are you doing?" asked Fitz.

"Well, there are four of us now. So if they invited a blind date for you, then they probably found some loser for me, too. Oh, man, I HATE blind dates!"

"So do I! I was just telling Charles that when you arrived." Fitz and Liz launched into a tirade against the practice of friends setting up friends with dates. Liz took a sip of her drink and Jane gasped.

"Jane, is something wrong?"

"But that drink is Fitz's, um..."

"No, that's my drink. Fitz has his in his hand. Whatever is the matter?"

Jane and Charles stared, stunned into silence. Finally, Charles spoke up.

"Wait a minute! What is going on?"

"Going on?" echoed Liz innocently.

"All this talk about hating blind dates and Fitz's date being in the Ladies'. You two knew all along we were setting you up! But how?"

Fitz laughed, "I'm a private investigator, Charles. I can find out anything!"

"You better not be tapping my phone!"

"No, Liz and I figured it out when we compared notes on you two. Sorry, but this was irresistible. We both hate set-ups, and wanted to teach you a lesson. Plus we were doing just fine without your help." He smiled at Liz.

"When? How? How long?" sputtered Jane.

Fitz laughed. "Monday. At a meeting in Liz's office-dealing with your moronic cousin, whose behavior is excusable only because it brought Liz and me together again. And I guess the answer to the third question is since Monday-one lunch, pizza and a movie, and now tonight. So that makes this..."

"...our third date," Liz chimed in.

"That's right!" exclaimed Fitz. "Hey! You know what they say about third dates. Statistically, it's when most couples-"

Liz interrupted him with a laugh. "Now, Fitz, that's just an average figure. Mathematically, every easy first-date girl must be balanced by a holdout."

Charles shook his head. "You two are scary, do you know that?"

Fitz laughed. "No, what we are is late. We have to run, we're meeting Gina for dinner." As he stood, he looked at Charles, "You took statistics in B-school, right? You'll have to explain this balancing averages thing to me sometime."

"Come, on, Fitz, time to go before you embarrass everyone." She dragged him from the table.

"What?"

"Oh, come on," she hissed. "Don't try to tell me you weren't going to ask them what number date they're on!"

It is a city truth universally acknowledged that you can't find a taxi in the rain or when you're running late. But luck was on their side this night, as Liz and Fitz found a cab. With help from a string of green lights, they reached the restaurant in time.

A minute after they walked into the restaurant, Gina arrived. Liz would not have identified her as Fitz's sister if she hadn't seen family pictures. Gina was as fair as Fitz was dark. But when Fitz introduced the two women, Liz saw the trademark Darcy dimple in Gina's smile.

They were shown to a table and set about getting acquainted. Over dessert, they discussed cruises in general and the Pride in particular. Gina vaguely remembered Captain Wentworth, but had never met Anne Eliot.

"We should set up a pool," suggested Liz. "You, me, Jane, maybe Charles, too. We've all seen Anne and Captain Wentworth together. Whoever guesses when they'll get married wins a prize or something."

"Still matchmaking, Liz?"

"Even the Cruise Director noticed. The crew is placing bets, why shouldn't we?"

Fitz shrugged. "OK, my bet is Valentine's Day. That's romantic. I can see them getting married on the Bridge with the beeping of the radar instead of the Wedding March..."

"Euww, Fitz, that's horrible!" exclaimed Gina. "Since the ship goes to so many places, they should find a romantic little chapel in a remote port."

"Romantic little chapel. I'll remind you of that when you want me to pay for a humongous wedding for you. And Liz is a lawyer, so she'll be a reliable witness!"

"They could get married in Bermuda," suggested Liz. "The Bermuda website says so."

Fitz was curious about this turn in the conversation. "You looked it up?"

"Not that specifically, no. But I was surfing one evening, and I was thinking how nice it would be to go back there, so I looked up their website, and found a whole section about it."

"Isn't Bermuda wonderful?" gushed Gina. "I've been noticing your necklace. Did you get that when you were in Bermuda?"

"Yes it's from Bermuda. I wear it often. It reminds me of what a lovely day I had there."

Gina nodded, "Bermuda is one of my favorite places. Even though I've been there often, it still is special to me."

"Yes, it's special to me, too. I fell in love there."

"Everyone falls in love with Bermuda!" agreed Gina, not quite understanding what Liz had said. For several minutes, she rambled on about how much she loved the beaches and the gardens...

Fitz stopped listening. He held his breath as he looked at Liz. Had she just said what he thought he heard?

Listening to Gina and looking at Fitz, Liz smiled. She turned back to Gina, and nodded at something the girl had said. She slipped off one shoe and slid her foot up Fitz's ankle. Fitz's eyes widened. Liz continued to smile. Gina continued to talk, but by now she was the only one listening.

Gina's travelogue on the wonders of Bermuda was interrupted by her cell phone.

"Excuse me." She pushed a button on the phone and looked at the display. "Kevin! How are you? Really? I'm just about done with dinner. I'll grab a cab and meet you. Bye!" She looked at her brother, "Some of my friends are getting together. I'm sure you won't mind if I leave you two on your own."

Fitz stood up and Gina hugged him. She quickly slid her hands down the front of his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking your pockets for little square boxes," she whispered through a giggle. "She's THE ONE, all right. In case you're wondering, I'll probably be out late." She gave him an exaggerated wink and was gone.

After Gina left, Liz looked at Fitz's red face. "What was that all about?"

"Private joke. I'll tell you someday, but not quite yet. Um, Liz, did you mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"Bermuda. That you fell in love there."

"Oh, yes, your uncle is adorable, too bad he's-" she broke off when she saw the serious look on Fitz's face. She reached across the table for his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke about this. It's just that it's scary, you know?"

He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "Believe me, I know. Would you like to go back to Bermuda? If you can get some extra time off, we could go back there after the trial. Maybe fall in love again?"

"Fitz, are you planning to rely on the spell of sea breezes and palm trees?"

"I'll take all the help I can get."

Liz smiled mischievously, "If I tell you that you don't need any help, can we still go to Bermuda?"

Chapter 52

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

two weeks later

Fitz grabbed Liz's hand as she walked by the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled into his arms and sighed.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Mmm."

"Poor thing, you're all worn out from cooking. You didn't have to clean up, I would have done it after you left."

"No, I promised to cook dinner for you after all the nights you've taken me out. And cleaning up is part of the deal. You have a great kitchen. It was a pleasure."

"Well, such an extraordinary chef deserves a present." He reached over the arm of the sofa and handed Liz a small shopping bag. She rifled through the tissue paper and gasped.

"Fitz! I cannot possibly wear this!"

"Don't you like the color?"

"The color is not the issue, and you know it." She held up the very tiny bikini. "It's way too small. I couldn't go out on a public beach in this!"

"You could model it for me in private then," he said suggestively.

"Fitz!" she retorted in a shocked tone of voice.

Laughing, he pulled her closer to him. He murmured into her ear, "You'd look lovely in it, I'm sure. Don't you want to try it on?" He kissed her ear, then worked his way along her jaw. Liz started to giggle, and he stifled the laughter with a kiss.

They were agreeably occupied for several minutes. Then they heard the sound of a key in the lock. Gina walked in as they looked up toward the door.

"Don't mind me," she laughed.

"We don't," they replied in unison.

Gina walked toward the coffee table and picked up the top of the bikini. She raised one eyebrow and pretended to be confused.

"Fabric swatches? What room are you redecorating, Fitz?" She dropped the garment on the table, and left the room, laughing.

Fitz pouted, "Nobody likes my gift for you."

"Awww, poor baby. Maybe I can think of a way to cheer you up." And she did.

Liz stood in the office kitchen, entertaining one of the paralegals with the story of the genuinely tiny bikini, when her assistant arrived.

"Liz, long distance call for you from the Bahamas."

"Must be someone from the prosecutor's office. I'd better go."

As she left the kitchen, the paralegal called out, "Ask about beaches where you can wear that bikini!"

Liz grabbed the phone as she dropped into her desk chair.

"Liz Bennet."

"Hello, Ms Bennet. Paul Robinet here."

"Hello, Mr. Robinet. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. As you probably can guess, I'm calling about the Wickham case."

"Yes?"

"Well, it's good news for me, but bad news for you."

"That sounds ominous. I guess I want to hear the good news first."

"Actually, it's the same news, but it affects us in different ways. The good news is that I don't have to take this to trial. The bad news, for you, is that you just lost out on a junket to the Bahamas."

"What happened?"

"Wickham changed his plea. At first, you know, he thought we couldn't even try him. He didn't understand a crime committed on any one of the islands that make up the Bahamas would be tried here. Then, he was convinced that Lydia would never testify. So we let him read the transcript."

"And that changed his mind?"

"Not all by itself, no. He was sure it was a fake. So I played the tape you made. When he heard her clearly explain what happened, he knew she'd play well before a jury. He also was shocked to find out just how young she was at the time. He really thought she was of age-or so he claims."

"So he folded?"

"Like a tent that's missing a pole. I will notify your office in writing, of course, but I thought I'd let you know as soon as possible so that you could cancel your travel arrangements."

"Stupid Fitz," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, just grumbling. It was Mr. Darcy's idea to tape the deposition, which made George change his plea. And now we don't get to go to Nassau."

"Sounds like he owes you big time."

"Sure does. Thanks for letting me know what's happening. I won't tell Miss Phillips or her family until we get the official notification in writing."

"Thanks for your help on this case, Ms Bennet. And please thank Mr. Darcy for me, too. And don't be too hard on him. He was very concerned about you the day after the arrest. I'm sure he'll be sorry you're going to miss your trip."

"All right. Goodbye, Mr. Robinet."

"Goodbye, Ms. Bennet."

Liz stared at the phone for a minute, then picked it up and dialed Fitz's number. When she got voice mail, she said, "Hey, Fitz, we're not going to Nassau, and it's all your fault! So you can take that bikini-"

"Liz!" Fitz grabbed the phone. "Give me that, again?"

"The tape, which you so brilliantly suggested we make, convinced George to plead guilty. Hence, no trial. Hence, no trip to Nassau. Hence, no opportunity to wear the bikini."

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Dinner and a video? I'll let you choose. I'll even watch Bridget AGAIN."

"Dinner and a movie in return for losing a trip to the Bahamas? That doesn't sound equitable."

"We can negotiate payback over dinner. My place?"

Looking at the stacks of files on her desk, Liz sighed, "All right. I have to get back to work

Fitz answered the door and invited a pouting Liz into his apartment.

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded. He moved to put his arms around her, but she ducked under them, saying, "No you don't. I'm mad at you, you know."

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the kitchen. He opened the freezer and took out a carton of ice cream and set it on the counter next to a bottle of merlot. Also on the counter were take-out menus from some of their favorite sources of comfort food.

"So, where do we start? Some wine, or do you want to jump right to the chocolate?"

Liz picked up the container of Godiva Dark Belgian Chocolate ice cream. She put it in the freezer, and pointed to the bottle.

"Wine first. Knowing the ice cream is in there will give me something to live for." She leaned against the counter and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead in what she hoped would look like a dramatic gesture. As she stood there, head thrown back, eyes closed, she heard the refrigerator door open. There were a few clinking noises, then the door closed. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened her eyes.

Grinning, Fitz offered her a jar of mustard.

"What is that for?"

"It's traditional to serve mustard with ham!"

"Nobody appreciates true talent! You don't know how I suffer!" She flounced out of the room and flung herself on the sofa.

Fitz opened the wine, poured two glasses, and carried them into the living room.

"So," he said, "Are we over our little hissy-fit yet?"

Liz sat up and frowned thoughtfully. "You know, if you weren't so damned handsome, it would be a lot easier to be mad at you."

She accepted a glass of wine and he sat next to her. They clinked glasses and sipped the wine.

"I am sorry that you don't get your junket to Nassau. But I am pleased to know that it's over and George is definitely going to do time."

"I know. I guess it really is for the best. God, I hate that expression. But it is true this time. At least nobody has to relive any of his antics in a courtroom."

"That's my brave girl!" Fitz leaned over and kissed Liz on the tip of her nose. "And brave girls deserve presents." He held up the bad that had contained the bikini."

"This is not an appropriate time to try giving me that thing again."

"OK, so I recycled the bag. But see what's in it this time."

Liz pulled out the tissue paper and started to remove the contents of the bag: a tube of sunscreen, a pair of brightly handpainted sunglasses, a postcard of a beach, a picture of Rosings, a picture of the Lady Cat, and a photocopy of a calendar with some dates circled. She looked at him quizzically.

"You cleared your calendar for the trial dates, right?"

"Yes."

"So you can easily take the time off. We'll just go to Bermuda instead. I checked, and we will have the house to ourselves."

"Oh, Fitz!" She threw her arms around his neck. "You really do know how to fix things!" She spent several minutes thanking him, then suddenly pulled away.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Can we get tickets this late?"

"Tickets? To what?" He kissed her.

"Airplane tickets, of course."

"Don't need them." He kissed her again.

"Fitz, I think you're wonderful and all that, but even you, my love, can't walk on water."

"I wasn't planning to. We can take the jet. Nobody has requested it for these dates, so I signed up for it."

"The jet?"

"Yes"

"Whose jet?"

"Mine, well, the company's really. But I get first claim on it, unless someone has a serious business need for it. Mostly Anne and I are the ones who use it."

"Wow. George said you were wealthy, and I know you own a bunch of companies and you have this huge apartment and all. But it didn't sink in. My God, you're really rich!"

"Afraid so."

"But you don't act rich. Neither does Gina."

"What do you mean by acting rich?"

"The 'I can buy and sell six of you' attitude that we get from some of our rich clients. You don't do stuff like that. It just doesn't occur to me to think of you as this incredibly wealthy guy."

"I know. It's one of the many things I love about you. I've spent years dodging fortune hunters who looked at me and saw dollar signs. You looked at me and simply saw a man."

"Mmm, and what a man! Handsome, kind, strong, gentle, loyal, and now I get to add 'rich' to the list!"

Fitz chuckled, "So now that you've guessed my secret, I suppose you'll expect take-out from the Four Seasons or La Grenouille?"

"No, Chen's down on the corner is just fine for me. And come to think of it, I'm hungry. Where's the menu?"

"It's in the kitchen. But first," he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they broke the kiss, he whispered, "So, do you think you can get used to it?"

"What?" She kissed him lightly. "This? I can certainly get used to this." She kissed him again.

"Mmm, nice, but that isn't what I meant?"

"Oh, you mean, can I get used to you being rich? I guess so."

"That's good, but not quite what I meant."

"What, then?"

"Do you think you could get used to you being rich?"

Liz smiled. "It might take a while, but I'd be willing to try."

Epilogue

Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001

six months later

"Who sent the flowers?"

Liz stretched and turned over in her deck chair. "Captain and Mrs. Wentworth. I'm so happy for them! I just knew there was something there."

"Always the matchmaker, eh, Liz?"

"Hey, when I'm right, I'm right! Isn't this private balcony thing incredibly decadent? I never would have thought I'd be on the maiden voyage of Austen's Pemberley."

"You're going to get a funny tan."

"I beg your pardon! It was you who dared me to sunbathe topless. Oh, the pendant. I see what you mean." Liz slid the longtail pendant around so that it fell behind her shoulder. "You're going to have a jewelry mark, too."

"That's OK, I don't intend to take the ring off, so the tan line won't matter. Anyhow, we may not get very tanned on this trip. We seem to spend more time in the cabin than we do out here on the balcony."

Liz sat up and raised one eyebrow. "Is that an invitation, Mr. Darcy?"

"Well, we do have some time before we are supposed to meet the Wentworths and Uncle Lewis and Aunt Catherine for tea." He opened the door to the cabin and bowed. "After you, Mrs. Darcy."

She walked past him regally. Well, as regally as she could, considering that she was wearing only half of a bikini. "Why, thank you, sir."

He grinned. "My pleasure, ma'am."

Captain and Mrs. Wentworth and Mr. and Mrs. de Bourgh sat at a table by a window in the Regency Lounge, waiting for Fitz and Liz to join them. Catherine de Bourgh looked at her watch and frowned as the young couple approached the table.

"Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth! You are six minutes late!"

"Sorry Aunt Catherine. We got, um, distracted. We're still finding our way around the ship." Fitz smiled, but Liz's blush threatened to give them away.

Uncle Lewis grinned and kicked his wife discretely under the table. "Hush, Cate. They're newlyweds. They have stars in their eyes and can't see where they're going. And unlike you, they didn't have my excellent guide service to help them find the Regency Lounge."

"Speaking of stars, Liz," remarked Anne Wentworth, "I like your earrings. Oh! Only one is a star. The other is, um, the moon?"

"Yes, Fitz bought them for me because of the line from 'Now Voyager.'"

"Oh, yes, I love that line. 'Don't ask for the moon, we have the stars.'"

Liz and Fitz smiled at each other as Liz replied, "That's it, only better-I feel like I have the moon AND the stars!"

The End

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