Chapter Thirteen

D arcy thought the flimsy curtains of Elizabeth's window fluttered. With a wry shake of his head at his own foolishness, he turned his gaze back up to the comet. Cold, distant, above any force of heart or soul that tormented those below; that was the lesson the comet had to teach him.

Returning to his itchy pallet of blankets and straw, he hoped for a few hours of sleep before they entered the city of Pittsburg tomorrow. He vowed to remain just as impassive to the glances of Elizabeth, especially those that held the most danger for his heart. Those moments of sparking humour just beginning to emerge in her dark eyes that preceded a laugh. The mere thought of it caused him to smile into the dark of the lofty barn beams high above him.

He frowned and tossed onto his side, hitting the hay violently a few times to attempt to force some semblance of comfort from it. Futile as it was, the action caused him to chase away thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet's lustrous eyes.

Darcy attempted to make some sense out of the future. Would he need to force Elizabeth to return to England with him? What right did he have to attempt such a thing? Their time together was almost at an end. The idea of leaving her alone in America caused a fresh flush of tossing and turning for his heart and body.

Darcy acknowledged that he had no right to attempt to force her to do anything against her will. The mere thought of it gave rise to disgust. There was no legal power over her. The best he could hope for was to attempt to reason with her and make her see that there was no other alternative but to return to England with him and be reinstated into a house with an indifferent father and a mother who had cast her off.

That particular future for Elizabeth gave him no comfort. If he attempted to force her to bend to his will, her affections would be even less his own than at the present moment. He groaned aloud at the injustice of it all. For the first time in his life, the path he was meant to tread was uncertain and hazy. Since his earliest moments of remembrance, he had been impressed with how set out his future was before him. To be master of Pemberley. Now to be on the other side of the world with an engine that was mocked and scorned by men and with the woman for whom his heart yearned relentlessly and who did not return his affections; it was all Darcy could do to keep from surrendering to despair.

He wished more than anything to declare in no uncertain terms the dearest desire of his heart to Elizabeth. But she was without recourse and friendless, totally at his mercy. To press his suit at this moment outraged his dignity and every gentlemanly sensibility in his breast. It would be improper and unjust. It would not only be taking advantage of the vulnerability of her position, but it would not grant him the one thing that he craved with his entire being—Elizabeth's love, freely given, with no outward inducement.

When morning broke, he sat up with a start. The usual rattles of bridles and snorts of horses that greeted every sunrise in a stable filled his ears.

Before he entered the inn, Darcy went to the well in the grubby courtyard. A brisk splash of water over his head and neck helped to revive him. Not terribly pleased with his own scent, Darcy took the time to remove his shirt and wash up as best he could. The air was chilled and sharp, but not nearly as cold as he had expected for November.

Glancing up, he was certain that this time he had detected a flutter of the curtains in Elizabeth's window. With a sigh of embarrassed resolution, Darcy added indiscretion to his list of offences that she must have recorded under his name. He was certain no other gentleman of her acquaintance would be shirtless in a courtyard, dousing himself with water from the stable pump.

At breakfast downstairs, Darcy and Elizabeth sat in silence as they ate. Every time he glanced at her, he suspected that he had just missed catching her gaze as she looked to the side or out the window.

Clearing his throat, Darcy said, "We must be vigilant for these last few miles. This stretch of road is known for its dangers."

Startled, Elizabeth looked up. Their eyes finally met, and Darcy felt a surge of passion, as strong as it had ever been, engulf his body. His very sensible resolution of the evening before—to attempt to emulate the aloof, distant comet—crumbled as he dropped his gaze to his plate in an effort to disguise his sudden discomfort.

"Do you mean to frighten me into submitting to your directive that I am to return to England the moment we have completed this trip? Or is there truth in your words?"

There was a hint of humour in her questions. But now Darcy could not fail to recognise, after having become so intimately familiar with his Elizabeth, that there was steel underneath the teasing tone. "You must allow me to apologise for my reaction last evening. You are correct in that I have no power to direct in what way you should proceed once we are finished with the engine. I hope… That is, I would strongly wish that you would consider me enough of a friend to heed my advice."

"Of course you are my friend," Elizabeth responded, colouring slightly in a way that puzzled him. "Some of what I spoke was unfortunate. You must allow me to apologise as well. Truly, I am undecided as to what I may do. And I promise, I will consult you and take your advice under due consideration."

"Thank you. That relieves my mind a little. Come, the day gets on."

"I am excited to see another American city," Elizabeth exclaimed as they rose. "Though we were in Philadelphia for just one night, I thought it a pleasant, though bustling place. The bustling is to be expected in a port. Do you think Pittsburg will be as lovely?"

The innkeeper caught Elizabeth's last words as her trunk was being brought down from above. Wheezing with a rueful, breathy laugh, he said, "If you expect loveliness, I think Pittsburg will miss the mark, lass. But, I suppose if you find coal, smoke, and the liveliness of trade beautiful, then you will be right pleased."

He nudged Darcy with his elbow. "Keep an eye on your lady once in the city. Such a pretty face will not go unnoticed."

"I thank you. Your accommodations were very…suitable."

"Well, thank you, sir."

Darcy placed a coin in the innkeeper's hand before they departed.

Back on the road, Elizabeth craned her neck to look out the window, as the countryside began to yield to the signs of the encroaching city. The haze that began to be noticeable was reminiscent of London. Though the city was not nearly close in size to London, it was as heavy with the results of industry. As they moved closer into the heart of the minor metropolis, every building had a sheen of brown or even black to it, the result of the constant production of coal, steel, tin, and glass. Once, there was even a small sprinkling of black snow raining down from the sky.

Their convoy came to a halt in the early afternoon in front of a sturdy stone house that belied an attempt to imitate the more ancient structures of the European cities. The stones had running streaks of black down the front.

Elizabeth gazed up in wonder as they exited the carriage. "Such a young country and already the darkened stones tell of such an enormous amount of industry that this home has witnessed! It is a sound building, though."

"Yes, there appears to be little shortage of coal and the manufacture of steel in this city. It will only increase if a war with England occurs."

"You project far too many gloomy thoughts into a future that has not yet occurred, sir. Besides, even if that comes to pass, you will be back in England, or at the very least on your way there."

Darcy could only purse his lips together to tamp down a response. He was not so sanguine when it came to the hope of peace remaining between England and America. War seemed to him more and more of a certainty, and he did not relish the thought of being far from home, a citizen of the hostile country, and the custodian of Elizabeth Bennet if a conflict began.

Taking her elbow in the familiar way in which a husband ought, Darcy guided Elizabeth up the stone steps. They were greeted by a servant and had barely made it inside the house when a tall, handsome older man, with a roundish face, bunching eyebrows, and holding a long, Dutch smoking pipe in one hand, approached them with exclamations of happiness and open arms. He was several years Darcy's senior, but had that exuberance of spirit that gave a perpetual air of youth to those fortunate enough to possess it. He reminded Darcy of Bingley. For a fleeting moment, Darcy wondered if his friend had yet returned to Netherfield and managed to secure the hand of Jane Bennet.

"You must be Mr Darcy! It is a fine thing to finally meet you, sir, and the engine? Yes, yes! I will tell my man to show the drivers the way to the shipyard of the Mississippi Steamboat Company. I am Nicholas Roosevelt, and it is my ship into which we will install the engine. So exciting, so very exciting. We will set the river aflame with exclamations of wonder and awe! A fine thing. What a sight to behold. And what a tidy profit to be had by us all. If we can beat any other company to the city of New Orleans, we can secure the rights to move passengers and freight between the cities of New Orleans and Natchez. Just imagine! Instead of a boat making just one round trip a year to New Orleans, we will soon be making a dozen."

The man had ended his rattling speech with a flourishing wave of his arms, and Darcy was momentarily reminded of the unpleasant way in which Wickham was able to bedazzle people, like a showman in the middle of a ring. He ignored the unfair comparison and attempted to smile slightly as he extended his hand to this new, boisterous business partner.

"How do you do? I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, and this is my…my wife, Elizabeth." Though he had had much practice at their little deception, the words raked out of him painfully as his heart lurched with desire that the charade should be a reality.

"Yes, yes, very charmed, I am certain," Mr Roosevelt said hurriedly. "Now, if we begin to organise the crates and get the entire machinery on the ship by sunset tomorrow, if there are no delays, we should be able to leave by the twentieth of November. Will you be joining us? My wife spared no little luxury when fitting out the interior of the berths. Even a very fine lady"—he nodded absentmindedly at Elizabeth, much to her apparent amusement as Darcy could see by the twinkle in her eyes—"would have few objections to the accommodations. Though small, the berths for the ladies are impeccably adorned with the most recent fashions and conveniences. I am certain my wife would enjoy—"

"My dear Nicholas, what are you claiming will be a delight for me?"

All three, still hovering near the open front door, turned to see a graceful, pretty, very young lady approach who was far beyond when a woman should be confined to bring a child to bed. She held out her hand to Darcy as she approached.

Hesitantly, Darcy bowed and shook her hand. Introductions were exchanged. This black-haired, charming lady was Mr Roosevelt's wife, Lydia. There was a spark in her speech and glance that reminded Darcy strongly of Elizabeth.

"Shame on you, Nicholas. You have left them milling at the door like tradesmen!" she said with a playful reprimand to her husband. "Please, come this way."

She looped her arm through Elizabeth's, and the two ladies, looking very similar in height, build, and aspect, led the way to the drawing room. Darcy smiled as the two fell quickly into conversation whilst he was again being bombarded by the enthusiasm of Mr Roosevelt.

Darcy interrupted, "And your wife will be joining you on this trip? Is that entirely wise?"

Nicholas laughed. "You imagine I have any say over what my wife does or says? No, no. Let me disabuse you of that notion, sir. She is a free-spirited woman who does as she pleases. Why, Lydia was heavy with our first child when we made the exploratory voyage on a flatboat all the way down to New Orleans. She didn't let anyone stop her then, and I do not think she will let anyone change her mind now. I expect this child will be born on board the boat. What a fine thing to be the first baby born on a steam vessel."

Darcy shifted uncomfortably as he settled himself in a chair, glancing towards Elizabeth. Her face was open and cheerful; her speech was rapid. Apparently, she had little difficulty in navigating through this frank and open speech that seemed common practice here in America. Darcy wished he could achieve such ease.

After just a few minutes, Mr Roosevelt exclaimed, "If you are ready, Mr Darcy, we could go to the shipyard now and begin work."

"But they have not yet decided on their accommodations, my dear. And perhaps Mr Darcy would care to stay for a meal before going to the shipyard?" Mrs Roosevelt ventured.

"That is unnecessary, but thank you for the consideration, Mrs Roosevelt," Darcy answered hurriedly. Though he was hungry, the thought of sitting through an entire meal whilst the eager Mr Roosevelt attempted to hurry him along was entirely unappealing. Besides, he was almost as anxious as Roosevelt to visit the shipyard and begin the work, though he was well aware that his face betrayed none of the anxiety he felt.

His gaze darted to Elizabeth, and her merry eyes displayed just how intimate she was with his every mood and whim.

"I can see that my husband is equally as eager to begin this endeavour, though it would be difficult for others to recognise," Elizabeth said with a hint of a tease in her tone. "And though I wish to continue our conversation, Mrs Roosevelt, I am afraid that I must beg off as well. For you see, I am not just his spouse, I am also his assistant."

"There now! You see, Nicholas?" Mrs Roosevelt cried out with pleasure. "I am not so very anomalous in my desire to be your assistant. Here we have another young woman who will not stand idly by and let the gentlemen have all of the fun and adventure."

"Too true. I have always admired that quality in you, my dear. However, you are in a most delicate state at the moment—"

"Oh, nonsense! I was in the way of bearing a child during our first voyage down the Mississippi, almost two years ago. Nothing occurred to give you worry. I imagine this time will be no different."

"You really intend to accompany your husband?" Darcy asked, still startled at the idea of a woman expecting her confinement so soon going on a voyage that was certain to be fraught with peril. "I imagine it will be enough of an adventure for just the gentlemen."

"Where my husband goes, I go. No matter the danger." Mrs Roosevelt pressed up to stand next to Nicholas and wove her arm through his in a warm, caring way. "It alarms the ladies of this city to no end, but it has always been thus between us and so shall it always be."

"Such a devotion is admirable!" Elizabeth declared stoutly, much to Darcy's annoyance. "And I am so grateful to have met one of my sex who thinks similarly. Ladies have as much claim to an adventure as the gentlemen. You make me quite envious. I almost wish it was my husband and I who were to take this trip down the river."

"But it is not, my dear," Darcy replied with some determination. "Once we install this engine, we will begin our trip back to Philadelphia and then return to England."

"If you change your mind, sir, the New Orleans has several available berths aboard," Mr Roosevelt said. "Once you see how we have spared no expense, perhaps you will change your mind. My wife would very much enjoy the company of another young lady. And, I must confess that I would not be opposed to having the additional help managing the boat and her crew."

"That is very kind of you, but—" He glanced down at Elizabeth, looking up at him with avid, expectant eyes. The flare of scintillating eagerness that beamed up at him through her dark gaze was almost more than he could bear. His heart wanted to please her in any way he possibly could. However, as always occurred, his more sensible, practical nature asserted itself. "We are quite anxious to return home. Our family—my wife's, in particular—will be most uneasy until they know we have returned to England without incident."

Mr Roosevelt laughed in a way that reminded Darcy of Sir William Lucas. "Of course, but if you happen to change your mind, or have it changed for you"—he raised his eyebrows with a significant glance in the direction of Elizabeth—"the offer stands."

Darcy stiffened at this implication that his decision could be swayed by the whims of Elizabeth. "Of course. I appreciate the offer, but my mind is made up on the subject. Besides, America may not be terribly welcoming to the English in the very near future."

"I would not concern yourself too much over that. This country is made up of citizens from around the globe! If we started to turn on our neighbours over every diplomatic dust-up, we would be in a perpetual state of conflict. Besides, so many of us have a touch of the English in our heritage, I do not think it will be held against you so long as you treat others with deference and respect."

Darcy simply bowed his head, unwilling to debate the point further with a man who was so apparently set on being correct. After a little more encouragement, it was decided upon that Elizabeth would remain with Mrs Roosevelt for the evening and accompany Darcy in the morning.

As he and Mr Roosevelt took their leave of the ladies, Darcy could not help but reflect on the many instances over the past several weeks when he had been forced out of necessity to oblige and compromise in order to achieve an equitable solution. Initially, the experience had been irksome in the extreme. His word had always been law at Pemberley, and any decision was treated with respect, never questioned or doubted for a moment. Now, it seemed everything was up for debate. And the debate was with those whom, just a year prior, it would have been a mortifying degradation to engage.

Even as he reflected on these unpleasant, recent developments in his life, Darcy could not help but warmly anticipate the coming moments when Elizabeth would attempt every device to change his mind. Her clear, well-reasoned opinions. Her little bursts of impassioned declarations that always made her cheeks glow with a rosy hue. Even her quarrels with him were a source of pleasure in a manner that he found surprising and novel. The thought of this made the ride to the shipyard pass away quickly as Mr Roosevelt pointed out the many instances of industriousness that his city could boast of.

Alighting from the curricle, Darcy paused and took in the vessel before them. Long and low, large twin paddle wheels on the port and starboard sides, the strangest silhouette of a boat that he had ever seen stood before him in the close of the day. The only thing that interrupted the outline of the neat, fresh boat was the enormous, awkward chimney that emerged from the centre of the deck.

It struck Darcy forcefully that he was witnessing a beginning and an end. This voyage would change this entire country and show the world the benefits of steam engines. But accompanying this moment would be the loss of livelihoods for many of the sweating men who were on the Monongahela River before him, pushing enormous flatboats upstream with long poles. The inhuman amount of toil and labour it took to bring a boat against the current from downriver amazed Darcy. But not all would see this change as beneficial, and perhaps they would have just cause for their misgivings.

Unconsciously, he turned to voice his excitement and reservations to Elizabeth and consult her opinion. His heart sank when he realised she was not there. A heaviness settled over his chest as he again thought of the impending end of their adventure and the end of their time together, pretending to be husband and wife.