Chapter Fifteen

A t breakfast the next morning, Darcy observed Elizabeth closely to attempt to catch any small hint of weariness or illness. Contrary to what he thought would be the result of such arduous tasks that Elizabeth had faced the previous day, he was secretly delighted to observe that her cheeks and chin had a ruddy glow of happiness.

His surprise at how invigorating she found their work was an observation that he did not voice. With only his more timid sister, Georgiana, and the other ladies of his acquaintance as a comparison, Darcy had mistakenly believed the journey and the labour would have overcome Elizabeth with fatigue.

He continued to muse on what an astonishing lady Elizabeth was when she cleared her throat.

"Fitzwilliam," she began with a lilt of uncertainty.

"Yes?"

"I was just considering—in a purely speculative way, you understand—what would occur if the Roosevelts were prevented from making this journey?"

"Why?" he responded sharply. "Is there something amiss?"

Darcy bit back his impulse to press her further on the subject. He dearly wished to remind Elizabeth of the vow they had made to keep no secrets from the other. However, he held her intellect too high in his esteem to imagine that she was not taking that under consideration at this very moment. Her bold spirit would not tolerate such a reprimand without a blush of indignation rising to her cheek, so Darcy held his tongue whilst he witnessed her considering her next words with care.

"I could say nothing had occurred to give concern, but that would be an insult to the partnership we have built. I wish you to be aware so that nothing is a shock to you. Lydia—Mrs Roosevelt, that is—was experiencing some discomfort yesterday that gave her a pale cast and a slower step. It is probable that the excitement of this venture has rendered Mr Roosevelt oblivious to the change in her vigour. She made me vow to not tell her husband, and I think that promise should extend to you as well. However, after so much effort, time, and expense on your part, I believe you must consider the possibility that the Roosevelts may not be able to captain this voyage down the Mississippi."

Darcy blinked back his surprise. His throat tightened at the mere notion of discussing in detail such an indiscreet subject with a lady, and especially since that lady was Elizabeth. She must be equally mortified. Swallowing down his intense discomfort, he said, "Oh? And do you think… That is to say, as a lady… What do you think is going… Do you anticipate difficulties?"

A reddish hue bloomed on her cheeks, betraying her own reticence in discussing the matter with him. "You must understand that my knowledge in this area is…limited. Other than our mare and prize sow, I have no experience to rely on that would qualify me as a sound judge of the circumstances."

Darcy choked on the sip of tea he had brought up to his lips. The image of Elizabeth in the barnyard aiding labouring livestock had him trapped between a laugh of amusement and an exclamation of shocked propriety. However, now that he was so well acquainted with her nature, he knew that he should not be surprised. Of course an active, curious, lively lady such as Elizabeth had been drawn to investigate the workings of nature around her. Now that he reflected, he would have been surprised if she had not bullied or snuck her way into scrapes that most ladies of her standing would have shrunk from.

Bringing his countenance back into order, Darcy said, "I see. And it is your opinion that we should be cognisant of the possibility of the Roosevelts being unable to make this trip."

"Yes."

"But perhaps Nicholas would press on without his wife."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I do not think so. There is an attachment that exists between them that is so uncommonly impassioned and unswerving, I cannot imagine that he would abandon her at such a delicate time, even for an undertaking to which he is so dedicated. Their devotion to each other is so profound as to make it quite exceptional."

Darcy nodded and looked away, unable to encounter her gaze as she described the very deepest desire of his heart—just such a union between themselves. "I very much appreciate your honesty with me on this point. I do not see how we could help if such a situation arose. I suppose we must hope for the best outcome. Mr Jack, the pilot, comes highly recommended. And Mr Baker, the engineer, is capable, as we observed for ourselves. They would be more than able to complete the task of delivering the boat to the city of New Orleans."

"Of course they would be capable . There is no question on that point. But there must be someone aboard who is much more than merely capable. To those two gentlemen, this is simply an obligation to be fulfilled. But for the Roosevelts—and for us—it is more. We are driven by so much more to succeed. If an accident arises during the voyage, there will be the temptation to surrender to failure and abandon the task. That is, it will be a temptation if there is no one aboard to rally the troops, so to speak. To find solutions to difficulties when the chance of succeeding is doubtful. Do you understand?"

Darcy knew that, as usual, Elizabeth was perfectly correct in her judgement. It was essential that someone intimately connected with the undertaking be on hand to encourage and direct. A person whose decisions carried the most weight. A leader. Just as his determinations were the final word at Pemberley, just such a one was needed aboard the New Orleans .

With a groan, Darcy rubbed his forehead as he considered. Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"I think the next step would be—if that were to come to pass—that you and I should take the trip—"

"Out of the question. Once we assemble the steam engine, you are to be placed on a ship back to England."

"Oh, I am, am I? And your proposal is that I should travel back to Philadelphia, unaccompanied, and place myself on any old tub going east? At a time when war may break out between America and England? That , sir, is what is out of the question. Am I to be alone and in a constant state of worry about you and the boat during this whole time? No, indeed not. This is a partnership. Either we both succeed, or we fail together."

A fire in her eyes blazed out at him.

If only that devotion was for me alone. I am miserable with this constant ache.

He stood suddenly. "This is a mere possibility. Unlikely to occur. It is probable that we quarrel over nothing."

"In that, we are in agreement. All is going accordingly so far. We must hope for the best and that our concerns are unfounded."

"Very sensible."

"Good," she replied with a hint of asperity.

"Yes. We can revisit this if the need arises."

"A rational statement if ever there was one."

Darcy was about to respond again, but held himself in check, for he knew that perhaps Elizabeth was attempting to have the last word of the conversation. He smiled privately at this minor vagary in her character that had become familiar to him.

As he helped her with her cloak, Darcy reflected on what might be in the very near future. The idea of sending her off, alone in a foreign land, whilst he would be unreachable on a river voyage, wrenched his heart with despair. He would not be able to do it. However, no one accompanying the New Orleans who had a strong interest in its success was not a possibility either.

Darcy dismissed the concern as unlikely as they both entered a carriage to travel to the shipyard for a day of assembling the engine.

As the day grew in length, so did Darcy's growing sense of foreboding. If Mrs Roosevelt fell ill, what would occur was beyond his mind to imagine. He tried to dismiss concern as the engine began to take shape and form more clearly. This aspect of the trip was flawless. Everything fit neatly in place, made for the corresponding part in every groove and curve. The Sun and Planet gears were aligned perfectly and in place. During the testing, Darcy watched in amusement at the smaller, quicker gear circling the larger, slower gear, its teeth meshing with the bigger gear, causing it to turn almost against its own natural inclination.

He glanced at Elizabeth, standing next to him, gripping a quill and paper in her hand, her bright eyes piercing through the gloom of the hold as she eagerly observed the mechanics unfolding before her. Her moist lips were parted in wonder, and not for the first time, Darcy marvelled at how increased her natural charm became when her mind was stimulated with some new event or idea.

As her whole attention was upon the test of this part of the engine, Darcy permitted himself the risky indulgence of a smile of warm admiration at this lady next to whom he had the great fortune to be standing. His heart was full to bursting as she glanced rapidly at him, then back to the Sun and Planet gears, laboriously continuing their delicate dance of steam, steel, and pressure.

With her eyes staying locked upon the engine, Elizabeth said, "I see that jocose look in your eye, sir. Do not mock me in your private thoughts. You have had the great advantage of observing all of this before in mines and at the brewery in London. To me, however, this is terra incognita. Though I have imagined this moment again and again for several weeks, I am astonished! I cannot help but appear foolish."

She finished her declaration with a musical laugh, her cheeks red from the heat cascading in waves off the firebox. Darcy felt the all too familiar tide of disappointment rise in his breast; that she could so misunderstand his intentions, a lady as intelligent as any he had ever encountered in his life. How could he so consistently be misapprehended by Elizabeth?

For a moment, he almost succumbed to his typical response of morose brooding upon his misfortune. A new thought entered his awareness and chased away the approaching low spirits. Just a few weeks ago, a moment such as this could have ended in his storming off, leaving a puzzled, angry Elizabeth in his shadow.

Lately, there had been a subtle shift in their friendship. Unless he was mistaken, it seemed that she sought out his company when it was unnecessary for them to spend time together. His opinion appeared to have more weight in her considerations. Her teasing of him was more frequent and always accompanied with a genuine smile of merriment. When in the company of others, she would steal glances at him, those glances filled with meaning or to express that she found what was occurring a source of interest or amusement. And, inexplicably, Elizabeth would occasionally look at him with sympathy in her gaze, as if she pitied him for some conflict he endured.

She behaves as I often saw her when in the company of her friend Charlotte or her sister Jane. Comfort, confidences, and consideration are the foundation of what we have built together.

With a shock, Darcy understood that it was a start that could bloom into something more. The first pieces of the complex mechanisms of love might be gathered and meshed together in what they had between them. It was a modest beginning, one that was so delicate that Darcy averted his gaze lest it should tumble into a tangled pile of incongruent, damaged cogs and wheels.

She loves to tease those she cares for deeply. Very well, I will tease back. Then she will know that I take no offence in her pert little remarks. For is that not one of the methods she employs to express affection?

Darcy cleared his throat, more loudly than he intended. He was grateful for the clanking and hissing of the engine to hide a portion of his discomfort.

"You did appear for a moment to be in a state of wonder. So much so that I was taken back to Pemberley and reminded of one of the trout in the stream that runs along the grounds and into the lake."

Elizabeth turned to him, again in a state of undisguised marvel. But this time the sensation was a consequence of his statement, not the scientific wonder churning and heaving before them. "Why, Mr Darcy, did you just make a witty remark at my expense?"

For a terrible stretch of time—what must have been mere seconds, but felt to him like an eternity—Darcy wondered if he had misjudged her and the situation. Perhaps they would revert to their cautious remarks and seething resentments of the first few hours on the Jolly Sparrow when Elizabeth had been terrified of him and he had been in a state of confused fury.

To his enormous relief, he watched as Elizabeth tilted her head back and laughed unreservedly. Never since the beginnings of this adventure had Darcy felt such pure joy wash over him. It took every ounce of restraint to will his arms not to take her in a close embrace and kiss her in front of the engineer, the pilot, and several of the dockhands. He wanted nothing more than to declare his undying affection for her. To have that laugh of hers be forever her most precious gift that she could bestow upon him in moments of intimacy, times of trial, and to instantly dispel the ennui that occasionally stole over his heart and mind.

Refusing to give in to the frustration of Elizabeth not truly being his wife and being unable to express all that he wished he could, Darcy tore his gaze from her and looked to the release valve and the chain that dangled from it.

"If Pemberley had fish such as you swimming the streams, I am certain not an ounce of work would be done, for all of the men of the estate would be far too distracted." Not daring to turn to her to observe how she received what he hoped was a flattering jest, Darcy turned to the engineer. "Mr Baker, should we test the release valve? Though the chain has not yet been run up to the wheel, I think we ought to be certain that the pressure can be relieved quickly. We are running at a low temperature, so it would be wise to make a try of it now to ensure that we can relieve the dangerous build-up and avoid an explosion."

"Though the pressure is in a very safe spot, there would not be any harm in giving it a go, I suppose," Mr Baker reluctantly conceded.

"Elizabeth, my dear, would you like to be the first to declare to the world that we have met with success so far?"

Elizabeth glanced at him, embarrassed. Then in a conspiratorial mood, she smirked back at him and said, "Why, yes, dear "—she giggled—"I would be honoured."

Elizabeth took the chain in her hand and pulled down. The air was rent apart by the whistling shriek of steam. Elizabeth cried out, clearly unprepared for the sound that was louder than anything she had likely ever heard in her life as her head jerked up to watch the white steam escape into the blue sky above.

Her hands shot up to cover her ears as she stepped back from the chain. Her back encountered Darcy's chest, and he reached both hands out to clasp her shoulders, steadying her shaky retreat.

With a wild laugh, she turned in his arms and looked up at him. "Oh, Fitzwilliam! Have you ever heard anything so loud? It declares itself to the entire world without a hint of shame or propriety."

His neck was rigid with the effort it required to appear calm and cool as her warm, eager body pressed close to him. She was utterly guileless, nothing else in her intentions than to express her joy and wonder at the extraordinary moment. Darcy felt he might burst with love. The steam and heat below decks, the raw power of the workings of the machinery behind her, the urgent demands of his passion—it was almost unbearable.

He gently pressed her several inches from him, though every fibre of his being deeply craved for him to do the exact opposite and wrap her more closely in his arms.

"I am afraid we may have startled some of the citizens with our display," he muttered.

They could hear some cries of wonder, fear, and colourful exclamations from the docks.

Elizabeth stepped farther from him. With an increase of red to her already rosy cheeks, she nodded eagerly.

"I hope they are not scandalised…by the whistle. It came upon them so suddenly, they did not have any sort of warning," she said in a quiet voice.

"It would seem to me that the most extraordinary occurrences in life give little to no warning. It does not follow that those events, or developments—the ones that take us unawares—need be unpleasant."

Darcy turned suddenly and gave his full attention back to the Sun and Planet gears. Their steady revolution around one another had not slowed. The mesh of the pair was firm, binding, and unbreakable. He was curious what expression was on Elizabeth's face, but refused to turn his gaze back towards her again. Hoping that she could sense that more was being discussed between them than the workings of the engine, his back stayed to her. Darcy allowed himself that small flicker of hope and did not seek to extinguish it.