Chapter Twenty-Four

T he mood on the New Orleans was light and jocular. The greatest trial was behind them. Now, if the deadly snags of sunken ships, shifting sandbars, rocky outcroppings, and reaching limbs of long submerged trees could be avoided, they would be reaching the city of New Orleans in record time. Everyone had a light jest on their lips and a spring in their step. With one exception.

Darcy noticed a shift in the attitude of Elizabeth. It seemed to germinate from the evening after their descent over the Falls of the Ohio. Some indefinable tension had sprung up between them, and Darcy was flummoxed to account for it, almost to distraction. It was more than just the awkwardness that had begun with the voyage.

He reviewed their recent conversations to try to discern if something he had said had inadvertently insulted her. He could recall nothing, to his mounting frustration. The ease of their previous interactions was almost completely absent. Their next session of piquet had been even more discomfited, with long periods of silence. The few times he had inquired about Elizabeth's health had earned him nothing more than curt answers and eyes that avoided his.

So, whilst everyone else was enjoying the well-earned glow of success and pride, Darcy found himself increasingly morose. He did the bare minimum of what was needed to keep up morale, maintain discipline, and supervise the frequent stops to renew the fuel of wood needed for the firebox of the engine.

After the city of Louisville, settlements and farms along the river were sparse and far between. The day before the Ohio would join the Mississippi, they had stopped for wood, and Clara May and Elizabeth had gone ashore to enjoy a few hours off of the boat.

As the men loaded up the last of the wood needed, Darcy watched Elizabeth from a distance as she walked the bank of the river. He was vigilant for any signs of bears, panthers, pirates, suspicious settlers who were scared of the boat, and natives who did not wish the voyage down the river to pass through their territories.

"Mr Darcy?"

He spun to see Clara May standing with her hands on her hips and her chin at an angle that Darcy now realised portended an airing of grievances from the small but fiery young maid.

"Yes? Is all well with Mrs Darcy?"

"As to that, I cannot say, sir. If you ask me, she seems to be a bit off. Ever since we escaped them dangerous waters. But what I have to say deals with me and Mr Baker."

"I do not think that I have any dealings in that particular matter. That is, unless you feel he has been too forward, then I hope you would feel enough at ease to bring any complaints to me. I am aware that the two of you have a private understanding…" Darcy looked down and knocked a small branch to one side, uncomfortable in this manner of direct speaking that seemed to be the common occurrence here in America, even between the sexes. However, Darcy could now clearly recognise the great benefit in it as well. He could not help but reflect that if he and Georgiana had spoken with less formality, he may have been able to prevent her from trusting in George Wickham so implicitly. Now, if there were any woman over whom Darcy had responsibility, he made a point in attempting to broach topics that would have mortified him not more than a year prior. "If he is making you feel uncomfortable… That is, what I mean to say is…"

Clara May waved up a hand, clearly in no mood for his stumbling attempts at supportive concern. "Just the opposite, sir. If you do not mind me saying, Nicholas Baker has always been kind and gentle in his affections, but I never wanted him to cease his attentions entirely! Ever since he came to consult you, he has been aloof…if you catch my meaning."

Darcy frowned, confused and mortified that the conversation had taken a turn he could never have predicted. "And—and am I to understand that you would prefer if he was less aloof?"

"I do not claim to understand how fine ladies and gentlemen conduct themselves when they are courting with a mind to marriage, but Mr Baker's attentions were welcome and are now…missed."

Darcy rubbed his hand on his forehead, wishing to be anywhere but here receiving a dressing-down from an American lady's maid. "Just so that I am rightly understanding you, you are telling me that you are angry that I told Mr Baker to conduct himself like a gentleman till we reach New Orleans?"

Clara May nodded vigorously. "Most ladies in love do not wish to be treated like the unbroken shell of an empty egg. Some signs of affection are greatly appreciated."

"Really?" Darcy asked, now thoroughly intrigued.

"Well, of course! Was it not like that between you and Mrs Darcy? Did you not occasionally sneak off behind some shrubberies to—"

"What do you two consult about so earnestly?"

A smiling, but curious Elizabeth stood just past them, looking between Darcy and Clara May with a puzzled grin on her face. Darcy smiled back, so grateful to see the expression that he had missed terribly for the last two days.

Clara May, bold as a spring robin, stepped up and said, "We were just discussing the manner in which courtships are conducted. I suppose it is very different in England than here in America."

"Ah, I see," responded Elizabeth, her eyes darting towards the laconic river water with a nervous burst of energy. "Of all the things I imagined you two may be consulting over, that one did not occur to me."

A deckhand approached. "Last load, sir. Shall you wish to row back with us, or should we come ashore again after we unload this wood?"

Darcy, Clara May, and Elizabeth all wished to return to the boat. As he held Elizabeth's hand whilst she stepped onto the rowboat, he squeezed with more firmness, hoping for a small sign. He was rewarded with a glance back in his direction from her. There was some stirring in her eyes and the way that she returned the pressure on his palm that set fire to Darcy.

I cannot be mistaken. There was something there. More than a friendly regard. It must be. I cannot be so deceived now, upon being more familiar with her nature. But what if I am incorrect again? What if I attempt a kiss on her cheek and find that I have wounded her pride and dignity? I could not bear it.

As they sat in the boat, Clara May leaned in towards Darcy and whispered, "You will have a word with Mr Baker, then? Tell him that you had no cause to interfere with our courtship and that he did me no injuries?"

Feeling every return of the previous humiliating conversation, Darcy muttered, "If that is what you wish. I will tell him that I did not mean to cause strife between the two of you."

She nodded her head sharply in approval.

Once back aboard the boat, Elizabeth stepped up to Darcy. "What was that all about?"

"Clara May was upset that I had ordered Mr Baker to conduct himself like a gentleman during the remainder of their courtship. Apparently, she believes that not all women wish to be perceived as delicate creatures. But I would not wish her reputation to be sullied. It can cause irreparable harm and lowness of spirits."

"Ah." Elizabeth blushed deeply. The engine rumbled to life as the boat continued downriver.

Darcy thought she would immediately retreat into her cabin and lock herself away, as had been her wont of late. But Elizabeth stood her ground, and with great effort, her neck rigid, she turned to look up at him.

"I think—when there is such a good understanding between the two parties—such liberties are not always unwelcome or even improper."

Darcy's body surged passionately with hopeful anticipation. Was she speaking of themselves? He was aware of every nuance of her countenance, watching, waiting for some further explanation, some hint of encouragement. Surely she could not be speaking on such an indelicate matter with him and not realise that he may misinterpret her meanings? Elizabeth was far too clever for that, was she not? Or was she so confident that her earlier disgust of him on the Jolly Sparrow had made any such misunderstanding an impossibility?

Darcy, struggling to remain impassive in appearance, said, "Oh? That is not what I would have expected to hear from a lady such as yourself."

Elizabeth's brows contracted in hurt confusion. "I do not say that I would conduct myself in such a manner." Her gaze dropped down. "I merely point out that such things are not uncommon."

"Forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you would…that you are one who would…" He hoped that she would swoop in to help him find the words, just as she usually did with a smile and her light laugh. But, surprisingly, Elizabeth's gaze remained lowered, and Darcy could not tell if he had wounded her deeply. Finally, he could bear it no more; the incessant closeness of her body to his for the last two months; her smile that fired his chest with happiness; restraining his hand from constantly being pressed by desire and love to sweep those mischievous curls from off her rosy cheek; wanting to press his lips firmly over her own—finally ending all those repeated conversational misunderstandings that seemed to always arise from choosing the wrong words to express himself on subjects that mattered the most. His heart was on the verge of cleaving in two from love and misery.

"Elizabeth. I hope that I have earned your trust these last few weeks enough for you to realise that I would never act in a way that was unbecoming to a gentleman. What I mean to say is…" Dizziness reached over him and swayed him forward towards her. His heart was impatient and wild with yearning to have her in his arms. The world seemed to tilt slightly and then righted itself. A thrumming rumble hissed in his ears—like approaching thunder—that Darcy attributed to his pounding heart. "I am certain that you cannot have failed to notice that—"

Again, Darcy felt off his balance. He stepped towards Elizabeth and then away. It was as if the New Orleans had become a ship on rough seas and was no longer a boat on a river.

Elizabeth stumbled towards him, then away, then back towards him. He reached out and grasped her arms by the elbows to steady her. The gentle sway of the boat continued for just a few moments more before Elizabeth looked up into Darcy's face, a cast of true fright in her eyes.

"What is occurring? We are not at sea—we should not be moving about like this!" Her voice was loud as she attempted to be heard over a thunderous roar.

"I am uncertain—" Darcy began before a cry of amazement was heard from midship.

Mr Jack was pointing out towards the shore, his mouth open in wonder. Darcy and Elizabeth turned to follow his pointing finger.

The leafless trees, their naked, December branches incongruous with the heat of the day, swayed back and forth with a motion that would have been a common sight on a windy day. However, there was no wind. The boat and the trees seemed to roll together and apart as if both land and boat were out on waves. A massive flock of birds struck out from the forest and coated the sky with inky wings, causing the sun to dim. The low thunder seemed to surround them, as if lightning from a storm was striking directly overhead. Added to the confusion was the sudden onslaught of hundreds of squirrels plunging into the water of the river, grasping and clawing their way over and under each other in an effort to reach the other shore.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth cried, "what is this new devilry?"

"I cannot say," he replied as he continued to gaze at the heaving shoreline. Darcy gripped his hands more tightly around Elizabeth's elbows and pulled her tightly to his chest. His desire to protect her from whatever calamity was befalling them had overridden every impulse to act with restraint.

"I believe—" Elizabeth swayed slightly away from him with a thrust of the ship and then back into his arms. She clutched her hands around his waist as he wrapped his arms more tightly across her upper back. "I believe we are in the middle of an earthquake! I have read of them, the shifting of the earth beneath us as the world readjusts. It has been described in words I have read, it has occurred many times before in previous centuries, but nothing prepared me—"

"For the experience in the flesh?"

She only nodded in response as she gazed in wonder, not releasing her hold on him for an instant.

A deckhand came up, his eyes wide with terror as he clung to the railing of the boat. "Sir? Is the sky falling? Is the comet landing to crush us all?"

"Of course not," Darcy said with a booming voice so that all would be able to hear his words. "It is no more than a shifting of the earth beneath us, an occurrence that has happened many times in the past and shall continue to occur in the future. My wife is not afraid, and neither should you be."

"Yes, sir. Shouldn't we go ashore?"

"No!" Elizabeth exclaimed with sharp vehemence. "We are far safer upon the water where the mass of water surrounding us will absorb and dissipate the rattles." She looked up into Darcy's face, her hands still clasping tightly onto him. "The danger on land would far exceed that which we experience here on the boat."

Darcy merely nodded, understanding her meaning. Looking back at the young man, he said, "Inform the rest of the crew that this is nothing more than an earthquake and that they are ordered to stay aboard as it is safer than having boots on the ground. After you have told everyone above, go to the kitchen and secure every pot and pan you can. Understood?"

The young man seemed calmer than when he first came up, the panic having retreated as he remembered his duties. "Yes, sir," he said before turning and lurching forward to carry out his orders.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said, now resting her temple against his chest as they continued to stare out into the forest that had become a living being that moved and strained as if to walk. "I suppose I should be grateful to witness such a phenomenon with my own eyes after having read of such instances, but it is a frightening thing. Far more so than the ride over the Falls."

Before he could think better of it, Darcy lowered his cheek to the top of her head. As he had imagined, it rested there perfectly, as if their bodies had been cast from the same mould, made exclusively for the other.

"Only a fool would not admit to being struck senseless and confused by this. And you are no fool."

She smiled up at him. "Another compliment from Mr Darcy? Will there be no end to extraordinary natural phenomena that I am to observe on this trip?"

"I know you are teasing, but it is true that I do not have that ease that some men possess to flatter. I speak my thoughts honestly."

"What of your feelings? Do you speak your feelings with such honesty?" she whispered.

"Not always. That is far more difficult."

Another significant roll of the ship caused Elizabeth to shut her mouth on the words she was about to speak. They held tightly to each other as the wave fled along under them, coming from the southwest as it journeyed northeast.

After another moment—and with enormous reluctance—Darcy pulled away from Elizabeth. "I think it has become more settled. Would you not agree?"

With a startled look on her face, Elizabeth said, "Yes, perhaps we are through the worst of it. I—I apologise for being so close. It was not intentional. It was… It was…"

"Instinctual? I agree. It felt entirely correct. There is no need to apologise."

Darcy began to reach for her arm, to pull Elizabeth back to him and show that his instinct to kiss her had been crushing him for these many weeks, when Clara May came up to them with a cry of hysteria.

"Are we to be swallowed by the ground? Down to the devil with us?" she asked with wide eyes. "Is it the comet come down from heaven to smite us? Lord have mercy!"

Elizabeth turned from Darcy and placed a hand on Clara May's arm. "Calm yourself. I believe the Lord has indeed extended us a mercy, for if we had been on land, in a building, we may have been toppled over by logs and stones till we had not breath in us."

"Do you think the Roosevelts are well? What if Louisville has been reduced to rubble?"

"If what I have read of earthquakes is correct—for that is what they are called—then it may be that we here on the boat experienced the worst of it. It is similar to when a stone is thrown into a quiet pond and the ripples extend out. The ripples decrease in power as they increase the distance from where the stone touched the water. Do you understand?"

"Well…I suppose," Clara May said with unabated confusion.

"Things are beginning to settle. Will you assist the cook in attending to anything that may have jostled loose in the kitchen?"

"Of course, Mrs Darcy." Clara May turned and walked with one hand clutching the railing as she made her way on unsteady feet.

"And I should check on the engine and Mr Baker," Mr Darcy said. "It would be a terrible blow to have come this far and have our engineer wounded or the engine damaged."

"I think you and I would be able to overcome any obstacle. I shall accompany you, for my eye may catch something that has been overlooked."

"If you wish," Darcy said as he held out his elbow for her to take. At first, Elizabeth stepped back, an undercurrent of captivating confusion in her eyes. But then another, weaker roll of the river under them caused her to step close and slide her arm through his.

"Thank you. I am grateful for the support."

"It will always be there for you, Elizabeth."

She turned a curious glance up towards him before looking away quickly.