Chapter Six

T he shocked silence that filled the little berth lasted several moments. The sole sound to pierce the quiet were the heavy groans and creaks of the ship as she made her way through the choppy waters. Neither seemed capable of speech. Elizabeth had the added burden of feeling sicker than she had ever felt in her life plied with her utter dismay at seeing the one man she detested more than any other of her acquaintance.

"You!" Elizabeth exclaimed after swallowing very hard to keep a wave of stomach unease at bay. "You are not Mr William Lock—you are not at all the old man with whom I corresponded."

"Old man? What old man? Why are you—why are you not waiting for me in Hertfordshire?"

"Waiting for you? Why, in the name of all that is good, would I be waiting for you ?"

Mr Darcy shook his head. His mouth hung open, his eyes wide. He took a step back, confusion apparent on his face.

"But I thought—" he stammered before pausing to rub his forehead. "Why? Why are you here? You need not have made an attempt to ensnare me—or resort to some sort of entrapment of compromise—" He clamped his mouth shut. Under the tumult of his black curls that fell down in the most unkempt, uncharacteristic way, Mr Darcy furrowed his brows as he seemed to struggle with what he was going to say. "I-I thought you had no intention of leaving Hertfordshire! I thought we understood each other."

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that the horrid dizziness would abate. "We did understand each other! Your approval of Jane and Mr Bingley, your promise to not impede their courtship, it was very kind of you. I am glad we came to such an agreeable accord."

"Your hair," he cried out, eyes wide in shock.

Elizabeth's hand shot up. The roughly shorn hair, cut with a kitchen knife in the dark of night in the Longbourn kitchen, fell in short curls around her face. A blush of embarrassed heat rose in her cheeks. Elizabeth hoped it dispelled some of the sickly pallor that her face must be displaying.

She swung her legs to the floor with all the ease that a pair of men's breeches could afford and stood rapidly. Placing her hands on her hips and thrusting out her chin in an attempt to make a believable show of strength and determination that she certainly did not feel, Elizabeth stared up at Mr Darcy with her sternest glare. "My hair will grow back. You, sir, it seems that you will never grow any charming manners or gentlemanly airs! You are still the most proud, the most disagreeable—"

Black dizziness leapt up behind her eyes. She swayed and lost all sense of who she was or where she was. When her eyes opened, she found herself being supported in the firm arms of Mr Darcy.

Blinking back a rush of tears and shock, she could only stare up into his close face with surprise and a meagre measure of gratitude.

"You are unwell," he murmured.

"I—I came onto the ship because— Well, you see…"

"Save your words till you feel more up to speaking. I must tell the captain to turn around. We must take you back to London."

"No!" Elizabeth pressed herself from his embrace and stood unsteadily on her own. "I cannot return. I have little to go back to, sir. Please, do not turn around."

She swayed and sat heavily on the bunk. Mr Darcy rushed to ease her descent with a hand on her elbow.

Frowning, he said, "I do not understand. Has some misfortune befallen your family? Are your parents well? And all of your sisters? Bingley did not send word to me of any illness."

With a small, weak laugh, Elizabeth said, "Even if something had befallen us, by his own admission, Mr Bingley is not the best correspondent."

Despite the gravity of the situation, a half-smile curved up one corner of Mr Darcy's lips. "It is true, I would be more likely to hear of something by any other means than his pen. You cannot remain here, on board. It is not safe."

"Would you toss me into the sea? I must remain here, it would seem. This ship is bound for America, and I intend to go as well. I thought the man I corresponded with was an elderly gentleman. You cannot be Mr William Lock. Is he on board? I am to be his assistant."

"The assistant of Mr Lock? You?" Mr Darcy stood from his kneeling position in front of Elizabeth and sat next to her on the bunk. He rested his face in his hands and groaned with frustration. He raised his head, looking worn and tired. "You have the very fine pleasure of speaking with Mr Lock. If I am Mr Lock, then you must be the young lad, Mr Ellwood Gardiner."

"You deceived me?" Elizabeth burst out indignantly.

"In much the same manner as you have deceived me! My solicitor, Mr Cromtook, is the one who worded the advertisement and the letter. So you were indeed corresponding with an elderly gentleman. I am not proud of taking a false name for the voyage and relying upon Mr Cromtook. Disguise of any sort is my abhorrence, but I needed to be on this ship to transport very specialised equipment to America. I could hardly do so under my own name without arousing suspicion—" He fell abruptly silent, his eyes looking far away in contemplation.

"But why would you, of all people, need to move machinery of industry across the seas?" Elizabeth asked.

"You need not involve yourself with these matters. It is none of your concern."

"None of my concern? I am on a ship, bound for another country! In disguise as a boy, far from any friend or relative who may be able to assist me, my reputation in ruins should any of this be known—and you say it is none of my concern? You, who led me under false pretences to make this enormous leap of faith, have the presumption to state it is none of my concern? How dare you!"

Her voice had begun to rise. Mr Darcy held up a hand. Elizabeth recoiled to the far corner of the bed, frightened and panting. "Do not strike me, sir, or I shall scream till the captain arrives with his men!"

"Strike you?" Mr Darcy shook his head. His eyes gazed, bewildered, as he dropped his hand. "The last thing I could ever do is strike you. Your voice is raised. You are unwell. I do not think you wish for it to be discovered by the entire crew that you are not a young man. I want only to help you. Please."

The note of pleading in his voice mingled with the look of supplication in his eyes caused Elizabeth to hang her head in frustrated embarrassment. The movement made her empty stomach swell with uncertainty. She moaned.

"Would some wine ease your troubles? Shall I fetch anything for you? All you have to do is ask. I want to help you, Miss Elizabeth."

"Ellwood."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Ellwood. Remember?"

Mr Darcy blinked at her, confused. Despite the gravity of her circumstances and the terrible attack of biliousness, Elizabeth could not help but cover her mouth and let out a trifling laugh that grew in strength, tears of exhaustion and mirth in her eyes.

"You should have seen your face, when you saw me—" She gasped for a breath. "Such a shock as like you have never had in your life!"

With a smile, Mr Darcy replied, "And your countenance was no better. I do not think a ghost could have caused you a more severe jolt."

Once the laughter faded, Elizabeth felt even worse and began to collapse on her bunk.

"In truth, Miss Elizabeth, we must move you to my quarters."

Elizabeth waved a hand at him, dismissing the thought as best she was able. "Do not be ridiculous. I would be compromised beyond any sort of redemption."

"I think the moment you made the decision to step aboard this vessel, that ship sailed."

Elizabeth sat up, wide-eyed. "Did you…? No, it cannot be. Did you just attempt a small jest? Mr Darcy made a minor—very minor, by the by—jest! It will not be believed by anyone."

He frowned down at her and ran a hand through his hair. "You believe me incapable of humour? I realise I can impress others with my austerity, but I had no idea that you thought me devoid of any merriment at all. I thought you knew—well, never mind. We must move you."

"But—"

"I will not have you alone and almost totally incapacitated on a ship full of men for days on end. Do not be ridiculous. It cannot be helped. There are no other women passengers aboard who could act as a companion to you."

Without waiting to hear her protest, Mr Darcy wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as if she weighed no more than a pillow. With surprising adroitness, he opened the door and quickly glanced up and down the narrow passage that ran the length of the ship. It was empty of seamen.

Mr Darcy stepped out and began walking to the aft of the ship. The heat from his body made Elizabeth uneasy.

Squirming determinedly, Elizabeth hissed into his face, "Put me down this instant! I am so slender, I can easily pass for a very young man. If any saw us, it would rouse far more suspicion that you felt the need to swoop me around like a sack of grain. Put me down at once!"

"As you wish," he replied, in a cool tone.

Instantly, he released her legs and her heavy boots smacked onto the planks of wood. She staggered slightly and grabbed at one of the steps of the narrow stairs to the deck above. " Thank you, " Elizabeth muttered in mock cordiality. "I have rarely ever encountered a gentleman possessing such refined, cordial—"

Elizabeth's hand jerked up and covered her mouth. Without a pause to explain, her feet scrambled up on deck. A swell of the water helped to fling her to the rail that lined the main deck. She leaned over and ejected what little was left in her stomach. Along with the remnants of a roll eaten many hours earlier, several large, salty tears joined the tangy salinity of the waters below that dashed past.

Never in her life had Elizabeth so desired the indifferent comforts that Mrs Bennet had to offer. She was seized with a passionate longing for one kind glimpse from Jane, a brusque word of encouragement from Mrs Hill, or a casual inquiry by her father. All were far away. Miles and miles of water kept relentlessly unfurling between Elizabeth and Longbourn. Her queasiness and aching head intensified with this realisation.

A loud, harsh laugh behind her barked out as several of the deckhands stopped their work to be amused by the landlubber and his discomfort.

One slapped Elizabeth on her back in an attempt to rally her spirits. "There now, lad! Not a man among us has not had a touch of the seasickness. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Inform your captain that I will be taking my assistant to my cabin so that I may better see to his comfort," Mr Darcy said in a stern voice. He placed one arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and began to lean her body into his.

"Are you well enough to return below deck, Eli—Ellwood? Had I known you were of such a delicate disposition, I should never have offered you this job. I am quite disappointed."

Despite fully knowing that Mr Darcy was making this display of hard-heartedness for the benefit of the deckhands, Elizabeth could not help but let out a small sob and nod her head in meek compliance. Her heart felt heavy, and her body was worn to exhaustion. She stumbled beside Mr Darcy and allowed him to hold her close as they made their way gingerly down below deck.

How she made her way to his cabin and herself snug upon his bunk, she had no memory. Sleep drifted over her, stealthy and silent like a fog that came in off the meadow next to the stables at Longbourn. It caused her weary heart to ache further at the imagining of it, for she was too exhausted to cheer herself out of wretchedness with her usual easy wit and naturally happy disposition.