Fleeing England.Her home.Her life had been overturned and near destroyed.A peer of the land wanted her judicial murder.There was so much wrong.
Yet with the man standing next to her sharing this beautiful clear night, Elizabeth felt as happy as she had that night with her father.
*****
As it happened Elizabeth did notstayso happy the entire night.
Not long after they hit the open sea, the far worse rocking of the boat proved to Elizabeth that she did not at present have her seastomach.
She’d been persuaded by Darcy to go into the galley where it was far warmer from those clever stoves that allowed sailors to heat the inner space and cook their food in the shaking seas without more than the slightest chance of lighting the tarred and oiled wooden decks aflame.
Within moments of entering the warm (comparatively) room in the back part of the ship — the stern, as the almost offended sailor firmly explained when shecalledit the back part — Elizabeth was offered a cup of hot grog as a proper welcome to a real ship.
The story had gone round the ranks of what she had done to the earl, and her use of violence both reduced the usual distance and deference men, especially men of a lower class, treated a lady with, and at the same time meant they thought of her with deeper real respect.
Elizabeth sat on her rolling seat next to Darcy and she half closed her eyes.She calmly sipped the grog and listened.She was terribly tired and cold from the day, and happily relaxed in a warm room with Mr.Darcy seated next to her.
Unfortunately when three minutes had passed from when the rocking of the ship increased enormously, she began to feel quite uneasy, and her skin became clammy and she felt dizzy.
Elizabeth shut her eyes, and wished the sensation away with all her power.
Something spun about her.She did not feel right.She pressed her hand against her sweat beaded forehead.
“Lizzy, Lizzy.Are you well?Jove, I should not have let you stand out so long.Not after your illness.You are so pale.”
Elizabeth clenched her hand to her stomach and stood.“I think I may be relapsing.I feel terrible.Though not like a fever.”
Darcy pressed her forehead.“No fever,” he said in a relieved voice.
The sailor who had given Elizabeth the grog cackled.“Ain’t nothing but a landsman’s stomach.You can beat up a gentleman, but can’t handle our lady the sea.But ain’t nothing to worry about.You’ll be sick today, but well tomorrow.”
Elizabeth nodded.She pressed her hand to her mouth, and her stomach churned inside.
“Outside, lady.Best off thesternside of the ship.Don’t want to hurl out when the wind is blowin’ in your face.That be right unpleasant.You believe me.”
Elizabeth believed him.
She hurried out back onto the cold deck, with Darcy holding her hand and helping to guide her.She saw the side of the deck and ran, noting from the corners of her eyes at least two dozen sickly pale men from General Fitzwilliam’s regiment leaning over the railings and staring sickly out at the sea as if life had betrayed them unexpectedly.
She barely reached the edge when the vomit hurled out.And then the acid came up again, and out.
Her throat burned from the pain of that.She stared out at the sea behind them, the sliver of the moon high in the air.The deck lanterns of another ship swung perhaps half a mile away.Her forehead was so cold and sweaty but she did feel much better with all of that out of her stomach.
Why did anyone ever voluntarily go sailing ifthiswas considered a natural and normal part of the process?
A thick horse-hair blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and then, after a moment of hesitation, Darcy put an arm around her, holding her against his side.“Elizabeth, do you feel better?”
She took in deep shuddering breaths, and then turned to smile at Darcy.“A little.”
He handed her his handkerchief, and she gratefully wiped around the edges of her lips, getting rid of any remains.She could not see his eyes and could barely see his face in the flickering light of the lantern.But his arm was strong and warm, and she was very glad he was here with her.She snuggled closer to his body and closed her eyes.
“Can’t go back inside yet,” she said.“Need the cold breeze, better than the sick stomach feeling.”
Darcy murmured something soft and comforting, and held her close.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, and she concentrated with each breath on Darcy’s strong manly scent as it mingled with the salty wind.
Darcy kissed the top of her head, and he whispered something to himself that Elizabeth could not hear.But the sound of his voice made her, as he always made her, happy.
