He did not reply but promptly poured more coffee into her cup once she set it down.
The man wore a curved sword at his side, and despite her success averting her eyes, she could not help but notice how strong he was. And yet, she did not feel threatened by him. In fact, she was quite at ease. Remnants of whatever she had been drugged with?
She had many questions, and Elizabeth knew she would get more answers if she was polite to her captor. Thanking him, she asked, “Where are you from, Mr. Jaffa?”
“It is only Jaffa, Miss. I am from the North of Africa, where the Nilefloods the delta.”
A place she would love to know more about … later. “Why am I here?” Her heart leapt into her throat, and the tray rattled as she shifted. “What day is it?”
“It is Friday, Miss.”
Lydia’s wedding! Had she missed it? Had Lydia married Wickham? Or had Elizabeth’s disappearance thrown her family into another panic? They would be frantic with worry. Poor Papa! Poor Aunt and Uncle!
Elizabeth had no way of knowing if it was that same Friday or a week after. She looked through the window as though that might supply an answer but saw only a spot of blue. She clutched her fingers into a fist. How would she find Mr. Darcy out here? She did not know whereherewas.
She had been standing by her father reading the broadsides, hoping to find information about Mr. Darcy, and the next thing she knew, she was being dragged into a carriage. The memory brought back the sweet smell of whatever had been on the handkerchief held over her mouth and nose. And then, the bitter taste of laudanum.
Elizabeth reached for her coffee, the strong liquid burning the recollection away. Her captors could not have drugged her for an entire week. Which meant that they had either gone East or South to get to the ocean.
“It is mid-afternoon. You have been resting after an arduous journey and must be greatly fatigued,” Jaffa explained, nodding at the small, round window.
The door opened, and Jaffa moved to the side, closer to Elizabeth.
A beautiful woman with raven black hair and striking blue eyes smiled at her. She wore a silk shirt with more ruffles and lace than even Mama or Lydia would wear and trousers that fit her like a second skin tucked into boots that reached her knees.
“Ye’re awake. I’ve been impatient to meet ye.” Her voice was firm and not unwelcoming. Elizabeth could not place her accent. It sounded like a combination of every accent Elizabeth had ever heard, which were, admittedly, few enough.
“How do you know me? Where am I?” she asked.
“Ye’re aboard me ship, theFancy. Don’t let me presence keep ye from eatin’. Ye’ll need yer strength out here.”
“How did I get here?”
The woman shrugged. “The usual way. Startin’ at The Swan with Two Necks on Lad Lane to Bagshot, nearly thirty miles. Another change of horses at Alton, again at Alresford. Then, finally, Southampton. Seventy-eight miles overland, then a small fishing vessel that brought ye right to theFancy.”
Off the coast of Southampton? While Elizabeth would never wish to repeat the trip, she did wish she might have seen some of the scenery. “What kind of ship is this?”
Alexandra smirked. “Today, we’re ambitious merchants with a hold full of cotton.Tomorrow, we might be privateers representin’ whichever country is most convenient. I’ve several letters of Marque from which to choose. Perhaps we’ll be corsairs returnin’ to the Mediterranean or buccaneers lookin’ for a Spanish ship to take. One must be adaptable with the British Navy lurkin’ about.”
Elizabeth shivered. “You are a pirate.”
Longbourn was far away from the threat of pirates, but she had read stories. She recalled the tales she had heard and wondered if they could be true. Most of them were terrifying.
The lady pirate sat at the foot of Elizabeth’s bed. Reaching forward, she plucked a piece of sausage from Elizabeth’s plate and tossed it into her mouth. The woman who counted as she chewed did not look like the sort of person who had carved the beating heart out of a victim’s chest.
As though she had read Elizabeth’s thoughts, Alexandra locked eyes with her and, shoving the wad of half-chewed sausage into her cheek, she asked, “Are ye frightened? Ye don’t look afraid.”
Elizabeth was grateful for that when, in truth, she was more afraid than she had ever been in her life. Calmly, she replied, “Ladies feel many things they train themselves not to show.” She considered how she would fare defending herself with the dull butter knife and fork … until she saw a second dagger hiding under one of the folds of lace at her captor’s side.
Alexandra smiled at Jaffa. “I knew I was right tobring her here.” She covered her hand over her mouth and cast a look so repentant, Elizabeth had to stifle the urge to laugh. “I know I’m not supposed to speak with me mouth full of food, but I can’t quite figure out how I’m supposed to carry on a conversation during a meal. If I chew like I’m told a lady does, I’ve forgotten what I meant to say by the time I can finally swallow.”
“It helps to take smaller bites.”
“That’s what he tells me, but I’d die of hunger before I could complete a sentence, what with all that chewin’. I don’t know how ye do it, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth had not given Alexandra leave to use her Christian name or to eat from her plate, but she trusted her instincts enough to know not to insist on propriety. The woman wore two daggers that Elizabeth could see and who knew what else that she could not see. She was not about to criticize Alexandra’s manners when she was the prisoner-guest. “What am I to call you?” she asked.
“Me friends call me Alex, but ye can call me what ye like. I know the circumstances which brought ye here are suspect, but it’s me hope that we’ll become fast friends. Ye’re me guest while ye’re aboard theFancy, and I mean to help ye feel comfortable. How’s yer stomach? Lots of folks get bilious out at sea. I had Jaffa put a bucket by ye, in case.”
