Darcy was mesmerized. Those who opposed the waltz as indecorous would have suffered apoplexy to witness such an openly seductive and powerful dance. Elizabeth was stunning, twirling and clapping. She learned quickly.
The fiddler began playing again, and the crew rushed forward to claim dances with the ladies. Darcy stepped forward to break up the pushy crowd, but Alex promptly flicked one man over her shoulder, sending him sprawling over the deck with a loud groan.
Elizabeth looked at her in awe. “Can you teach me how to do that?”
Darcy’s heart leapt in his throat, a mix of panic and pride.
Alex, who now had several feetof empty space around her, gestured to her crew. “Which of ye fine men’ll volunteer?”
Nobody stepped forward. With a sigh, Darcy offered himself. “I will.”
The shock on Elizabeth’s face was reward enough for what was sure to come. He would volunteer himself a hundred times over just to see that expression again.
He arched his eyebrow, trying to control his smile. “Why should I not?” He took delight in ruffling her as thoroughly as she had effortlessly done so many times in the months of their acquaintance.
Her lips twitched. “Are you not afraid, Mr. Darcy?”
He was just a little afraid (he had seen what had happened to the last fellow, who only now was able to rise to his feet), but Darcy would never admit it.
Alex called Jaffa over, and Elizabeth paid rapt attention as the movement was described and again demonstrated. Jaffa, knowing what to expect, landed on his feet, unharmed.
“Now, ye do the same with Darcy. We’ll start with a more common maneuver, and then I’ll show ye how to flip a man twice yer size over yer head,” Alex said. “Most’ll go for yer wrists when they’re tryin’ to grab ye,” she added, nodding at Jaffa to come at her.
He grabbed her wrist.
“If he tugs me forward, I’ll fall right into him. But look at this when I turn to the side.” Alex shifted her weight to the side and Jaffa tugged. She did not budge. “We’re smaller, so we must use the weight of our bodyto advantage.” She looked at Elizabeth pointedly, only continuing when her student nodded her understanding.
“Good. Now, ye try,” Alex ordered.
Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s wrist, and she promptly shifted her feet to the side. He tugged, but she did not move. So much for the embrace he had hoped for.
Next, Alex showed Elizabeth how to move in and raise her arm to free her wrist from her captor’s grip.
Darcy did not believe the efficiency of the movement until Elizabeth pulled her wrist free of his firm hold with ease. He moved around her, testing her in growing amazement from different angles, and every time, Elizabeth gained her freedom within seconds. She was amazing.
“Now that ye’ve mastered that, let’s move on to the more diverting maneuver.” Alex rubbed her hands together. She talked Elizabeth through the motion, moving her into position under Alex’s shoulder and using the angle as leverage. Seeing the move up close and in slow motion, Darcy’s unease abated. The sailor Alex had flipped over was a topman, not much taller than she was. Given the disparity in their heights and size, Darcy grew confident as the danger to his person diminished.
He encouraged Elizabeth, for he would never discourage any lady from defending herself should it become necessary. If anything, he anticipatedElizabeth teaching Georgiana what she was learning. He would love nothing more than to see the Wickhams of the world thrown onto their backsides by the very ladies on whom they preyed. It would serve them right.
Darcy would play along. He would allow Elizabeth to believe herself the victor if it increased her courage … not that she needed Darcy’s help for that. She was already the most courageous lady of his acquaintance.
Jaffa stood by Alex, and Darcy watched him intently with the aim of imitating how gracefully he flipped in the air to land on his feet.
Bowing to Elizabeth, Jaffa said, “You are ready for a larger opponent.”
With his blessing, Elizabeth turned to Darcy, the wide smile of pleasure narrowing into a thin line of resolved concentration.
Darcy moved forward, and Elizabeth expertly whipped around under his shoulder. The heady whiff of lilacs in her hair was still in his nostrils when Darcy realized he was upside down, flying through the air. He landed inelegantly on his side on the ground, his breath effectively knocked out of him … in more ways than one.
Hoots and hollers pierced Darcy’s consciousness as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. “Now, there be a fine lass!” a sailor shouted.
Elizabeth’s knees bent before his eyes, and her face hovered before his. “Fitzwilliam! Did I hurt you? Are you well?”
A deep voice cackled bawdily. “Give ‘em a kiss, lass! That’ll put him to rights!”
Darcy finally caught his breath. Pulling himself up to his elbow, he said as loudly as he could, “A lady deserves better than to be kissed in front of you scurvy savages.”
Elizabeth heaved a sigh and, to his initial consternation, she offered him a hand up. “Come on, Fitzwilliam. We are equal partners now.” Her eyes brimmed with mischief, and he knew she would not hesitate to use the same maneuver on him again if he ever got out of line. The prospect was equally disturbing and thrilling. She had delivered a masterful blow to his manly pride, but he was too pleased with her accomplishment to dwell on his loss. She was right. They were equals. In mind, in birth, and in strength.
