Beside him, Colonel Fitzwilliam looked equally travel-worn. Despite his unkempt state, however, he was grinning. His hand hovered protectively near his cousin’s elbow, ready to offer support if needed.
“Oh, no!” she murmured, her previous joy evaporating in the face of this unexpected encounter.
“Miss Bennet,” the colonel called out. “What extraordinarily good fortune to find you here!”
Mr. Darcy looked up at the sound of her name. Where she expected his usual reserve, or even displeasure at the unplanned meeting, she saw the tension go out of him all at once—and in its place, real, unguarded relief.
“Miss Bennet,” he said as he and his cousin made their way down the gangplank. His voice was somewhat hoarse. “I cannot express how glad I am to see you…and Mr. Bennet, of course.”
As he drew closer, Elizabeth noticed more evidence of the toll the voyage had taken. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his movements carried the careful deliberation of someone still fighting off illness.
Her natural compassion overrode any awkwardness about meeting him again. “Your crossing must have been particularly difficult.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam answered for his cousin with frank unease. “Darcy has not kept anything down for the better part of ten days. He is stubborn about admitting it, but he would benefit from more rest and proper food.”
Instead of the satisfaction she expected to feel at the sight of Mr. Darcy brought low, Elizabeth experienced a flutter of actual concern. She reminded herself of all the reasons she should feel indifferent to his plight, but she could not ignore the fact that her new brother, Bingley, held this man in the highest regard, considering him his dearest friend. She would not stand by as Mr. Darcy suffered when she had the means to help.
She stepped forward with decision. “You cannot continue in such a state. My friend, Mrs. Bell, knows of excellent lodgings nearby where you might rest and partake of nutritious food. There is also a bathing house and laundry. I am certain you would benefit from the use of its facilities, as would your clothing.”
Mr. Darcy absorbed the information. “That is exceedingly kind, Miss Bennet. I would not wish to impose?”
Elizabeth’s practical nature took charge. “You are in need, and it would be unconscionable to ignore you in such a condition.”
“You are very good, Miss Bennet,” he said. “I find myself…grateful for your kindness.”
Elizabeth gestured to Prudence, introduced her to the gentlemen, and then performed the office again, formally making her father known to the colonel.
Prudence pointed. “There is a fine inn up the hill that is clean and respectable. The proprietress makes a healing broth that works wonders for upset stomachs. You will be right as rain in a day or two, sir.”
As they organized this impromptu rescue mission, Mr. Darcy caught Elizabeth’s eye repeatedly. Each time, it was as if his weakened condition had stripped away the façade he usually wore.
“Mr. Darcy.” Her father entered the conversation with his usual forthrightness. “My travail with the waves was only slightly better than yours, sir, and Elizabeth is stubbornly determined when she sets her mind to helping someone. I have learned it is futile to argue with her charitable impulses.”
Elizabeth agreed. “You are coming with us, sir. I will accept no argument.”
For the first time in their acquaintance, Mr. Darcy smiled. It was slow and genuine, warm and sincere. And Elizabeth found she had no defenses against it whatsoever.
Who is this man?
“I find myself at your mercy, Miss Bennet.” A note in the inflection of his voice suggested that he did not speak merely of his physical condition.
As they helped him navigate the unsteady transition from ship to shore, Elizabeth wondered if she had been too quick to judge Mr. Darcy’s character. This man accepted help with humble gratitude and exposed his weakness without a hint of arrogance, not at all like the man whose conduct in Hertfordshire had been so objectionable. Yet thiswasthe same man.
There might be more to Mr. Darcy than she had believed possible. The thought intrigued and alarmed her in equal measure.
12
After having endured so many days of helplessness, Darcy responded to Elizabeth’s presence like a beacon of hope. He seized upon her kind manner when she addressed him as a favorable opening upon which he could build.
Thiswas why he loved her. Not only for her beauty, though she was lovelier than ever with the sun catching the auburn lights in her hair. Not for her wit, though her easy command of a few Portuguese words revealed yet another facet of her remarkable mind. It wasthis—her immediate, instinctive compassion for someone in need. She had the inherent ability to set aside personal considerations when confronted with suffering.
He was acutely aware of his appearance. A week and a half without proper facilities had left him looking like a vagabond. Never had he felt less prepared to encounter the woman whose good opinion he most desired to win. His beard itched. Yet Elizabeth seemed completelyunconcerned with his appearance. Darcy could have kissed her feet in gratitude.
Mr. Bennet led him to a nearby bench with gentle firmness. “My daughter has made herself quite an expert in the art of recovery from sea voyages. I confess that she has fared better than either of us.”
As Darcy sank gratefully onto the bench, he stole glances at the woman who had occupied his thoughts during every waking moment of their voyage. Whatever she had been doing in Porto had agreed with her. When she sat beside him, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of lavender soap and sea air that clung to her travel gown, he had his chance, perhaps his only chance, to show her who he was beneath the pride and reserve that had alienated her before.
“Thank you. Your help means more than I can express.” Their gaze met, and he tried to convey everything he could not yet say aloud.
