“How do we do that?” Mr. Bennet asked.
The colonel’s mind worked through contingencies he had hoped never to need aboard a civilian vessel. “We prepare Miss Bennet and Mrs. Bell to pose as neutral passengers, not British citizens. Mrs. Bell has traveled extensively, so she might coach Miss Bennet in enough basic French to pass casual questioning.”
“Elizabeth speaks fluent French,” Mr. Bennet said. “And if that fails?”
“Then we fight,” Richard said simply. “We cannot win against a French warship, so we fight to buy time to hide or escape.”
The bleak reality of their situation shrouded the small group.
“I shall inform the ladies,” Darcy said after a moment.
“Not yet,” the colonel replied. “Let them enjoy their peace while they may. If the enemy warship draws close enough to threaten us, there will be time enough for fear and preparation.”
Morrison adjusted their heading, chasing every breath of wind to carry them quickly through the dangerous waters. “If this weather holds, we should clear French territorial limits in two days. Once we reach Italian waters, the immediate danger will pass.”
The wind gusted stronger, and Richard felt theMary Catherineheel under the increased pressure. Dark clouds continued to build overhead, promising weather that might help conceal their passage. Unfortunately, it could also slow their escape if they were under pursuit. As it was, whatever lurked in the darkness kept pace with them.
“Sir,” Morrison said. “Whatever happens in the next two days and nights…”
The captain’s apprehension told Richard more clearly than words that it was a French warship behind them. “Captain Morrison, I did not survive three years of French bullets to lose anyone under my protection now.”
Even as he spoke the words with conviction, Richard’s hand moved unconsciously to rest on the pommel of a sword he was not wearing. Long ago, he had learned that confidence was sometimes all that stood between survival and surrender. He would project strength until his last breath, if necessary.
TheMary Catherinesailed on through the darkness, carrying its precious cargo toward whatever fate awaited them in the uncertain waters ahead.
Elizabeth settledherself as comfortably as she could on the small stool in the galley, grateful for the warmth and companionship that surrounded her. The evening had grown tense as they entered French territory, and she sought the comfort of female company instead of dwelling on whatever dangers might lurk beyond the ship’s protective hull.
“Well then,” Prudence said with determined cheerfulness. “I believe it is time that we know each other better.”
For the next several hours, they discussed everything from their youth to their current pleasures. Elizabeth was in the midst of describing her sisters when they were interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps thumping loudly on the deck.
Tommy burst into the room, pale as chalk. “The cap’n sez we got a French warship on our tail.”
Behind him, Darcy appeared in the galley doorway. “Elizabeth, Mrs. Bell, you must gather your essential belongings immediately and move to one of the interior cabins. As Tommy said, a French warship is approaching.”
The words fell into their comfortable conversation like stones into still water, instantly shattering the peaceful atmosphere. The implications struck Elizabeth solidly.
“How close?” Prudence asked as the cook began stowing items on the shelves, tying them into place with ropes stretched over hooks in the wall.
“Close enough that we must take precautions,” Darcy replied. “Captain Morrison suggested the cabin next to the cargo hold. It is currently being emptied of crates. There are no windows, and it can be locked from the inside. You will be safer there until we determine their intentions.”
Elizabeth rose on unsteady legs, her mind reeling in sudden horror at the stark realization of their perilous situation. Their peaceful crossing of the Mediterranean had come to an end.
Early the following morning,the French warship, which had shadowed them until the sun began its slow climb to the horizon, drew closer.
Darcy’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of his fine wool coat, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The expensive fabric felt foreign and accusatory in his grasp as he stripped it away, followed immediately by his embroidered waistcoat. He quickly donned garments borrowed from the boatswain, who was close to his size.
When he got to the deck above, Richard was barking orders in the clipped tones of command. His cousin, too, had changed to rough seaman’s clothing borrowed from the crew.
“Mr. Bennet, remove your watch chain and anything else that might indicate your gentleman’s status. If they board us, we must appear to be nothing more than merchant sailors.”
The older man had gone ashen, but his movements remained steady as he nodded, tucking his gold fob and chain into his pocket. His fingers shook as he pulled off his waistcoat and draped it over his arm. He returned below to stow his garment and reappeared within minutes. “How close are they now?”
“Close enough to make out details through a spyglass,” Darcy replied, rolling up his shirtsleeves with sharp, efficient movements. His forearms felt exposed and strange in the cool morning air. The coarse linen clung to his shoulders, damp with perspiration that had nothing to do with the Mediterranean climate. “Thecaptain believes they are moving to intercept. This appears to be more than a simple patrol.”
He descended to the deck where the ladies were located. “Elizabeth, Mrs. Bell,” he called through the cabin door, his voice rougher than he intended despite his efforts to remain calm. “I need to give you additional instructions.”
The door opened immediately, revealing Elizabeth’s face, pale as moonlight but with steel in her dark eyes that he admired, despite his terror for her safety. Behind her, Mrs. Bell moved with the efficient economy of someone who was familiar with crises at sea.
