Elizabeth glanced out of the corner of her eye at the tall man in the far corner of the room who had so earnestly expressed his views to the captain earlier about the lower class citizenry of the passengers. He was unquestionably holding to a position of superiority, as he seemed loath to assemble with the others and make new acquaintances. But there was something else about him that puzzled her. She could not place it at the moment, but his look and posture suggested something else, as well. It intrigued her and she was determined she would figure it out by the time they reached the American shore.
She settled into an easy conversation with a young lady just about her age who was travelling with her husband. Her name was Jenna Michelson, and Elizabeth discovered that when they arrived in America they would make their way to the Dakotas, where her husband’s brother owned some land. Elizabeth listened in awe as Jenna read a letter from her brother-in-law describing the winters there. They would be housebound for days, even weeks on end, when severe snowstorms came upon them.
“And this is your dream, to live in such a place as this?” asked Elizabeth incredulously.
Jenna smiled and nodded softly. “It is the only way. We had no hope for a better life in England. At least here we shall have some land and our own home.”
Elizabeth smiled sympathetically. She was grateful for Longbourn, their modest home, yet knew that unless one of her sisters made a marriage with someone of fortune, they had little hope for much more. With their home entailed to a distant cousin, whom they had never even met because of a family dispute between her father and his father, they could hardly hope that Longbourn would always be there for them.
Jenna interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts. “We saved for years, giving up many things so we could make this trip. For us this trip means everything.” The young friend looked over at the gentleman sitting off by himself. “We sacrificed quite a lot to make this voyage. For that gentleman,” she discreetly motioned toward him, “it was probably no sacrifice at all for him to take this trip.”
Elizabeth, with her eyes turning back to the gentleman, whose impeccable dress and manners more than hinted at his wealth, asked, “Do you know anything about him? His name or where he is from?”
Another woman at the table, a Mrs. Nichols, answered for her. “His name is Darcy, so I hear. Has a home in London and in Derbyshire somewhere.”
Another one answered, “I heard he owns a great estate.”
From across the table, someone added, “No, I think I heard he owns his own castle and allows no one near.”
Elizabeth was amused at the rumours that were already circulating about this man of wealth.
“Perhaps he even owns his own island, or even his own country somewhere,” said another.
Everyone laughed.
“Not a very sociable person,” added Mr. Michelson, “but from the looks of him and his dress he is definitely a man of wealth and therefore has no need for any of us. Almost certainly the only sacrifice he is making in taking this voyage is being in the same room with people he deems beneath him.”
“You are not far from the mark there, Mr. Michelson,” Elizabeth smiled. “I overheard him say to the captain that the women on this ship were not handsome enough to tempt him, and most everyone decidedly beneath his station.”
Michelson added, “I am glad to hear that for the sake of the ladies on this ship. He may have the looks and the wealth to attract any number of ladies, but I would wager that he would consider it a punishment even to speak to any lady on this ship.” He nodded toward a table where a young lady was seated with some other passengers. “Now she has had her eye on him all evening. I would wager that she deems him someone most suitable for herself.”
“Well she looks like she deserves him. But you do not have to worry about me,” Elizabeth stated emphatically. “I believe I can safely promise you never to cast an interested eye in his direction.”
At this, her eyes gave a teasing glance at Darcy just as he looked up to see three sets of eyes upon him. Somehow he suspected that they were talking about him, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench. At times he wished he was more like his outgoing friends… Bingley, for instance, who could speak so easily amongst strangers and would, in very little time, be acquainted with the whole room.
Yet in reality, when Bingley was with him in situations where he had few or no acquaintances, he would watch Bingley circulate about the room while he remained anchored at some window or mantel, unable to keep up with him, unwilling to make the effort. No, having Bingley around did not always help.
Darcy had brought in with him a book to read, but no longer had a desire to remain in here. He knew that in time he would get to know a select few of the passengers, most likely as he found opportunity to speak to them alone. When in the company of one or two, he more often than not could summon up all effort at civility and get through the very basics.
He looked over to the woman who had boldly come up to him earlier, noticing that she was still eyeing him most overtly. If he really wanted to, he could put on a charming façade and a civil demeanour, endure her company, and charm her and her companions. But at the moment, his thoughts were not inclined toward viewing this voyage as something that would offer him any modicum of pleasure or refined enjoyment. He was solely focused on the task at hand: to secure his sister and return home with her. Finally, deciding he needed the solitude of his room, he slid himself out from the bench.
Elizabeth had turned back to her friends and she excused herself, wanting to get back down to steerage before darkness settled across the ship. As she turned toward the door, she again inadvertently collided with Darcy, who was also walking hurriedly in the same direction.
Elizabeth gave a wry smile as she saw whom she had bumped into again. “Perhaps we ought to stop meeting like this, sir. One of us is bound to get hurt!” Her eyes flashed a lively, almost mischievous look his way that caught him off guard and seemed to pull him in and, at the same time, back to some fleeting memory again.
“I would hope not. Again, I apologize.”
He walked on ahead of Elizabeth and she thought, Just as I would expect. He wants to distance himself from the likes of someone like me. He cannot endure being in the presence of one so decidedly beneath him!
But instead of continuing on, when he reached the door, he opened it, stood off to the side, and allowed her to pass through ahead of him. His unexpected action pleasantly surprised her, and at once she regretted her previous thought about him. At least he can choose to display good manners when he wants to , she thought. “Thank you,” she replied and made her way to the stairs that took her down below, wondering at the difficulty she was having in attempting to sketch his character.
Darcy stood still and watched as she left, noticing that she was headed down another flight of stairs. He found himself captivated by her eyes and found it difficult to pull his away. As he finally turned to proceed to his cabin, he had to abruptly divert his direction to avoid encountering yet another woman he determined had planted herself in his path to make certain to attract his attention. His decision to walk completely around the other way to his cabin brought him to it in a most exasperated state.
Chapter 4
As darkness encased the ship, the environment within steerage became markedly bleak. Elizabeth made her way toward her bed and found Mrs. Rawlings still tending to her daughter, Pauline, who felt exceedingly ill. Penelope had fallen asleep in her mother’s bed, and Mrs. Rawlings decided she would sleep on the floor, as she did not want to disturb her sleeping daughter. Moreover, in the state she was in, she would not be able to fit upon the narrow mattress next to her daughter.