Earlier in the evening, but after Elizabeth had returned to steerage, Darcy entered the dining area, book in hand. As his eyes quickly scanned the room, he looked for a suitable place to sit, but in reality he was seeking out a particular young lady. Being unable to locate her, he settled for a table off to the side that had some room on the end of one of the benches. There were other people sitting there, a family, but since none of the women he had been trying to avoid were anywhere near, he decided to settle himself there. From where he was sitting he was also able to keep an eye toward the door, enabling him to see who walked in.
Seated with him were a middle-aged gentleman, his wife, and their two sons. Mr. Jennings made the introductions to his wife and sons. Darcy did not need to worry about making any kind of effort in conversing with his dining partners, as Mr. Jennings seemed content to carry on quite admirably himself, with Darcy only making an occasional sound of agreement or nod of his head. Mrs. Jennings occasionally looked at him with a somewhat embarrassed look as her husband carried on, but she contributed very little to the discourse. Darcy was content to sit and tune out the endless chattering of this man while his mind was solely preoccupied with one particular lady whom he was hoping to see tonight.
If he had only to put up with Mr. Jennings’s droning monologue, he would have been able to endure the evening. As the evening grew later, however, his frustration increased as he was not allowed to be content just sitting—had not even been able to pick up his book—but was approached by several others requesting him to join them in their table games, or conversation, or a smoke or drink. He was easily suspicious of their reasons for singling him out for company. He politely declined, knowing he would not be able to concentrate on anything but where she might be tonight.
She, the vivacious woman with the fine eyes, did not come up at all that he could see. Instead of his thoughts being able to dwell on her, he was continually assaulted with the presence of those whose sole objective was to make sure this man took notice of them.
After enduring only what he could while still remaining civil, he finally excused himself from those around him, grasping book in hand, and retreated to his room for the remainder of the evening.
***
The next morning, as soon as sunlight poured down through the hatch, Elizabeth awakened. She was not sure how much she had slept, but by the way she felt, she knew it had again been insufficient. There were only a few others in steerage who had awakened. She slowly pulled herself up and began readying herself for another day, remembering to offer up a prayer for the Lord to continue to watch over them.
Once she came up on deck, she breathed in the fresh air. How invigorating just a breath of fresh air made her feel. The staleness of the air down below seemed intent on taking away any morsel of energy she had, but up here she felt alive and revitalized, despite her lack of sleep.
She began walking, up one side of the ship and back on the other. She walked briskly, watching the sailors man the sails and attend to their morning chores and looking out to the vast sea, hoping to catch sight of the dolphins that she had heard often could be seen soaring alongside the ship. She quickly plotted out the best course along the deck to avoid the obstacles scattered throughout.
After having walked up and back a couple of times, she became aware of someone walking behind her. Thinking it was a crewman, she stepped over toward the right so she would be out of his way and he could pass. At length that person’s strides brought him to her side. But instead of passing her, he slowed his pace and began walking alongside of her. She glanced over, surprised to see that it was Mr. Darcy.
She was not sure whether he seemed surprised to see her when she turned her head, but he did appear uncertain about what to say.
Never to be at a loss for words or intimidated by wealth or rank, Elizabeth greeted him. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy! Pleasant morning for a walk.”
“Yes it is.” They both continued in their stride and he looked at her oddly. “It is apparent you know my name, but I am at a loss to know yours.”
For some inexplicable reason her heart made a tiny erratic leap as he inquired about her name. It went undetected by Darcy, however, and she answered, “Please forgive me. I overheard someone mention your name the other day, Mr. Darcy. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy glanced down at her. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet.”
They turned their attention to their walk, and after a brief silence, Darcy asked, “They mentioned me? And what precisely did they say?”
Elizabeth cast a glance up at him, a single eyebrow briefly arching. A smile crept across her face, recalling the rumours that people were spreading about him.
“I believe, sir, that one person claimed you owned your own castle.”
“Is that so?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I am afraid it is, Mr. Darcy. It was settled that you almost certainly own a large estate, a castle, an island, or, I might add, possibly your own country. I am surprised no one thought of the likelihood that you might also own this ship!”
Darcy tensed as she made this last remark, but realized by the smile on her face that she was saying it in jest. “What do you think?” he asked.
She pondered whether to tell him what her opinion of him was, which was based on what she overheard him say that first day. “What I think is of no importance. And it is no one’s business but your own, at any rate.”
He turned his eyes forward, feeling fairly secure that word had not leaked out of his ownership of Pemberley’s Promise . The two walked practically in step. Elizabeth felt awkward that he most likely felt obligated to remain with her as they continued, given that they were the only two passengers up on the deck. They had walked nearly the full length of the ship before he was to speak again.
“May I inquire, Miss Bennet, have you worked out the sleeping arrangements in a satisfactory manner?”
She turned to look up at him, almost as surprised that he remembered as that he was asking about it.
“Unfortunately no. The woman to whom I gave my bed is now ill, and I could not, in good conscience, ask for it back. So I find myself sleeping on the floor again. It is of no consequence. I have done it often enough at home.”
She detected a deep, aggravated sigh from him, but he said nothing. His only response was to bring up his hand and brusquely rub his chin.
He did not make further effort to converse with her, and seemed lost in thought as they walked. She cast a furtive glance up at him to see if she could detect whether he was irritated by her presence, oblivious to it, or took any sort of pleasure in it. She was certain it was not the latter, but was hard-pressed to discern which of the other two it was.
They walked another two lengths of the ship in silence, Elizabeth pondering why he felt he must remain with her if he had no intention of talking with her, other than about the sleeping conditions in steerage.
But if she was surprised by his earlier question, she was astonished by his next comment.
“I did not see you up in the dining area last night.”