He turned politely to her, yet inwardly felt very much otherwise, and nodded. “Miss Brewster.”
“It is such a lovely day, and I particularly recall you enjoy a pleasant walk on deck. Would you mind accompanying me?”
“Thank you, no, Miss Brewster. I have already had an early morning walk, and it is imperative that I speak to the captain directly.”
He excused himself from Miss Brewster and the others, intent on finding Captain Wendell, and leaving Miss Brewster to wonder what she could do to get this man to notice her.
Darcy was pleased to find the captain on deck and free from any imminent responsibilities.
“Good morning, Darcy,” the captain greeted him when he saw him approach.
“Good morning, Captain.”
Wendell eyed him with a suspicion that Darcy was again approaching him with some concern about the ship.
“What is it, Darcy?”
“I understand that there is sickness, a fever spreading through steerage.”
“It is a normal part of the voyage that a few of the weaker passengers come down with something. Unfortunately it does spread more readily in steerage because of the closeness of quarters, the lack of fresh air, and the number of people down there. There is nothing that can be done about it, other than to let it run its course.”
Darcy let out a frustrated sigh, guarding his motivation for asking and seeking a way to bring up Miss Bennet without raising the captain’s suspicions.
“Do you suspect it to be typhoid?”
“At this point we cannot tell. There is one young lady who has taken ill quite unexpectedly and suddenly. It may be a simple case of influenza, but she has been weakened quite dramatically by it, more so than the others.”
Darcy could not hide the alarm on his face. “Who is this woman, Captain?”
“Her name is Mrs. Trimble. She is travelling to America to join her husband who is already there.”
The captain saw a wave of relief pass across his old friend’s face.
“Captain, is there anything that can be done to alleviate the potential for an epidemic breaking out down there among the passengers?”
“Apart from moving everyone out of steerage? No, I am afraid not.”
The captain watched as Darcy nervously rubbed his hands together and wondered whether it was truly a concern for all the steerage passengers or one in particular, having noticed his walks each morning with Miss Bennet.
Darcy was frustrated that he still did not know anything about Miss Bennet and decided to be frank with the captain.
“What do you know of Miss Bennet? I have not seen her yet today, and I know she has been aiding several down there who are unwell. Do you know if she has taken ill herself?”
Captain Wendell looked intently at Darcy, seeing something in his countenance he had never witnessed before. “I understand she has taken ill, as well. Whether it is as severe as Mrs. Trimble’s case, I do not know.”
“Is there any doctor onboard?”
“Not as such. The head cook serves as our doctor. He has training in preparing medicinal remedies. He is aware of the illness and has been doing all he can for those passengers. If I hear anything more, I will let you know.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“Darcy…”
Darcy looked up at the captain. “Yes?”
The captain slowly shook his head. “Never mind,” he sighed and turned to leave. He wondered with grave concern whether he would have to come down hard on the man who owned this ship and who had ultimate authority. Darcy had been spending a vast amount of time with a woman who had been put under his very own protection. He wondered how he would do it. He wondered if he would be able to do it.
Chapter 6
Darcy stood still for a few moments, feeling frustrated and helpless. If diseases like typhoid did come upon this ship, those who were in steerage were the most susceptible because of the living conditions. Elizabeth, who was helping those very people, was at an even greater risk, in view of the fact that she was getting very little sleep. He knew disease was a possibility on every ship, but he felt acutely responsible himself, being the owner of Pemberley’s Promise .
Darcy was pondering the situation when he looked up to see another of his adoring women, Miss Evans, strolling toward him. At the moment, he was feeling anything but civil, giving her only an infinitesimal nod of his head, then turned and quickly returned to his room before she was able to utter a word.
He remained there for some time, trying to read a book but making little progress. They had been just over one week at sea, and had about three more to go. He suddenly slammed his book closed and set it down abruptly on the table.
He felt a restlessness suffuse through his body. He did not know what he wanted to do, but he felt he needed to be out of the confines of this room. He refused to be a prisoner on his own ship.
Perhaps if he went to the dining area he would find out something more. He battled with the thought that it would likely throw him again into the presence of one of those annoying, persistent ladies, and he was in no humour for it. But he did not wish to remain in his room. Hang those blasted women!
After contemplating his options, he finally stood up, opened the door to his room, and walked down the hall, his concern for Elizabeth stronger than his wish to shield himself from unwanted advances.
As he passed by the stairs, he was suddenly put off balance by an unexpected swell that rocked the ship, but he steadied himself easily. Hearing a soft cry for help and the sound of tumbling, he hurried to the stairway and looked down. He was stunned to see that a young lady had lost her footing and tumbled upon the steps. Darcy immediately rushed down the few steps to reach her and bent down. When she looked up in his direction, he saw a very tired and pale-looking Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, are you hurt?”
She let out a meagre smile. “I had to come up and get some fresh air. Perhaps I should not have.”
She reached down and grabbed her ankle. “I believe my ankle turned when the boat listed.”
“Let me help you. You may have broken it or sprained it.”
“No, I will be all right, truly.”
Before she could protest, Darcy reached down and agilely picked her up. “My room is right here. Let me take you there and see what can be done.”
“Please, Mr. Darcy, you do not have to do this.” Her words did not come effortlessly, as being unexpectedly lifted by his strong arms added confusion to her already feverish and foggy mind; more than she wished to acknowledge.
“No, I insist.”
He carried her with ease to his room, calling out to a woman who was passing by. “Could you help us? Please come with me and see to Miss Bennet. She seems to have injured her ankle.”
“I would be glad to,” the woman replied.
They walked into Darcy’s room as Elizabeth struggled to keep her head upright, although the pleasant scent that seemed to emanate from him strongly tempted her to lean her head against him and turn her face into him. He gently placed her on the small bench next to the table. He stood up while the woman, a Mrs. Mullins, as she introduced herself, stooped down to look at the ankle.
“Not to worry, Miss Bennet. I have raised five children, and I have seen many sprains and broken bones in my life.”
Elizabeth reached down to rub her ankle and felt quite foolish that all this attention was being paid to her when it was her fault and she was quite certain there was nothing seriously wrong. She was fighting against the effects of lack of sleep and illness, but was able to glance around the room and notice the relative splendour of Mr. Darcy’s accommodations.
Mrs. Mullins stooped down and addressed Elizabeth as she gently began unlacing her boot. “Where does it hurt, Miss Bennet?”