“You are not all right,” Elizabeth said as she reached him. “Let me help you.” She easily took hold of the dry shirt he had been attempting to reach and then turned to look at him. “Can you unfasten your shirt?” she asked.
He tried to untie his neckcloth with his unhurt hand, using his injured arm as little as possible. Elizabeth watched with the expectation that she would help if he needed her assistance, although in this area she wondered whether her fingers would be a help or a hindrance to him as they had begun to shake nervously. As he began to undo the buttons to his shirt, she forced herself to look away.
As much as she would have liked to approach this circumstance in a very practical, unemotional way, her heart’s pounding and her rising tide of feelings began to overpower her. That he was hurt almost made him more vulnerable, more desirable. She suddenly felt that she would be very happy taking care of this man until they were old and grey. But she halted that thought immediately, knowing it would not do any good to think about things that were not to be.
As her thoughts were engaged in this direction, Darcy attempted to remove his shirt, and Elizabeth was stirred from her reverie by another groan of pain from him. The pain in his arm was such that he could not manoeuvre the shirt down off his arms, and he looked helplessly at Elizabeth.
“I am sorry, but I do not seem able to accomplish this. My arm is causing me a great deal of pain.”
Elizabeth positioned herself behind him and calmly responded, “Drop both of your arms down by your side.” When he did so, she gently took the shirt by the collar, her fingers lightly brushing his neck, and brought it down along his long arms and slid it off. She was glad she was situated behind him, as this simple action and the sight of him shirtless from the back caused some unexplainable stirrings within her and a very noticeable blush across her face.
She quickly fumbled for the dry shirt and lowered the sleeve so he could easily move his hurt arm into it, and then she brought it around and he was able to slide his other arm into it as well without any problem.
Darcy felt her breath on the back of him, and the very slight touch of her fingers upon his neck produced an involuntary shiver. When she slid his shirt off, he thought how different it was to have a woman do the same task that Durnham had done throughout the years. He enjoyed this much more than he should have allowed himself to.
Once the dry shirt was on, he quickly reached up with his good arm and nimbly began buttoning the buttons one-handed. An awkward silence had enveloped them, and his jaw tightened as he considered that Elizabeth must feel exceedingly uncomfortable.
“Thank you for your help, Elizabeth. I would not have wished to cause you any uneasiness.”
He spoke softly and with much gratitude.
Elizabeth drew herself around from behind. “I only did what I knew I must.”
She sat aside him, marvelling at the goodwill that had come to exist between them in just the last week. The ship suddenly tipped again violently, and she fell against him, causing him to reach out for her with his good arm, and he planted his sore arm against the floor for stability.
Another groan escaped him, and Elizabeth apologized profusely. “Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry.”
He looked down at her, not wanting to let her go. “Elizabeth, do you not think we have been through enough together, that even when we are alone you can call me by my given name?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and blushed. When she found herself unexpectedly wanting to draw nearer to him, she became more intent on reverting to formalities in addressing him.
“Mr. Darcy, we are almost at the end of our voyage. I think it best we keep things between us as we agreed.” He was still holding her when she met his eyes. “Our marriage is on paper only.”
Darcy sighed softly and released her. His idea to marry her solely for the duration of the voyage had indeed caused him greater consternation than if he had allowed himself to be tormented this past month by all the single women, their mothers, and their fathers, and all the other matchmakers and fortune hunters onboard this ship. He had fallen in love with Elizabeth, and it was clear that she did not love him in return. On paper only . That was certainly not how he felt toward her now.
Mustering all the strength he had to keep from succumbing to the storm of emotions that were erupting within, he calmly and deliberately spoke. “The captain said it would be wise to sleep on the floor, as a storm such as this will even throw one out of bed. We need to bring the bedding down to the floor for the night.” He looked around the room, much as Elizabeth had done earlier.
“There is not much room…” He looked over to the space between the two beds. “This is probably the best place for us to sleep tonight. There really is not any other room on the floor.” He tried to control his voice to sound calm, rational, and not at all ruffled, which was not at all what he was feeling. “With the dresser drawers underneath the bed, that will give us some stability from the rocking and keep us from sliding all over the floor.”
Elizabeth looked over to the small area. It was certainly long enough for them to stretch out in, but suddenly it seemed very narrow. “Yes, it seems to be the wisest,” she reluctantly agreed.
Darcy looked at her and recognized the look of discomfort written across her face. “Perhaps it would be best if I sleep over there. I could easily sit against the wall behind the table… if you prefer.”
“No, no,” she stammered. “I could not allow you to do that. We are both adults.” How she wished she did not sound so nervous. Then, in almost a whisper she added, “We are, after all, married.”
Darcy’s chest suddenly constricted and his jaw tightened as he heard her speak those words so dispassionately. He looked into her eyes and saw the pain. Does she really regret this marriage that much? he asked himself. “There is not much more we can do. We might as well try to make ourselves as comfortable as we can.”
As the ship continued its relentless rocking, they both began to pull the blankets off their beds. There was room for only one mattress on the floor, and Darcy pulled it off of his bed. Elizabeth pulled two blankets off her bed, one to go underneath her and one to cover her. She scooted as closely as she could to the dresser on her side, and lay her head down on her pillow. The room was dark now, except for the frequent flashes of lightning that ripped across the sky, lighting up the room through the tiny window. There seemed little likelihood of them falling asleep any time soon, with the clamouring of the forces of nature outside as well as in. The rumble of the thunder, the howling wind, and the crashing of the waves against and over the boat seemed to take their toll on the ship in addition to their nerves, as did the rising tide of their feelings.
Earlier, Elizabeth’s fear had propelled her to do something. She had tried to secure everything that was not bolted down so it would not fall over or come crashing down. Then she had set her mind on helping Darcy after he hurt himself. But now, as there was nothing to do but listen to the tumultuous sounds and feel the assault on the ship as it laboured and strained, her fear began to spiral, as the storm seemed to be intensely overpowering and growing in severity by the minute. With each pitch of the ship, Elizabeth grabbed either the mattress, the dresser, or the floor itself, hoping it would keep her in her place.
But as the ship rocked and swayed, as it creaked and groaned, there was little either could do to keep themselves settled in one place. More often than not, Elizabeth either slid into Darcy as the boat tipped his way, or he slid into her when it tipped the other way. The worst of it occurred when the boat encountered a wave head-on. The fore of the ship would rise up, and then come crashing down violently.
There was little chance that they could grow accustomed to the constant swaying, dipping, and crashing down, but they lay there together, each consumed by their own thoughts and feelings. At one sudden, very strong jolt of the ship, Elizabeth cried out as she was pelted against Darcy. He immediately wrapped his arm around her, driven by a protective instinct, but he let it remain there out of a selfish desire to feel her in his arms.