She lay there still, suddenly feeling very safe in his arms. The thunderous beating of her heart competed with the sounds of the storm outside. Whether it was simply fear or the fact that she was now being held tightly in his arms, she was not sure. But she had this very strong assurance that while in his arms, no harm would befall her.
Despite her overwhelming sense of fear, she became aware of some other feelings that were awakening within her. It was more than just a sense of being protected by this man. There was a yearning inside her to draw closer to him. A stirring within that she had never experienced. She wished to be able to turn toward him and bury her head in his chest. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing away these thoughts and feelings. He was not really hers to think about. Her regard toward him that had been growing these last few days could never be reciprocated. She took in a deep breath to steady the overwhelming feeling of despair that began to overtake her. But it was not enough to prevent a tear from escaping her eye and travelling down her face.
She had two pictures in her mind, and neither of them was at all pleasant or desirable. The first was that the ship would not make it through the storm this night and they would all perish, being lost at sea. The second was that they would make it through the storm, and once the ship pulled into the harbour in America and they left the ship, she would never see him again. As the ship violently rose and fell, the thought came to her that perhaps she wished for the former. For in that case, they would at least be in each other’s arms for eternity.
All the while, Darcy closed his eyes as he considered how right it felt to have his arm wrapped around Elizabeth. If it were not for the extremely dangerous and trying conditions they were in, and the violent rocking and swaying of the ship, he knew he was in danger of another kind; that is, overstepping his bounds with her and breaking the agreement they made for the conditions of this marriage. He was not sure how he would survive an entire night with Elizabeth by his side, without struggling with the temptation she presented.
After lying awkwardly in silence, stirred both by heightened feelings in the midst of the storm waging outside and in, Darcy attempted to engage Elizabeth in conversation, if nothing more than to take his mind off her discomfiting proximity, since neither of them would be able to sleep anyway.
“Did you ever finish your sampler, Elizabeth?”
“Why, yes, I did.” She lifted her head and looked around as if she suddenly realized that she did not know where it was, even though in the darkness she would not have seen it.
“I should like to see it now that it is finished.”
Elizabeth smiled, knowing this was a very meagre, but appreciated, attempt to keep her mind off the storm.
Attempting to keep their minds engaged on other things, he asked, “And may I inquire what other accomplishments you employ while you are not sailing across the oceans of the world?”
Another round of violent swells delayed her answer, as she gripped tightly to him, but she smiled. “You know I enjoy reading, I do a little sewing, enjoy singing, and play the pianoforte, but very ill indeed.”
“Those are delightful diversions.” He spoke the words softly, but the reaction Elizabeth had was almost as if he had screamed them.
Her eyes opened widely in an acute sense of stark realization.
Delightful diversions! The very same words the gentleman in the carriage two years ago had said!
She stared into the darkness, the room flashing with light from the bolts of lightning outside, and she suddenly recalled the image of the man who, for several months after their encounter, never left her thoughts! Her heart tightened and she suddenly felt as if she could not catch her breath, tightly closing her eyes as she deliberated this disclosure.
Suddenly it all became very clear! She knew why he had seemed so familiar! Those fleeting memories that she could not pull to the surface since she first saw him on the ship were from that carriage ride, the gentleman sharing the ride with her, and the following months that held her captive to his memory.
He had uttered those exact words when, as a young, impetuous eighteen-year-old, she told him how she had recently climbed a tree and fallen from it, spraining her ankle. She had thought he was mocking her behaviour, but in the course of their time in the carriage, she found him to be quite engaging, very attentive, and effortlessly charming.
For weeks and months following the carriage ride, she found herself repeating those words at every opportunity as a reminder of her short time with him. “Mary is reading Fordyce’s Sermons! Delightful diversion for her!” or “Jane! Guess what! We are going to visit Aunt and Uncle Gardiner!” What a delightful diversion that shall be!
And when she and Jane would talk about life and love into the wee hours of the morning, Elizabeth could only talk of him. For months, she talked of her “Mr. Wright,” the man whose name was unknown to her, but seemed so right for her.
At length the memory of that day had faded. As months passed into years, she no longer was able to draw up an image of what the gentleman looked like, or what his voice sounded like that had been so pleasing to her ears.
Her thoughts assaulted her. Could he really be the same man? It was as if she suddenly remembered everything very clearly! It was him! The man who visited her in her dreams in the past week was both Mr. Wright and Fitzwilliam Darcy! The same man! She simply had no idea.
She hoped that he would not sense her discomposure. At least in the darkness of the room she could hide her face of shock and make a futile attempt to still her shaking fingers. At once, all those little episodes trying to recall a vague memory made sense—her colliding with Mr. Darcy that first day, feeling that she had been on the receiving end of this proud man’s praise once long ago. She took a deep breath as she tried to gather her thoughts.
She knew that now she would have an even greater struggle getting off this ship without him. If she could not forget the man with whom she only spent a couple of hours, how could she ever forget the man who had posed as her very own husband over the course of several weeks?
Elizabeth was rendered silent by this realization, and Darcy, receiving no further response from her, assumed she was in no mood to talk. Their conversation for the night ceased.
For several hours the storm continued mercilessly with wind, rain, and occasionally hail battering the ship. In the early morning hours, the storm gradually weakened, and Darcy and Elizabeth fell into a sound sleep. Darcy awoke a few hours later and discovered his arm still protectively wrapped around her. She had turned in the night and her head was snuggled deeply against his chest and her arm wrapped securely around his waist. He could only see her when the occasional flash of distant lightning lit the room. She was beautiful, and he found it exceedingly difficult to remove his eyes from her.
Her hair was splayed around his arm and he found himself anxiously waiting for each successive bolt of lightning off in the distance to light up the small cabin so he could better see her. How he wanted to comb his fingers through her hair, caress her face with his hand, kiss her lips.
Darcy lay very still, but his heart pounded mercilessly. When Elizabeth moved in her sleep and drew herself up against his chest, Darcy gave in to the temptation, leaned his head over, and gently kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger there. He wanted to draw her into a fervent embrace, but that kiss would have to suffice for the time being. He lay there for some time, listening to every breath she took, sensitive to every slight movement she made, and breathing in the flowery scent of her hair from the toilet water she most likely sprinkled in it.