The air had a salty scent to it; the sound of water lapping against the side of a large object permeated her ears. Elizabeth did not know when she had fallen asleep, but when she woke up, Mr. Darcy was carrying her up a wooden ramp. He had yet to notice that she had awakened in his arms, but when she turned her head to see where she was, she felt herself being set on her feet.
"I apologize, Mrs. Darcy," said Mr. Darcy when she turned her gaze to him. "I did not wish to wake you." Elizabeth did not say anything and looked around at her surroundings, finding herself on a wooden ship. She looked back to where Mr. Darcy was standing, but he was gone, probably having followed the servants to the chambers. She reached the bulkhead of the ship, running a finger over the fine grains, and looked over the edge at the water. Her eyes scanned the surface until she came across something carved into the bulkhead. It looked like something in French, but she could not make it out properly.
"Le... Le Re..." she muttered under her breath.
"Le Rêveur," said Mr. Darcy behind her, and Elizabeth gasped.
"Mr. Darcy! You frightened me!" she exclaimed.
"I apologize, Mrs. Darcy. I should have made my presence known sooner," said Mr. Darcy.
"The name... What does it mean?"
"Le Rêveur? 'The Dreamer' in French."
"Why are we on a French ship?"
"I thought for our honeymoon, you might enjoy the French coast."
"I have never been..."
"Then I believe you will enjoy it very much, Mrs. Darcy." Elizabeth did not respond but instead stood on the deck beside her husband, waiting for the ship to sail. Rather than standing, Mr. Darcy suggested a promenade, and with her arm in his, they circled the deck. Elizabeth would not look him in the eye, as she was still rather upset with him, and she failed to notice the sigh that escaped his lips. They walked in silence for an hour before Elizabeth finally could not stand it any longer.
"Miss Bingley did not talk," she said.
"She did," said Mr. Darcy.
"I heard not a word of gossip, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth.
"Just because she did not gossip to the wrong people does not mean she did not gossip, Mrs. Darcy," said Mr. Darcy.
"Why, whatever do you mean? Who are the right people?" She pulled her arm from his.
"My aunt. Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a rather influential woman that you must not have heard of. She is prominent in higher society."
"And what exactly are you saying, Mr. Darcy?" She was very angry now, and Mr. Darcy closed his eyes for a moment.
"I am not saying anything, Mrs. Darcy. Might we continue our promenade?"
"We may not. You, sir, are the most arrogant, irritating, haughty, conceited creature I have ever had the indecency to meet!"
"My dear Mrs. Darcy, perhaps you must rest. I fear you are still quite the emotional bride."
"Oh, why you rude, proud thing, you..." She stormed away from him and found a crew member, demanding the location of her chamber. He agreed to show her to it, and when she was out of sight, Mr. Darcy leaned against the bulkhead and sighed. He closed his eyes against the wind, trying to pretend that the breeze that was lifting his hair was his Elizabeth's fingers, but he could not. She simply loathed him too much for even the thought to be possible.
Mr. Darcy joined Elizabeth in her chamber for dinner, but she did not eat and was silent the entire time. As Mr. Darcy bid his wife goodnight, she finally spoke. "What about the wedding night?"
"I... I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy?" he asked his wife, rather confused. He was quite unsure if he had heard her properly.
"I said, what about the wedding night?" Elizabeth repeated.
"I... I did not think that you..." Mr. Darcy stumbled over his words, very surprised by her question.
"Who am I to deny you your marital rights, Mr. Darcy?"
"Elizabeth... If you do not want to..."
"I am asking you, am I not, Mr. Darcy? Is it nerves I sense in your tone?" He shook off his surprise.
"Absolutely not. If you would like to... Consummate our marriage, then... Then we shall..." He closed the door to her chamber and returned to her side. "Elizabeth, are you sure?"
"It must be done eventually."
"Dearest, I do not want it to be a chore for you..."
"Mr. Darcy, I am taking your hesitation as nerves."
"I have not a single reason to possess such nerves."
"Your eyes tell a different story." He looked away. "Mr. Darcy, it is all right."
"Mrs. Darcy, I do not think..."
"Mr. Darcy, do tell me you do not fear what most men think of often, whether they are gentlemen or not."
"I do not!"
"Then why display hesitation?"
"I am not!" He stood. "If this is how it will be, then I will not comply. Goodnight, Mrs. Darcy." He strode to the door.
"I never knew Fitzwilliam Darcy to be a coward." He stopped in his tracks, then turned to her, an angry look on his face. Elizabeth was smirking from the delight of tormenting him.
"Very well... Have it your way..."
Elizabeth awoke the next morning with a dull pain in regions she preferred not to think of. She expected to find Mr. Darcy snoozing quietly beside her, but she was rather surprised to not have. She let out a sigh and fell back onto her pillow, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, why, why did I let my curiosity get the better of me?" she asked herself. She most certainly was curious about what went on the marriage bed, and that she could not deny. She did not deny that she found it rather enjoyable either, but she reminded herself of Mr. Darcy's cruel and harsh treatment of her. She rose and, with the help of her lady's maid, dressed to meet her husband on the upper deck.
The skies above her were rather dark and ominous and the wind whipped harshly around her. She was almost surprised when Mr. Darcy took her arm in his. "Mrs. Darcy, I thought I told your lady's maid to keep you in your chamber?" he asked his bride.
"She did not inform me of this, sir," said Elizabeth, her eyes to the sky. "Are we to experience a storm?"
"Perhaps nothing more than devilish wind and a splatter of rain," said Mr. Darcy.
"At least we are not far from land," said Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy brought her hand to his lips.
"My dearest, we have caught strong winds and are much further out to sea than we ought to be. I believe us to be somewhere a few miles off of the coast of Ireland."
"I am sure Ireland is quite nice..."
"Mrs. Darcy, according to our good king, the Irish are swine and dirt unfit for the bottoms of our shoes."
"Perhaps that is not true, Mr. Darcy?"
"I knew an Irishman once who was reliable. They flogged him for it, England did."
"Flogged?"
"I do not wish to open your eyes to such terrors, my Elizabeth." Elizabeth knew that whatever flogging was, it could not have been good. "Have faith in Le Rêveur, my dear Mrs. Darcy." He pressed his lips to her brow. "Come, we can sit on the promenade deck." She followed him to a chair, where he instructed her to sit, and together, they watched the storm develop.
"Mr. Darcy, do you not think we ought to be returning to our chambers?" Elizabeth asked her husband after fifteen minutes.
"Perhaps you should, Mrs. Darcy," said Mr. Darcy.
"And not you?" asked Elizabeth, standing. She almost lost her balance when the ship took to heavy rocking.
"My dear, I beg you to return to your chamber! I shall follow suit shortly!" Mr. Darcy shouted over the wind as the ship tilted in the other direction, forcing Elizabeth back into the chair. She held on tightly while Mr. Darcy flailed his arms to find his balance, and when the ship tilted back, Mr. Darcy fell over the edge, hanging on tightly to the bulkhead.
"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried, running to the bulkhead. She tried so hard to hold onto him, but he let go of her before he pulled her into the sea. The last thing she saw of him were his frightened blue eyes disappearing into the stormy waters below. "Mr. Darcy! No! Someone help! Mr. Darcy has fallen overboard!" A crew rushed to attempt to recover Mr. Darcy from the stormy seas below, and Elizabeth held on tightly to the bulkhead.
"Mrs. Darcy! You must come!" cried a sailor, but Elizabeth ripped herself from his arms.
"No! Not until they recover Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried, grabbing onto the bulkhead again. She watched the waves below, her eyes never leaving the spot where Mr. Darcy had fallen what felt like minutes before, but when Elizabeth felt a tap on her shoulder, she realized that it was dusk and the storm had calmed.
"Mrs. Darcy, I am terribly sorry," said the soldier in a somber tone. "We were unable to recover Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, unable to comprehend exactly what had just happened.
"Un... Unable to... Excuse me, I... I must rest... Mr. Darcy wished for me to rest and... And I must..." said Elizabeth, a blank look on her face. "Do tell my husband where I am if he asks."
"But... Mrs. Darcy, I... I just informed you that we had been unable to recover him..." said the sailor, very confused.
"Surely, you must not be looking in the right places, sir. Mr. Darcy can sometimes be difficult to find," said Elizabeth, and she began her journey to her cabin, the other crew members looking on somberly. "I must be off to bed... Goodnight, all of you."
