Wow, sooty, that was quite the report! like elizabeth smelling ice and aborting the whole collision! although defo to caro getting hit by flying ice! still mulling over caros fate, although the opinion is unanimous, which does elicit my author sympathies! ;)

anyway, everyone loves some fireworks!...

...

Saturday April 13th, 1140, Exactly 24 hours until iceberg.

...

Elizabeth walked with Darcy up the grand staircase to A deck. Darcy led her out on to the covered promenade deck and proceeded towards the stern. At this time the chairs were folded neatly back against the wall, leaving more space for strolling couples. Although there were not many of them. On this deck the first class promenade ran the full length of the Titanic and Elizabeth could see there was only one other couple braving the night air.

Glad for her coat, for the air was glacial and piercing, she set a brisk pace but was amused to see Mr Darcy keep up with her easily. They made it all the way down towards the stern part of the first class covered promenade, which overlooked the roof of the second class smoke room, one floor below. They were about to turn the corner of the palm court when he stopped and spoke.

"In vain I have struggled, it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I realise that we have only known each other a few days and that I sound very precipitous in declaring myself thus. My family and friends will no doubt question why I have acted hastily, but it cannot he helped. I have come to realise that a delay is fruitless and with our destination being so close I had to speak. You are, without a doubt, the most intelligent and interesting person of my acquaintance and I cannot go longer without ensuring that you are mine."

Elizabeth almost liked that last sentence, until it sounded like he was a spoilt child wanting a shiny new toy. How long before he would discard her? Not that she would even consider accepting a proposal from him. She was not left to her reminiscing on his language for he had more to say.

"I am acutely aware of the disparities in our stations and I know that I will be censured for my in-laws if they continue to act in the unchecked and embarrassing manner I have witnessed so far. It cannot be helped, we will have to find a way to handle them. If you were my wife I dare say it would all be worth it. Please Elizabeth." He stepped forward and made to take her hands "Will you end my sufferings and consent to be my wife?" He frowned as she pulled her hands from his.

"Are you quite finished disparaging me and my family?"

He looked blankly at her.

"My answer is no."

She made to move away but he put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"No." He repeated, his voice disbelieving at the same time as being haughty.

"No. I dare say you know the word even if it is seldom directed at you." Her tone was almost as frosty as the night air that was pressing in around them.

"But.." He stammered "Why?" He blurted then cringed, clearly unhappy with his inability to form a coherent sentence.

"Many reasons, Mr Darcy. I would not care to name them all." Elizabeth was trying to hold on to her temper but was not certain how much longer she could manage. Darcy's hand was still on her arm preventing her from leaving.

"I believe I am owed an explanation after condescending to ask you to marry me."

"Ah, an apt word for the addresses you have just payed. Maybe you should look the definition up in the dictionary and decide if that is the manner you should address someone whom you wish to marry."

She made to leave again but the incredulous look on his face, as well as his words, stayed her. "You are refusing me because of a poor word choice?"

Her patience was at an end, she glanced around, noting that they were still alone. "No Mr Darcy. I am refusing you because no consideration could tempt me to accept the man who seems to be trying to ruin my sister's happiness. Unless you wish for me to believe that Mr Bingley has just suddenly become reclusive. I do not wish to marry someone who thinks so poorly of my family that their plan is to 'handle' them once we are married." Her hands formed air quotes to punctuate her irate words. "You claim we have only known each other a few days, I do not know you at all, sir, and if you believe I will respond to this type of offer you clearly do not know me."

"So it is down to poor choice of words. If I had concealed my concerns and flattered you, not mentioned my justifiable worries over the behaviour of your family, their condition in life that is so decidedly below my own, you might have overlooked your pride."

"No sir." Elizabeth interrupted. "I have had your measure from Mr Wickham. I have seen how you treat your sister, locked in her room like a caged animal, clearly hating being at sea but no doubt forced to be here. I can guess where she gets her fear of men from. I do not wish to marry someone who has impressed me, in the span of three days, of the fullest belief of their arrogance, conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others. I have only known you three days, if you can call it that, but you are the last man in the world whom I could be prevailed upon to marry."

He stood stock still and stared as she whirled through the double doors of the palm court and down the stairs located there.

...

Elizabeth hurtled down the stairs to C deck then ran along the second class covered promenade and hurried along the C-deck corridor to the fore grand staircase. Tears were streaming down her face now and she entered her room, still thankfully empty, and collapsed upon her bed.

Jane returned about ten minutes later not realising Elizabeth was within.

"Oh Lizzie, I am sorry, I assumed you would be still up and out."

Elizabeth had cried and dried her face, restoring her appearance to a resemblance of normality.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?"

"I am well Jane. Lady Catherine was a bit trying and I indulged in feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes. 'Tis nothing to be concerned about. I am here because I wished to be assured of your well being."

"Oh, aunt and uncle were most solicitous to my needs. It was very pleasant to spend the evening with them. And, if I may say, better for not hearing constantly of Mr Bingley. I know mama means well, but she can be quite trying."

Elizabeth smiled and hugged her sister.

"Come, let us retire."

They both got in to bed soon after and it was not much later that Elizabeth heard her sister's breathing settle in to the regular deep breaths of sleep. It was ironic that she felt sleep was unlikely to find her anytime soon.

...

Mr Darcy had not moved for many minutes. He had watched Elizabeth flee from him as if he were the very devil himself. She had gone down stairs that he knew led to somewhere other than first class. She had moved with a purpose that suggested familiarity and he only hoped she knew where she was going. He, briefly, considered going after her to ensure her welfare but checked himself when he realised how little his actions would be desired.

The last man in the world.

Wickham, Georgiana, Bingley.

How had all of these people become so embroiled in the relationship with the one woman he had come to value above all others? He was no fool, he knew his feelings were of only a few days duration. He had not decided to ask for marriage, in fact he had considered asking for a courtship once the Titanic docked in New York. If he did not, he was aware that he might never cross paths with Elizabeth again. He had no idea where she was heading and no way of contacting her. That fact had driven his rash proposal on this night, but it was her talk of furthering her education that had prompted marriage rather than courtship. He was of the opinion that women suffered from their lack of education. His sister and her crippling shyness, her situation with Wickham, were all a result of a lack of real life education and one of his main incentives in coming to America was to rectify this.

Elizabeth would be the perfect companion for him to try to improve women's education and his quest to broaden Georgiana's mind. That, and the ticking clock that was the Titanic and her due date in America, had prompted his proposal. He had meant every word. He had listened to her speak and could not say he had ever come across a more intelligent woman. He found her destructively attractive, to the point of embarrassment, whenever he was in close proximity and total distraction when not. When Georgiana had spoken highly of her, his mind was made up.

And yet she had rejected him.

He paced along the starboard side of the covered promenade deck. The chilly night air barely registering. His breath, heaving puffs of white air dispersing as he moved quickly through them. As if the very air wished to escape his presence.

He was angry at first, his feet pounding a rhythm on the deck that helped to focus his attention and calm his boiling blood. As he cooled, literally and figuratively, his mind became clearer. Unfortunately, clarity brought home a sense of shame and loss. Shame for his actions having caused so decided a dislike in a woman well worthy of pleasing. Loss for the sure knowledge that said woman would walk away from him in a matter of days, likely to think of him no more when he would be hard pressed to forget her.

He reached the bow and passed across the front of the ship, under the bridge and headed back towards the stern again. As he walked there were names that pounded through his head in time with his steps.

Wickham, Bingley, Jane, Georgiana.

Each a beat resounded in his head, begging for relief. He had to try to explain himself. She was suffering under misinformation. His plight was lost, he knew that, but he could not allow her to continue to believe what she did of him or Wickham.

A determination formed and he turned his steps back inside. He returned to the sitting room of his cabin. Dark and quiet, Georgiana long asleep. He sat at the desk and began to write.

...

Elizabeth was not asleep, her mind too busily engaged in turning over the events of that evening. The soft swish of something scraping against her door caught her attention. She lifted her head, every sense on alert. There was no gaps around the door, it being a door on a ship, but someone clearly had moved something on the other side. She waited but there was no more noise.

She approached the door and unlocked it, opening it just a crack. There was no one in the corridor. Frowning, she opened the door further and a note, that had been propped on the door, fell in. She picked it up, discerning the name 'Miss Elizabeth Bennet' before looking around once more and shutting the door.

Darcy, around the corner, breathed a sigh of relief. Both for not being spotted and for the letter falling in to the correct hands. He had not been certain what to do when he had realised it could not be slipped under the door, but when he heard movement he had hoped it was her.

He headed towards his cabin and, hopefully, sleep.