The next day, the sky was blue and the clouds were white and puffy. There was a light, warm breeze and the sea was calm. Everything was beautiful, with absolutely no sign of yesterday's storm. It felt like everyone was glaring at the ocean for its betrayal last night. Vivian declared that she would be happy if she never saw that horrible body of water again. I found that I didn't care: the storm had only made our journey more interesting, which is exactly what I wanted it to be. So in a way, I was grateful for the storm. Besides, we weren't dead!
While I was on the deck, I spotted Albert. Here, I thought, was a perfect way to get Vivian up on deck. I then realized that I probably owed him another thank you for possibly saving our lives the night before. He looked up at me as I approached, and stood up. This time, I was able to get a good look at him. He was tall and gangly, yet at the same time he was well built and muscular from working as a sailor. He had brown hair, and an open, honest face.
"Hello," I said.
"Hi," he replied, then looked me up and down. "First class, huh?"
I felt myself flush, but I wasn't sure why, "Yes, well . . . Vivian is. Fully, anyway." I admitted. "I'm sorry if we gave you the wrong impression the other day. We were bored, you see. Incredibly, there is hardly anything to do in the first class, and . . . ." I realized I was blathering and straightened up. "I just wanted to thank you again for helping us last night."
He looked at me, "You talk as though you aren't quite first class. Or at least aren't used to being."
"Perceptive," I said, and then was struck with inspiration. "But this isn't about me. I get the feeling that Vivian would like to see you again, but she isn't keen on coming up on the deck again any time soon."
"So what do you propose?" he asked, and his face seemed to light up at the mention of Vivian.
"I'm going to get her to come back down the steerage with me. I think that we both prefer it down there, anyway. Do you think you can meet us by the cargo bay this afternoon?" I asked.
"I can try to," Albert replied, and then he looked up at the shout of another crewmember. "I have to go."
I nodded and we parted ways.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
I looked up from where I lay sprawled on the floor, into the face of a very handsome, very obviously first class, young man who was apologizing profusely. I wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for, until I felt a dull ache on the back of my head. Oh yes, I had been coming around the corner when he had literally run into me.
I noticed that he had grown silent, and looked back up at him. He had knelt down next to me and was looking at me anxiously. Seeing that he had my attention this time he asked once again, "Are you alright?"
"I think so," I replied, and then tried to sit up. "Oof," gravity was working against me and I fell back once again.
"Here, let me help you," he leaned down and grabbed my upper arms and hauled me to my feet. I swayed slightly and he kept a-hold of me as I found my balance.
"I'm quite fine now, thank you," I told him, and placed a hand on the wall to steady myself.
He breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh good. For a moment there, I was afraid that you hit your head too hard." He ducked his head like a boy and almost looked sheepish.
"Speaking of which, why are you running around the corridors? Couldn't you go run around some first class hallways instead? Where you belong," I said, feeling my previous foul mood returning.
"I'm terribly sorry but-," he froze suddenly, and leaned around to look down the hall that he had come from. "Oh dear," and he began swinging around.
"Wha-?" My question was cut short when he suddenly grabbed my arm, swung open the door to the boiler room, and pushed us both inside. He slammed and locked the door behind him.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" I practically yelled at him.
"Shhh! They'll hear you," and then, to my astonishment, he put his hand over my mouth and pressed me up against the wall. I froze in shock and fear. Just before I could begin telling him off for what appeared to be him attempting to take advantage of me, I heard yelling in the corridor.
"He's not here!"
"Well then, he must have gone down the hall."
"Wait. Here's a door. Maybe he went through here."
Someone rattled the door knob, but thankfully it was locked. After it was clear that whoever they were had moved on, he let go of me.
"So sorry, again. But I couldn't let them catch me," he apologized once again and then asked, "Have we met before? You look familiar."
"I can assure you, sir that I have never seen you before in my life. And I believe you have some explaining to do," I said, as I leveled him with a glare. As I looked at him, I took in his appearance. He was clearly first class, and his red hair was mussed slightly from running. His eyes were the most stunning green I had ever seen, and he was tall and well built. He shuffled and looked at his shoes again, but then back up at me.
"Why don't I try to make it up to you?" he asked.
I sat across from Charles Bingley, as he had introduced himself, in the dining hall. He had insisted that we come here so that we could eat lunch while he explained. I had once again stumbled while introducing myself,and had just told him that my name was "Thatcher." I had told him to go save us a table while I changed into more appropriate clothing. And I was grateful when he didn't ask anything when I showed up in the dining hall wearing one of Vivian's dresses. He merely raised an eyebrow and then pulled out my chair for me.
"So," I began, "Would you care to explain why you barreled into me?"
"Or perhaps we could begin with why you were dressed in third class garb before, and first class now," he countered.
"I asked first," I replied.
"Fair enough," he leaned back with a smirk. "I am returning to England via my sister's orders. She felt that I would be difficult, which I am doing my best to be, so she had some of her henchmen come along to keep me in line and make sure that I arrived at my destination. I was merely doing my best to drop them for the afternoon, and I do believe I have succeeded. Your turn," he finished.
I looked at him, not quite sure if he was telling me the truth or not. The waiter came then and took our orders. After he was gone, I began to tell him my side.
"First class can get quite boring, so my friend and I decided to dress as third class and just spend our time down there," I explained.
"And where is your friend now?" he asked.
I gave him a sour look, "She is meeting someone."
"Uh huh, and is she first or third class? And what are you for that matter? I am still slightly confused."
"We are both first class, or on our tickets at least," I said, feeling the strange need to be honest.
"Would you care to explain any further on that note? For I was recently almost engaged to a mysterious woman, who never quite made herself or her feelings clear, and so I would appreciate it if you would be slightly more forthcoming?" He said this almost bitterly, and yet sadly.
"Mr. Bingley, we are hardly getting engaged. It would not work anyway, for I am married. And if you must know, my friend and I are both legally and in every other way first class, except that I very much prefer the second or third class. Your turn again. Why is your sister summoning you home?"
"I'm not quite sure about that myself. All I know is that I received a letter about a family crisis or a crisis that was about to happen, or something along those lines. She wasn't very clear about it. She wrote to tell me that I must return home immediately, and then the next day her men showed up to escort me to this ship."
I had to admit, I was intrigued by this man. There was something about him, something open and honest, and yet sad. I sensed that it had to do with the woman he was "almost engaged to", but I also got the feeling that I had better not ask.
That night, I met with Vivian in her room and she was practically gushing in happiness. We settled down on her bed and she began pouring out everything that had happened. Apparently, Albert had brought a sort of picnic lunch and they had ate in the cargo bay. She told me that they had talked about everything under the sun, and that for a crewmember he was very well educated. She also said that he had been very gentlemanly and hadn't made any advances toward her at all.
I stiffened as she said that, for quite honestly, that aspect of things had never entered my mind. I felt suddenly ashamed. I should have been a better friend and stayed with her, not left to go crash into Mr. Bingley. But then I reminded myself that he had not made any advances, and that it did go along with my initial gut instinct, that he was trustworthy.
I shook myself of these thoughts and went back to listening to Vivian babble on. I smiled as I listened, happy that she had found another outlet to channel her enthusiastic, kind-hearted energy.
Over the next few days, Charles, as I had come to call him, and I became more open with each other. I found myself telling him a little about Darcy and my family, although I never mentioned anyone specifically by name. And he divulged more about his botched engagement. Apparently, he was in love with a certain young woman, and he thought that she returned his affection. But then, he realized that she possibly didn't care for him as he did for her, and that under the urging of his family, he had decided to cut off their was why he was in America: he had wanted to put distance between himself and his family, and her, so he could think with a clear head.
I asked him where he had come to suspect this woman's merely casual feelings toward him, and he told me of the suspicions of his sister. I tried to get more information out of him, but again and again his answer involved his sister. Thus I began to see the problem, but decided not to say anything. I didn't think he would take kindly to my telling him that the answer to his problems would be to tell his sister to mind her own business.
One day, we were sitting on the deck - Vivian off somewhere with Albert again. Charles turned to me and asked, "You said you were going to meet your family. Who is going to pick you up in England?"
"All I know is that I have a family that consists of my parents and four sisters. They live in Meryton and I assume that either my father or one of his servants will meet me when we dock."
I looked over at Charles, and noticed that he was sitting very still. "What is the name of your family?" he asked quietly, in a way that I didn't like.
"Bennet," I said. "Why?"
Charles looked at me, his eyes were cold. "You can tell Caroline that I have had enough of her mind games, and that I am not going to fall for this one. Good day," and then he got up abruptly and left. I stared after him in shock, not having any idea what had just happened.
I did not see Charles again for the rest of the voyage, and with Vivian with Albert, there was not much for me to do. I sat in my room, reading for most of the time. Vivian sensed my melancholy, but when I refused to tell her anything, she merely kept me company as best she could but didn't ask any questions.
On the nineteenth day of our voyage, land was finally sighted. And then on the twentieth day, we docked. Vivian agreed to stay with me until I was picked up by whoever would come for me. England was completely different from America, yet it looked exactly the same. I couldn't quite decide which it was. The dock was just as busy, and there was the same mixture of people as back home. Dirty street urchins were running around the well-dressed travelers. The buildings, on the other hand, looked older, more worn out. And I realized that the sun was not shining, yet it didn't look like it was going to rain. It was just sort of a dreary, overcast feeling to the day. I sighed heavily and Vivian gave me a concerned look.
As I stood on the dock, I scanned the crowds. I saw a familiar shock of red hair, and saw Charles looking right at me. I stepped forward, hoping that maybe he could explain his strange outburst a few days ago. But he merely turned away, and greeted a tall young woman with the same red hair he had. She was clearly his sister, Caroline. I lost sight of both of them, and when the crowds thinned again, I saw that they had gone. I then became aware of a slightly elderly man, well dressed yet looking entirely out of place. He was looking around as I was, and his eyes fell on me. Recognition lit them, and he began to make his way to us.
He reached us, and looked at my face in amazement. "Elizabeth?" he whispered.
"Father," I replied, and he pulled me into his arms.
Hello again! I hope you enjoyed this last chapter! Ok, a couple things I have to say: First off, for those of you who really want Darcy to come back into the picture soon, I totally understand. Unfortunately though, that doesn't exactly tie in with my story line, so if you just hang in there with me for a few more chapters, I don't think you'll be disappointed.
And the other thing is that I really want to hear from all of you lurkers who haven't reviewed yet, because as some of you may have noticed, your reviews really DO help me with the story! There are several things that I have added or edited in response to your reviews. So I really do appreciate the feedback, especially the constructive criticism. I'd love to hear from those of you who haven't said anything yet. :)
Thank you so much for sticking with my story for so long! I appreciate every single one of you.