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Lizzy tossed the stream of paper ribbon towards her father and uncle, who stood on the dock, amid the crush of well-wishers.

They were clever enough to find and hold on to it while the ship pulled off.

She wasn’t sure that the ribbon would even reach them, she was so far from the dock.

The ship was gigantic, monumental. She felt alone and vulnerable as the paper connection to her family snapped and floated down into the murky sea.

She stood for a while on the promenade deck until she could no longer see the dock, her father’s face, or the land of her birth.

They were proudly steaming towards Cherbourg to collect more passengers.

Lizzy made her way back to her cabin, needing to find that first before the search for Lydia could begin.

Knowing that her sister was employed on the ship, she must have quarters somewhere. No doubt the female and male crew were housed separately, so she might yet be in time to save Lydia’s honour. After all, she and Jane watched her like two temple dogs while she was living with them at Mrs Clarke’s.

A steward passed her by, and she drew him to a stop. “Are the women crew chiefly stewardesses for the first-class passengers?”

“Yes, miss.” He smiled stiffly at her. “They are.”

“Oh, thank you very much.” Lizzy headed towards the first-class staircase, but the steward spun on his heel and came after her.

“Oh no, miss. Can’t go there. First-class passengers only.”

“You don’t understand. I must find my sister.”

“Orders is orders, miss. You might try the glory hole later on.” He touched the rim of his cap.

“Glory hole? That sounds revolting.”

The steward laughed. “It’s quite clean now, miss, the ship being so new.

It’s where we all sleep. I’ll show you the entrance to the women’s quarters.

Crew bunks are forward on the middle deck.

You might try your luck there waiting at the entrance.

They won’t let no passengers in the glory hole.

No, sir… I mean… no, miss.” He touched his hat once again and gestured for her to follow him.

On the way to the middle deck crew quarters, the steward informed Lizzy that all the stewardesses were busy during the day, and a good place to wait might be near the crew mess hall.

After all, they all had to eat. The mess hall was forward near the third-class open space, so Elizabeth resolved to arrive there near four o’clock and wait until Lydia made her appearance, if she ever did.

***

Dressed for dinner, Darcy left his stateroom at seven o’clock when the bugle summoned guests to the reception room for cocktails.

As he descended the forward grand staircase, the hum of quiet conversation among the first-class passengers greeted him.

There would be no imbibing for him tonight.

He needed all his faculties if he were to catch Wickham.

The dining room for the first-class passengers was just beginning to fill up, and he realised as he entered that he knew no one on the ship and therefore had no one with whom to dine.

Before the voyage, he considered taking his meals alone in his room, but now he was seeking out Wickham, who on further consideration may not be a passenger but working as a waiter here in first class.

After requesting a small table to himself at the far corner of the dining room where he had a view of the entire opulent space, he sat down to keep an eye on who came and went.

Everything that would provide comfort and luxury was carefully planned and executed.

The dining room was in the centre of the ship where movement and noise from the engines were at a minimum.

The portholes were disguised by leaded, stained-glass windows.

Carved wood panelling painted a brilliant white lined the walls.

Except for a slight movement of the ship, one would never know one was at sea.

Darcy redirected his attention from the décor to the staff.

Picking up a menu, he perused it, and then peered over it, and strained his eyes for a glimpse of his quarry.

The dinner was top-notch: duck with buttered boiled potatoes and minted peas.

There was a squab course, an asparagus salad, a palate-cleansing rum punch, paté de foie gras with celery , and other delights to tempt his palate and distract him from his mission.

After dessert of French ice cream (they really did think of everything), he rose to leave.

So far, his mission bore no fruit, but resolving to take as circuitous route as possible through the great salon, he hoped to spy Wickham.

Dawdling near the entrance, he watched and waited.

Within minutes, the white of a waitstaff tunic caught his eye.

Wickham waited at the captain’s table.

Perfect. He would endeavour to be invited to dine with the captain tomorrow. Hopefully, Lydia’s honour would stay intact until then.

***

The mild weather followed them as the great behemoth chugged its way towards France.

Lizzy began her watch slightly after four when the ship landed in Cherbourg to take more passengers.

She found a deck chair and sat down to wait for Lydia, holding a book as a pretext.

If anyone approached to begin a conversation, she merely held the book up and gently waved them away.

The gusts on deck nearly dislodged her saucer-like hat, but anticipating the sea breeze, she took extra care in anchoring it with pins to her low pompadour.

The wind off the ocean was not kind to the puffy swirls of hair piled high on the head, so she wisely chose to dress her hair so that it sat low on her neck.

It neared dinnertime, and a soft rumble of her stomach told Elizabeth she hadn’t eaten.

She would wait until half past seven to allow for the rush, and if Lydia didn’t appear, then she’d postpone her task until tomorrow.

The sun had set, and the deck was becoming chilly.

Enough was enough. Elizabeth rose from her seat and was just descending the staircase leading to the crew’s mess.

She had to choose her way carefully as the stairways were streaming with crew hurrying in both directions.

Her skirt caught momentarily on the heel of someone’s shoe, and as she moved to dislodge it, she nearly crashed headlong into Lydia, who was looking behind her at one of her fellow stewardesses.

“Oh… Oh, my Lord… Lizzy.” Lydia jolted and drew back. “Whatever are you doing here?”

Lizzy caught hold of her arm and pulled her up the last step and onto the deck. By the time they reached the railing, Lydia twisted away. She squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. “Clever, Lizzy. You worked out which ship I was on. I thought perhaps I said too much in my note.”

“Is that all you’re worried about? What are you thinking? Have you married Mr Wickham?”

Lydia laughed. “I told you we’re to be married in New York.” She tried to pull away. “If it is any of your business, we see very little of each other on the ship. The men’s and women’s quarters are separate, you know.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” For the first time since seeing that note, the panic roiling around inside Elizabeth subsided. The relief was short-lived when she saw the look in Lydia’s eyes. “How ever did you get involved with him? I thought Jane and I stopped that nonsense long ago.”

Lydia curled her lips into a sneer. “You two think you are so smart. You know all those times I went to the musicale or the cinema with Johnny and Constance and that bunch? I walked out with them, and then met Georgie. That’s how we went out together. Right under your nose. What a laugh we had.”

Lizzy stiffened. “And has he taken any liberties with you? Answer truthfully.”

Lydia rolled her eyes as a couple passed them by. “Don’t be such a child, Lizzy. You can’t keep a man like George Wickham unless you give him what he wants.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment and leaned heavily on the railing. “Oh, Lydia.” When she opened them again, Lydia was looking out to sea.

“He will marry me in New York. You’ll see.” She wouldn’t meet Elizabeth’s eyes, and her voice quavered a bit as she spoke. The little girl in her was not half sure of herself.

“You’re coming with me. Go tell the matron that you are leaving your position as of this moment and spending the rest of the voyage with your sister. I have an entire second-class cabin to myself, with two bunk beds, there is plenty of room—”

Lydia stepped back, and her mouth curled into a snarl. “I will do no such thing. I am keeping my position; I am seeing George whenever I can and I am getting married in New York. There is nothing you can do to stop me. Nothing.” She didn’t wait for a reply and ran to the crew’s mess.

Elizabeth covered her mouth and choked back a sob.

All she did was inflame Lydia’s will. She failed.

Getting a hold of herself and taking a deep breath, she shook it off.

This encounter did not go well. So be it.

Tomorrow, perhaps she could find Mr Wickham.

Maybe there was some hope that he really intended to marry her.

It was an unrealistic thought, Lizzy knew, but she would hold on to it until tomorrow.

For now, she needed to eat something and clear her head.

She might have lost the first battle, but she would win the war.