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“ Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Darcy?”

“ Thank you very much, Mrs Darcy .” He crossed the room and knelt at her knee. “That sounds nice, doesn’t it?” After touching her cheek, he drew her to him and kissed her. Any touch from him rippled through her body like electricity. She wondered if that would always be so.

“ I’ll get the tea.” She rose and went into the small galley kitchen, where she lit the stove.

He followed her and stood leaning on the small ice box. “I meant to ask you: would you like to move to a hotel for the next few days before our trip? We could have room service… breakfast in bed…”

She should have expected this. A small wave of panic washed over her.

“I can bring you breakfast in bed here.” She spoke without looking at him.

How peculiar. She had only been in this little, dark flat for a few days, and yet it seemed like home to her, and she was reluctant to leave.

Lizzy looked over her shoulder. “Do you mind staying here? I…”

Darcy closed the few steps between them and took her hands in his. “I don’t mind at all. This place is… our little refuge, isn’t it?”

She was so grateful that he understood. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, pinning his arms to his side, and leaned her head against his chest. He smelled of witch hazel and wool, and something indistinct that was him and only him.

Inhaling slowly, she filled herself with his essence.

“I’m glad you understand. I’ll be sad to leave this place. Isn’t that funny?”

“ No, I don’t think it is. I feel the same. What is funny is that I find I can be happy with so little. All I really need is food, shelter… and you.”

How does he think of these wonderful little things to say? She let him go as the kettle began to whistle.

With tea, sandwiches, and a bit of cake set on the table, they ate and talked of their trip before Lizzy said, “Oh, I’d really like to finish my letter home. Would you mind very much?”

“ No, of course not. I did buy the evening paper. We can sit about like an old married couple.”

His presence instilled a comfort Elizabeth didn’t expect to find.

She knew that there was a sort of terrible love that bound her to him.

She was helpless in the face of it. The more he revealed himself to her—his character, his kindness, his ability to sacrifice his own needs for another—the more she loved him.

What she didn’t expect was this warm blanket on a cold and damp night, a contentment that washed over her.

She cleared the dishes and sat again at their little table.

Darcy sprawled on the sofa, the newspaper lying about him like fallen leaves.

He’d removed his tie and suit jacket and sat with waistcoat unbuttoned, collar and shoes off, intently reading.

She stared at him for some moments, and as if he could feel her gaze, he suddenly folded the sheet he was reading and caught her eye.

“ By Jove, I forgot to ask. How did Lydia fare? Did Wickham stick by her?”

“ They left on the Lapland the day after the Carpathia docked. The White Star Line sent all the surviving crew back to Southampton.”

“ And left you here to survive on your own?” His voice squeaked a bit as he spoke, which she found endearing.

“ They couldn’t take me with them, and they had a chance to return. I don’t think Lydia was too eager to get on board a ship so soon.”

“ So, he was with her, then?”

“ Yes, most definitely.” She hesitated and then asked, “What did you do to persuade George to marry her?” His expression told her that she caught him out.

He’d have to tell her and confirm what she suspected: that he was instrumental in restoring Lydia’s honour.

“Now, don’t try to think up something to say other than the truth—”

“ I would do no such thing.” He smiled. “Yes, I arranged for the scoundrel to receive regular payments each quarter if he would do the right thing. How did you know?”

“ You just told me. I merely suspected it before.”

He slapped the sheet of newspaper on his lap.

“You are far too clever for your own good, Elizabeth Ben… Darcy. There won’t be anything I can keep from you.

” He laid the newspaper down. “I expect I’ll be receiving communication from my solicitor any day now asking for further instructions.

I’m sure that Wickham was anxious to return to England with Lydia to prove to Mr Huntley that the marriage indeed took place on the Titanic, and there he’ll be, his wife in tow. ”

Elizabeth’s smile faded. She took no joy in the fact that her sister was saddled with that contemptable Wickham. “Do you think he has any affection for her?”

“ I don’t know, Lizzy. I really don’t. I expect he’ll stick by her, though. Otherwise, the money will dry up.”

She fell quiet for a moment. “We’re very lucky, aren’t we?”

“ Very…” He moved as if to rouse from the sofa, but she held up her hand.

“ Don’t disturb yourself.” Amid the rustle of papers, she eased away from the table and kissed his eager mouth, savouring the feel of him, wanting to pull him inside of her.

She laid a hand on his chest and broke away.

“I really must finish that letter and post it tomorrow. Otherwise, we will arrive before it does.”

He brushed the papers aside and stood, shaking himself rather like a puppy that had just come in out of the rain. “Now you’ve made me feel guilty. I should write to Georgiana.”

The two of them sat across the table from one another. Lizzy handed Darcy paper and pen, and she continued the letter she had started only a day ago.

20 April 1912

Everything is happening so fast. You know this already because I sent you a telegram, but I love writing it again.

Mr Darcy and I were married today. Due to the intransigence of the New York Registrar’s Office and the Episcopal Church (Church of England over here), we were married in a Unitarian Church in New York City.

The reverend was very kind, and his housekeeper and groundskeeper stood as witness.

The groundskeeper, Mr Moretti, even picked me a bouquet of spring flowers.

The church was lovely, all in white. I couldn’t be happier.

We will arrive in Southampton on the Olympic on the 25 th or the 28 th and will come immediately to see you. I can’t say that I look forward to another ocean voyage, but since I cannot walk home, it can’t be helped.

I hope Lydia is settling into married life. I can only wish that she is as happy with Mr Wickham as I am with Mr Darcy. I miss you all. I will be home soon.

Yours,

Lizzy

***

Two days later, as Darcy supervised the packing of their suitcases into the Yellow Cab that would take them to the pier, he observed Elizabeth as she stood on the sidewalk, gazing at the brownstone. He placed his hand gently on the small of her back and she started.

“ I could buy it for you, if you like.”

She crooked her neck to shoot him a quizzical look. “Buy what?”

“ This building, then we’d have it forever.”

She shook her head. “No, no. That would never do. This place should be filled with life. If we had it, that flat would sit empty. It shouldn’t be a memorial. It should be someone else’s little refuge.”

“ Perhaps you’re right.” He sighed and took her hand.

After opening the door to the taxi, he handed her in, taking one last, wistful look at their temporary home on 58 th Street.

They sat in silence on their brief ride to the pier, and Darcy stole a glance at her from time to time.

He wished he knew what she was thinking.

His letter to Georgiana remained unfinished, for as soon as Lizzy laid down her pen to beckon to him with her smouldering gaze, they commenced their wedding night.

There was nothing tentative about their union this time.

He couldn’t get enough of her, and in the morning, he commenced again, exhausting his passion in her tender folds.

Perhaps it was too much. After all, she and her delicate body were new to carnal delights, and perhaps he shouldn’t demand so much of her.

Yet as he commenced his rhythm, she matched his movement with her own, grasping him, caressing him, and with such a look of ecstasy that he couldn’t help but believe she ached for him as much as he did for her.

There was no one to see them off, of course, so they proceeded to what was to be Elizabeth’s cabin where she’d planned to return home alone.

The steward unlocked the door, and the porters moved past with suitcases and a steamer trunk.

He and Lizzy had been busy in the city, filling their bags with necessities, since everything they brought from England slept at the bottom of the Atlantic.

After tipping the porter, Darcy stepped in behind Elizabeth.

The cabin was much smaller than he had expected, and his eye immediately went to the bunk beds on the far wall.

A padded bench seat sat against the opposite wall.

Their trunks were piled on it, and a small desk resided at the left of the bench, whilst a wash basin took the right.

“ How lovely,” Elizabeth exclaimed.

Lovely? Certainly not. Having grown up with every comfort, expecting every comfort, expecting deference in fact, despite all the loss, it didn’t take long to fall back into his old attitudes.

He instinctively reached into his breast pocket to assure himself that his funds were still there.

Being ignored and treated with suspicion as he’d spent the day in a workman’s cap hit him hard.

After all, it had only been a few days before.

“ Is everything all right, dearest?” Elizabeth cut through the fog of his reverie.

“ I suppose you’ll have to get used to my moods, Lizzy. If there is a silver lining, I will always find the cloud.”

She held out her hand, and he took it.