Page 2 of To India with Mr. Darcy

T he ship set sail that very afternoon, and by the time evening fell, everyone had begun to settle in. They would be coming together for the first formal dinner of the voyage.

The dining room was crowded and alive with the hum of conversation as Darcy stepped inside, the low murmur of voices mingling with the creak of the ship’s timbers. His gaze swept over the room with mild disapproval. The tables were set with reasonable care, though hardly to the standard he would expect for a formal dinner, and the arrangement of the chairs seemed haphazard at best. Still, it was tolerable—for a ship. He adjusted his cravat and sighed quietly, already resigned to what promised to be a tiresome meal.

Beside him, Bingley scanned the room with his usual buoyant enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up almost instantly. “There they are!” he said, clapping Darcy on the shoulder. “Come, we shall sit with our new acquaintances, Mr Gardiner and his delightful nieces.”

“Delightful,” Darcy said dryly, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

Of course. He had already endured several introductions that afternoon, now he was to be subjected to more of their company. Already the vessel felt oppressive. He followed Bingley reluctantly, offering only the faintest nod of acknowledgment as they approached the Gardiners’ table. He supposed, with Mr Gardiner and Bingley doing business together, he ought to get used to such gatherings.

“Mr Darcy,” said Mr Gardiner cheerfully, rising from his seat. “You are just in time.”

“Mr Gardiner,” Darcy replied with a brief bow. His gaze swept over the two young women seated beside their aunt and uncle. Elizabeth Bennet was regarding him with a bright, curious expression that he found vaguely unsettling. Her elder sister, Jane, was more subdued, her gentle smile as unassuming as the pale blue gown she wore.

“Mr Darcy,” said Elizabeth, her voice lilting with a note of amusement. “How fortunate that we shall dine together this evening.”

“Fortunate indeed,” Darcy replied coolly, taking the chair opposite her. He knew that his tone conveyed little enthusiasm for the arrangement, but the truth was he didn’t know how else to express himself. He busied himself with his napkin as the conversation resumed around him, hoping to observe quietly without much expectation of participation.

“The sea truly does go on forever, does it not?” Elizabeth said after a pause, turning to the table at large. “I had imagined it vast, of course, but not quite so endless.”

“Endless and relentless,” Darcy muttered, his gaze briefly drawn to the porthole. The setting sun cast a muted light across the restless waves, though there was nothing else to be seen at all. “It is unlikely to change much in the coming months.”

Elizabeth arched a brow, but before she could respond, her sister spoke. “Our cabin is much nicer than I expected,” Jane said with a serene tone. “I had thought it would be far more cramped, but it is quite comfortable.”

Mrs Gardiner nodded in agreement. “Indeed, it is well-fitted, for a ship. The crew seem very obliging.”

“We quite agree,” Bingley said. “Don’t we, Darcy?”

Darcy took a sip of his wine before speaking. “It is adequate,” he said, his voice deliberately measured. “But refinement is clearly not the ship’s strong suit. One must temper one’s expectations aboard such a vessel, one supposes.”

Elizabeth leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “How fortunate, then, that we are surrounded by such adequate things. Refinement can be so dull, don’t you think?”

Darcy’s eyebrows twitched in surprise. He was unused to such brash remarks, particularly from women. “I have yet to find refinement dull,” he said, his tone clipped. “Though I suppose it depends on what one considers diverting.”

“Ah, then we must agree to differ,” Elizabeth replied easily. “A little chaos now and then makes life far more interesting. Perfection is so predictable.”

Darcy paused, momentarily at a loss for a response. It was rare for someone to challenge him so openly, and rarer still for him to find the experience anything but irritating. Yet there was something about Elizabeth Bennet’s quick wit that held his attention longer than he cared to admit.

“You are very fond of unpredictability, then?” he asked at last.

“Oh, exceedingly,” she replied. “Life would be insufferably dull without it.”

“Then you will undoubtedly find this voyage quite to your taste,” Darcy said, leaning back in his chair. “There will be no shortage of unpredictable moments, I assure you.”

Elizabeth’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “I look forward to them.”

Darcy glanced away, unsettled by how her words lingered longer than they should have. There was a lightness to her that he could not quite grasp, a confidence that seemed wholly out of place for a woman in her position. Yet, against his better judgement, he found himself curious—about her opinions, her confidence, her refusal to be easily dismissed.

That curiosity, however, was unwelcome. Darcy turned his attention back to his plate, shutting himself down before the conversation could draw him in further. There was no point in entertaining such thoughts, not when five long months stretched out ahead of them. He would allow Bingley to be the bright one, and that was that.

***

Later, after the long and insufferable dinner had finished, Darcy and Bingley retired for the evening. Though they each had a cabin of their own, they shared quarters with a communal area between their private spaces. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the distant hum of footsteps and laughter from the upper deck. Bingley let out a contented sigh and shrugged off his coat, tossing it over the back of a chair before turning to Darcy with a broad grin.

“Well, Darcy,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head, “this voyage may yet prove to be quite agreeable.”

Darcy arched a brow, unbuttoning his waistcoat with deliberate care. “Oh? You have come to that conclusion after a single meal?”

“Indeed, I have!” Bingley laughed. “Miss Bennet is delightful—so kind, so serene. She has the most soothing manner, don’t you think? I confess, it is rare to meet a young lady with such natural grace and genuine sweetness.”

“She seems pleasant enough,” Darcy replied, hanging his waistcoat on a nearby hook. His tone was deliberately neutral. In truth, he had found her sweetness a little sickening, but he’d known instantly at Bingley would form some sort of attachment to her. “You would do well not to form too hasty an opinion. We are, after all, barely acquainted with her.”

Bingley lowered himself into a chair, shaking his head in amusement. “Come, Darcy, must you always be so cautious? I am not proposing marriage. I merely find her amiable company. And as we shall be on this ship for some time, I find it particularly excellent that there is amiable company to be had.”

Darcy crossed the room and sat opposite him, resting one arm on the chair’s armrest and tapping his fingers against his chin. “Amiable company is all well and good,” he said. “But remember, we shall be at sea for months. Prolonged proximity can easily distort one’s perceptions. A ship is a world unto itself, cut off from reality. What may seem enchanting at first can quickly grow tiresome.”

Bingley’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You make it sound as if we’re all doomed to be bored with one another within a week.”

“I am simply pointing out the obvious,” Darcy said with a faint shrug. “Such intensity of acquaintance rarely produces the same impressions once one returns to the shore.”

Bingley chuckled. “Well, I shall be delighted to test your theory. Though I must warn you, Miss Bennet does not strike me as the sort of lady who would grow tiresome easily.”

Darcy’s lips twitched in reluctant amusement. “You are determined to enjoy this voyage, no matter what warnings I offer.”

“And you are determined to detest it, no matter how much encouragement I offer. What is the point of adventure if one does not embrace it wholeheartedly?”

Darcy shook his head, though his eyes held a trace of warmth. Bingley’s relentless optimism was something of a mystery to him, though secretly he found that it buoyed him somewhat. Despite the many ways in which they differed, Darcy could not help but admire Bingley’s easy way with people—his willingness to see the good in every situation.

“And you?” Bingley leaned forward, his curiosity evident. “Have you found nothing aboard this ship to pique your interest?”

Darcy’s expression grew cool once again. “I am here for business, Bingley. Nothing more. My interest lies in ensuring that this voyage is as uneventful as possible.”

Bingley laughed outright. “Ever the pragmatist. But you must admit, it is rather a romantic notion, sailing across the world. Perhaps India will enchant even you.”

“India is a land of business and opportunity,” Darcy said. “That is all I require from it.”

“And the Bennet sisters? What do you make of them? I noticed you were speaking to Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley asked, his tone casual.

Darcy hesitated. He had observed both Miss Bennet and her sister carefully during dinner. Jane Bennet was exactly as Bingley described—gentle, kind, and perfectly amiable. Elizabeth, however, was something else entirely. There was a sharpness to her wit, a boldness in her manner that he found somehow distracting. She spoke too freely, laughed too easily, and met his gaze without the slightest hesitation.

“The younger sister is… lively,” he said at last.

“Lively? That is all you have to say?”

Darcy frowned. “She is unconventional in her conversation. Spirited, I suppose some would say.”

Bingley grinned. “Spirited, indeed. I quite like her. A little liveliness can be refreshing, you know. You could stand to be refreshed every now and then, Darcy.”

“I prefer my company more predictable,” Darcy replied dryly. “Spirited conversation can too easily become tiresome.”

“Oh, but predictability is so dull!” Bingley protested. “Surely you can appreciate a bit of unpredictability from time to time. I daresay Miss Elizabeth might surprise you yet.”

“I doubt that very much,” Darcy said with a noncommittal hum. “I do not rely on surprises to improve my mood, Bingley.”

“No, you rely on scowling,” Bingley said with a laugh. “A most reliable tactic, to be sure.”

Darcy allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. “Someone must provide balance to your relentless optimism.”

“Very well, I shall continue to enjoy the voyage, and you may continue to endure it. But mark my words, Darcy—you may yet find something unexpected aboard this ship. Something that refuses to fit neatly into your perfectly ordered world.”

Darcy said nothing, though his thoughts lingered for a moment too long on Elizabeth’s quick, mischievous smile. He dismissed it with an effort, reminding himself that curiosity was a dangerous indulgence.

He straightened in his chair and glanced towards the porthole, where the stars gleamed cold and distant in the vast night sky. “It is fortunate, then, that the voyage has only just begun,” he said quietly. “There will be ample time for all our theories to be tested.”

“Indeed,” Bingley agreed, rising from his chair. “And I, for one, am looking forward to it.”

Darcy leaned back as Bingley got up and made his way to his cabin. He could not shake the feeling that this voyage would be anything but uneventful. He would focus on the business ahead, of course—but something told him there were surprises waiting beyond the endless horizon.

And surprises were precisely what he hoped to avoid.