14th April 1816
Darcy awoke with the sound of men shouting. He looked through the porthole. Against the pink and orange dawn, he could see the figures of the men working frenetically. A smile graced his features. ‘After the storm comes the calm’ is the saying, and he would believe it.
“Morning, Darcy,” Richard said, joining him at the porthole.
“Morning, Richard.”
“It seems the preparations for us to leave have already started. We should go on deck and see the captain.”
Darcy looked across at Dr Alden and noticed the old man was still deep in his sleep. “Would you mind helping me to change my clothes? This thing…” Darcy said, pointing to his wrapped shoulder.
Richard smiled at Darcy. His cousin seemed a different man. More human? The look in Darcy’s eyes, as he asked for help, was not the same since last year: arrogant and full of self-importance. But there was something beyond humbleness. Darcy’s expression this morning was hopeful and determined.
And that was exactly what they needed.
Once they got dressed, they went up to the deck. Mr Lynch was already there, working; his face had that glad expression of someone being back home.
There were men everywhere, and none of them was idle. Captain Walker was at the stern of the ship, shouting his orders, when he saw Richard and Darcy. “Morning, gentlemen.” He had a grin on his scarred face. “I hope you slept well, because I have good news. I received a letter about half an hour ago. Commodore Norton gave orders for us to set sail as soon as possible and do whatever is necessary to finish this piracy business once and for all. He also advised me to allow your presence on the ship, something that is not usual on a mission like this,” he said, giving Darcy a significant look. “If everything goes according to my plans, we should be setting sail by noon. We can reach the island six hours earlier than I originally planned. Now, if you will excuse me.”
Darcy turned to his cousin and smiled. “We will find her, Richard. I know it. God help us, we will.”
Richard patted his cousin’s good shoulder. “Yes. We will.”
Excited, Richard excused himself and went back to the cabin to write the news to his father, together with another one, more personal, to Miss Bennet. He hoped to come back, and court and marry her. But in the inconvenience of not being able to do so, he would like her to know of his regards for her.
As soon as his letters were written, he went back to the deck and asked one of the men to deliver his mail to Captain Owen in the constable’s house.
Dr Alden joined them at the upper deck and received the news with equal enthusiasm.
In the next couple of hours, the frenzy on board the ship was beyond anything the three gentlemen had ever seen. Members of the crew were running from one side to the other, carrying goods and heavy munition, shouting commands in incomprehensible words, pulling ropes and turning wheels. Around eleven o’clock, when everything was as it should be, Captain Walker gave the command everyone on board was anxiously expecting. “Mr Chase, haul short the anchor and make sail. We have a pirate ship to capture.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Mr Chase replied. “Haul the anchor and make sail!” he shouted to the crew, the order echoing throughout the ship. In a few minutes, they were leaving the port as the hoisted sails were billowing with the power of the wind.
Later, once calm was restored and the crew set into their routine, Darcy approached the captain. “It has been quite some time since I have put my feet on board a ship, Captain. But I must confess I never saw such efficiency.”
Captain Walker was satisfied with his comments. “Mr Darcy, the Ulysses is what the Royal Navy calls a fifth-rate warship, with two hundred and fifty crew and thirty-two cannons. Our objective is to be fast and agile. Every single man on this ship is prepared not just to act as a sailor, but also as a soldier. Efficiency is not a commodity, Mr Darcy, it’s the only way to survive.”
These last words brought a silent discomfort for the three gentlemen.
“Gentlemen, do not be disheartened,” the captain added, trying to appease them. “I have never fought against pirates, but I have fought against Napoleon’s frigate, and we have the upper hand. If the wind keeps its strength, we should be at Saint Anne Island before midnight. This island has been used as a whaling station for many years and has just one small village. It will not be difficult to find them. But be advised. If we encounter any resistance, my orders are to sink the pirate ship and avoid their escape.”
Darcy and Richard exchanged concerned glances.
Captain Walker approached Mr Darcy. “I will do everything in my power to recover your betrothed, and all the other prisoners, sir. However, I cannot guarantee their safety while they are on that ship. That is why we need a solid rescue plan. Those pirates know their end is in a hangman’s noose. They will never surrender.”
Darcy paled. He looked around him, at the land left behind and the Isle of Wight they were contouring to reach the English Channel ahead of them. There was nothing else he could do, so he just nodded. Their fate was in God’s hands. He needed to keep his faith, and the belief that they could rescue Elizabeth without causing her any harm.
Seeing his sombre countenance, Captain Walker was moved by compassion for the young man before him. He had been young once and as any other man of the sea, had had his sweetheart waiting for him back home. It brought back the sad memory of his beautiful wife, dying in childbirth many years ago. He had lost his young wife and a son in one night. From all the bloody battles he had fought and all the death he had seen, nothing caused him more devastation than that loss. He would have done anything to save his wife and son — if only it had been in his power to do so. But it was not meant to be. He had not become bitter, though. He knew many things were beyond his reach and despite his struggles, he had learnt to accept them.
But if it were in his power to recover Mr Darcy’s betrothed, he would do exactly that.
~ ? ~
After their midday repast, Darcy found his cousin at the stern of the ship, distractedly looking at the sea.
“Richard, would you fence with me?”
Richard looked back at him and frowned. “Darcy, you are not fit enough for that yet.”
“That is precisely my point, Richard. I need to know if I can fight. The captain will not allow me to leave the ship if he does not believe I can defend myself. I cannot stay behind, Richard. I simply cannot.”
Richard could perfectly understand his cousin’s concerns. But Darcy could not be allowed to disembark with them in his present condition. He would be a hindrance, jeopardising their efforts to rescue Miss Elizabeth and anyone else, even putting his own life in danger. Darcy should be able to see it. Richard considered the alternatives. Perhaps if Darcy was made to see that he was in no condition to fight, he would give up. “Very well. Let us look for a place.”
They enquired of the crew where would be a good area for them to practise, and Mr Chase suggested the cannon deck. As the crew were not expected to be there until much later, the area was spacious and should be empty for some time.
“Darcy, I will allow you to set the pace,” Richard said, once they were ready to start. “Although we have not fought for some time, I am well aware you are a very good swordsman. But how good you are with just one arm is now to be seen. En garde !”
Richard’s attack was quite precise, not intended to hit his cousin, but get close enough to provoke him. Darcy’s defence was good enough to evade the attack, but not strong enough to convince an enemy.
“Again!” Darcy shouted.
As the attacks and defences progressed, Richard was impressed. Instead of showing weakness, Darcy seemed possessed by a determination that defied comprehension. He was relentless. Only the wrinkles and drops of sweat accumulating on his face were evidence of his pain. He would not give up until he knew he had a chance in a real combat.
It did not take long for the clanging sound of their swords to reach the ears of the crew, who were now perched along the stairs, jostling each other to have a better view of the extraordinary sight before them as the two gentlemen fought. Instead of shouts of encouragement, as it would be expected from dozens of men watching a fight, there was an almost reverent silence.
When the fight was over, and although there was no winner, a round of applause could be heard from behind the two men. Richard and Darcy startled at the sound of the crew cheering them.
And to their much greater surprise, from the small crowd gathered at the stairs, the captain himself approached them. “Colonel, it will be my honour to fight at your side should the opportunity present itself. Your skills are remarkable. And you, Mr Darcy,” Captain Walker said, turning his attention to the bandages around Darcy’s shoulder before raising his eyes to the man’s face, “I confess I am quite impressed with your performance, despite your present limitation. You are not a military man, but you fight as one.”
“Thank you, Captain. Growing up with an older cousin can have its advantages,” Darcy said, pointing his sword towards Richard.
The two cousins smiled at each other and went to their cabin for a well-deserved rest.
As the hours passed, the crew began to rehearse tactical manoeuvres, loading and unloading the cannons, cleaning pistols and sharpening swords. Richard was happy to provide some help in this respect.
Darcy spent most of his time resting in the cabin after their fight, pleased with Dr Alden’s comments about the satisfactory healing process of his wound, despite his foolishness to resume physical activity.
Later, while taking a walk to stretch his legs, Darcy found Richard again. This time his cousin had his eyes closed and a fist pressed to his mouth.
“Is something troubling you, Richard? I mean, beyond the purpose of our journey.”
Richard took a deep breath. “I was thinking about a lady I have met.”
“A lady, Richard?” Darcy asked, his face lit.
“Yes. Miss Bennet,” Richard said distracted.
Darcy stared at him, confused.
“I am sorry, Darcy,” Richard said smiling. “I meant to say, Miss Jane Bennet.”
“Oh, I see,” Darcy said, actually not seeing anything.
Richard was now looking down at a chain dangling around his neck. “I believe I love her.”
Darcy’s brows raised, mouth agape.
His reaction amused Richard. Not even he could understand it. “We have not had the opportunity to talk about it, but after you and Miss Elizabeth were kidnapped, Mrs Collins wrote a letter to Mr Bennet at my request. He arrived that same afternoon with Miss Bennet to keep him company. We spent a lot of time together, talking and sharing our pain, encouraging and comforting each other.” He looked at his shocked cousin. “We did not know if either, or both, of you were dead or alive. When we heard about you and Miss Elizabeth being held hostage at Eastbourne, I promised Miss Jane I would do whatever was necessary to bring her sister back. As we were saying our goodbyes, she gave me this.” He showed Darcy the golden cross hanging around his neck. “She asked me to come back and return it to her.”
Darcy nodded, once side of his mouth curving up. “I see.”
The sudden prospect of having Richard not only as his cousin, but also as his true brother, brightened Darcy’s countenance. He knew Elizabeth would be very happy. Richard was the best husband he could desire for his future sister-in-law.
“What can I say? If you are serious about it, I will give you all my support. You could not have made a better choice, especially considering Elizabeth is no longer available,” Darcy said mischievously, resting his hand on Richard’s shoulder, remembering his initial thoughts about Bingley and Miss Bennet’s unsuitability. “I dare say you two would be perfect for each other. Miss Bennet is the most amiable and kindest lady I have ever met.”
Richard chuckled. “I thought you should be saying that about your betrothed, Darcy.”
“Elizabeth is very kind too, but in another way. While Miss Bennet has a serene and loving nature, Elizabeth is more passionate and impetuous. She has a peculiar way of showing her concerns, and love. You know what she is capable of doing.”
Richard nodded, but his levity was gone. “Was Miss Bennet the lady Bingley snubbed? Was it about her family you were talking when you mentioned her unsuitability and lack of decorum?”
Darcy averted his eyes but nodded.
“And how is it that you ended up betrothed to Miss Elizabeth after all?” Richard asked, truly confused. “The day before you were kidnapped…” Richard lowered his eyes, ashamed. “I… inadvertently confirmed your prejudiced views of their neighbourhood.”
“I had my suspicions. I remembered the way you were silently trying to warn me when I left Aunt Catherine’s drawing room.” He paused and then said, “I asked for Miss Elizabeth’s hand in marriage that night.”
“Well, I should hope so. You have been informing everyone that she is your betrothed,” Richard said, laughing.
“Unfortunately, you are partially correct. She rejected me.”
Richard frowned. “W–what do you mean?”
Darcy slapped his cousin’s back in jest. “It seems we are destined to shock each other today. I went to her that night, so sure that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I poured my heart out to her, but not without mentioning some of my feelings for her family…” Darcy paused at the sound of Richard’s gasp. “Let me just say she was not very subtle in her displeasure. Actually, she was quite vocal. In truth, she despised me for the way I had treated her, her family, and indirectly for supporting Bingley in his decision to leave Hertfordshire, and for treating Wickham in an unfair way.”
Richard’s jaw fell as Darcy revealed not only the details of that fateful night, but also how later they had the opportunity to clarify everything and to unmask the truth about their feelings for each other. “I have been an arrogant ass,” he concluded. “Both Elizabeth and Miss Bennet have forgiven me for my shameful behaviour, Richard. Could you do the same?”
Richard was surprised by his cousin’s humble request, and opened his mouth to reply, but could not find the words. He loved Darcy more than he loved his own older brother. In his cousin, just two years his junior, he had found a true friend and companion for their childish adventures. Unfortunately, as the years passed, adult responsibilities gradually replaced their leisure time. England’s war against France had taken Richard to the Continent, and Darcy’s father’s unexpected death had thrown him into a world of duty, responsibilities and work; they were as far away from each other as it was possible. In Richard’s absence, Darcy had turned into a bitter, cynical and arrogant man. Richard remembered his surprise when he returned. He had found Darcy to be almost a stranger. But he could not blame Darcy for it. Had he not seen the horrors of war, he probably would be the same. English society could be very hypocritical.
“I could, but there is nothing for me to forgive,” Richard said. “I cannot judge you. You always were a good man, and the best of friends. We were raised to fulfil our duty. Unfortunately, that also changed our perception of the world; always waiting for those outside our circle of friends and family to prey on us. But I am pleased to know you realised your mistakes and are determined to change your ways without needing to go to war as I did.”
After a moment of silence, Darcy looked at Richard with some mischief in his eyes. “Miss Bennet said she believes you can bring Elizabeth back to her. She said she trusts you. I confess I was a bit embarrassed to remind her that, actually, it was I who was going to rescue her sister… but—”
Darcy’s words were interrupted when a strong hand gently squeezed his good shoulder. “Do not dare to mess with my girl,” Richard said frowning.
They both burst into laughter.
Richard let go of his cousin and looked back at the sea, so different from the day before. “We will soon return home, Darcy. You will see. And God will help us.” He closed his fist around the little cross and kissed it.
To their great surprise, a strong wind began to hit the ship.
It did not take long for the captain to shout a new command. “Mr Chase, we have good winds! Set studding sails.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. Set studding sails!” Mr Chase repeated to the crew. Immediately, the extra sails were released, capturing the strong wind and adding some valuable knots to their speed.
Darcy and Richard approached the captain, who turned to them with a bemused expression on his face. “It is curious, gentlemen. The sea was as calm as my bath, and now this,” he said, indicating to the sails. “If I was a religious man, I would say God is blowing at us right now. Whether this is the case, I know not, but I will not waste a good blessing.”
~ ? ~
“Land, ho!”
Elizabeth was startled from her stupor by the shout. After partially recovering her senses, she stumbled to the porthole and saw a tiny island on the horizon.
Her long and painful confinement, the up and down of the small ship and lack of fresh air during their sea journey, had caused a terrible headache and nausea, and she had vomited several times.
Barely able to stay on her feet, Elizabeth went to the table and poured some water in the bowl to wash her face. The reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall was not the most welcome one. She looked terrible; she felt terrible. Not having the means to brush her hair or have a proper bath for three days, and having passed God knows how many hours in company with that rotten hay mattress and the smelly chamber pot, twice filled with her urine and many others with her vomit, her smell could kill a pig.
Despite her pitiful situation, she laughed. At least her appearance would surely keep any man away.
The door opened, and Mr Fisher came in. “I brought you some tea. We’ll dock in about one hour. Be prepared to leave—”
“How long have we been sailing?” Elizabeth interrupted before Mr Fisher could leave again.
He stared at her. “About fifteen hours. The winds, although strong, were not in our favour.” And with those words he left.
Fifteen hours! No wonder she was feeling so bad.
Recovering from her shock, she remembered his order. As if she had anything to prepare. She did not believe she could keep anything in her stomach, but she drank the tea.
One hour later, the sound of men shouting told her of their proximity to the port. She went to the porthole, but it was facing the sea. More men were talking, some more shouting, strange noises, bumps, and then silence. They had moored.
She looked around searching for something, anything that she could use to escape, but it was too late. Wickham was at her door with a stern expression on his face.
“Come. ”
She did not obey. He roughly reached for her hand, putting it in the crook of his arm. From inside his coat, he poked her with his dagger. “Shhh. Not a single word. There is no one here to help you,” he said, pulling her through the small cabin door.
As they stepped off the boat, Mr Fisher gave her one last look, but did not say anything. When she looked back, his eyes were still on her, but she knew he would not help. Soon he was out of sight as they walked along the extension of the small port.
Saint Anne’s port was not big or busy. Apart from a few small vessels and fishing boats, there were just a couple of large ships.
Mr Fisher’s son ran towards them from the opposite direction. “Mr Wickham, Captain Macedo is waiting for you in his cabin. It is the last big ship over there.”
Wickham said nothing but nodded. He glanced at Elizabeth, who noticed the small beads of sweat on his upper lip.
“Is this the meeting you have been fearing—”
The sharp point of the dagger reminded her of his initial order. Wickham looked at her and shook his head, pulling her along again.
As they approached the ship, a short, tanned man came to greet them.
Digory .
“Ah! Mr Wickham, nice to see you again. El Capitan te aguarda . Please, your weapons.” He inspected Wickham’s clothes and confiscated his pistol and dagger. Before Elizabeth could think about escaping, the tanned little man grabbed her arm. “ Senorita, por aqui ,” he said, pointing to the plank which connected the pier to the ship.
Once on board, she noticed some other dirty gazes staring at her hungrily. She swallowed hard as they were admitted into the captain’s cabin. The small man released her arm and closed the door behind him.
Despite the large windows, the room was dark, and smelled of tobacco and something acrid. The few pieces of furniture were scattered around the room: a bed in the far corner, many chairs and two tables. By the smaller one, crowded with paper and strange objects, two men stood; another man, scarred and bearded, sat behind it, writing .
Noticing their presence, he put down his quill and stood, walking in their direction. By his haughty demeanour Elizabeth could only guess he was Captain Macedo.
His tanned skin was wrinkled with white marks around the eyes, and many white hairs tinted his dark, untamed curls at his temples. Now close enough to notice the smell of rum and cigars in his breath, Elizabeth raised her gaze and his black and penetrating eyes told her of a merciless man used to having his every whim attended to, as did the menacing yellowish smile now forming at his mouth. He was not a tall man, just a bit taller than her, but his tight jacket and breeches denounced his strength.
She was doomed.
He turned his eyes to Wickham and twisted his nose as if looking upon a worm. “You are late.”
Wickham trembled, and before he could reply, the captain raised his hand to silence him.
Then, he turned to Elizabeth again. She held her breath as his exploratory eyes narrowed when resting on the bruises of her lips and cheek. He lowered his gaze to her body, to her décolletage, and sneered, then to her waist, slowly walking around as if checking whether the commodity was good enough for his taste. Then he stopped. “ Muy bonita , Mr Wickham,” he whispered, still sneering. “You have not exaggerated. She is a beauty. I will keep her.”
Grabbing Elizabeth’s face, he pulled her towards him as his thin lips sucked hers. She gagged and he released her, laughing aloud.
She tried to slap him, but he held her wrist. “You, my dear, will need to get used to that,” said Macedo with his strong accent. “I, on the other hand, cannot abide smelly women. Gonzales, send word for Consuelo. La senorita needs a bath and a new gown,” he added, turning his nose. “We cannot allow a beautiful lady to remain like that. Ahora, hombre. ”
Elizabeth gagged again, rubbing her mouth with the back of her sleeves as one of the men made haste to leave.
“Jose,” Captain Macedo called to the other man, “take the lady to her cabin. I have business to discuss with Mr Wickham. ”
Elizabeth tried to protest, but the widened eyes of Wickham persuaded her not to say anything, at least for now, so she followed the man.
On her way out, she saw Captain Macedo striking Wickham’s face, sending him against the table.
“I am always telling the same thing! I like my women unblemished, and you almost ruined her face…” she heard as the door closed.
Elizabeth shivered at the thought of what those words could mean. After that disgusting kiss, she had no more doubts; death was a far more preferable option. Shutting her eyes, she conjured with all her will the memory of William’s passionate kiss to erase the sour taste on her mouth. God help her, but she would die before kissing another man — especially Captain Macedo.
When they reached her cabin on the third deck below, Jose took the large key ring from his pocket and opened the door.
What she saw inside churned her stomach. At least five other young women were cooped up inside the small and dirty cabin; bruised and pale faces grew in horror as the door opened, denouncing their mistreatment. Jose shoved Elizabeth into the room and closed the door behind her.
The rest of the day was a nightmare. The young women were scared to death. When one of them calmed, another one would cry, and they would all become hysterical again. Elizabeth tried every possible way to comfort them, but her efforts were in vain; they could not even understand her language and flinched every time Elizabeth extended her hand. She wondered about how long they had been kept there.
Around nine o’clock that evening, a big pan filled with pieces of bread and a bucket of water were shoved inside their cabin. Elizabeth could not hold back her tears as the scene of the beautiful young ladies fighting for a piece of stale bread unrolled before her.
If Mr Darcy could not reach her in time…
The door was opened again, and an old lady came in and shouted out in a very strong accent, “Elizabete.”
Elizabeth assumed she was Consuelo and stepped forward .
The old lady grabbed her by the arm. “Come.”
Cries of panic and despair grew behind her as the door was closed again.
The old woman took her down the corridor to another empty cabin where Jose stood with the key ring. She exchanged a couple of words in their language and the man closed the door behind them. Inside, there was a bath filled with lukewarm water, and a fancy red gown awaited her on the berth. The old woman stripped Elizabeth from her old and dirty clothes and pushed her into the aromatic bath. Consuelo was quick in her task of washing Elizabeth’s body and hair. In less than ten minutes, she was done.
The old woman pulled Elizabeth from the bath, looking at her naked body and nodding in an approving way. Elizabeth could only shiver, powerless. She dried and dressed Elizabeth and, when she had finished pinning her hair, Consuelo called for Jose to escort Elizabeth back to the captain’s cabin.
A shiver ran down Elizabeth’s body at the thought of what was waiting for her.