Beginning, Section III, Section IV
Jump to new as of November 4, 2001
Jump to new as of November 12, 2001
Jump to new as of November 18, 2001
Posted on Friday, 12 October 2001
Liz woke up when the Pride dropped anchor off Derbyshire Island. She looked at her clock. "Arrgh. 6:30," she mumbled. She rolled over, punched her pillow, and tried to go back to sleep. She had spent a restless night and couldn't bear to get up yet.
But sleep would not reclaim her. After a half hour of kicking the covers off, pulling them on again, squishing her pillow, and rolling over and over and over, she sat up. She reached for the telephone. More than anything, she wanted to call Fitz and say she wasn't getting off the ship.
Pulling her hand back, she sighed. You can do this. You CAN do this. She did some stretches, got dressed and went up to the Promenade Deck for an early jog around the deck.
Fitz was startled out of sleep by the shrill ring of the telephone.
"Hlmm?"
"Good morning," said the cheerful computer voice. "It's six o'clock. This is your wake-up call. Have a great day!"
Fitz groaned and threw off the covers, hoping the cool air would help him wake up. He got up, showered, and dressed. Just as he finished dressing, his room-service breakfast was delivered. Not knowing what would happen on the island, he knew he had to eat a good breakfast, but he was surprised to find out that he was truly hungry.
Down on 5 deck, Fitz found the crew getting ready to launch the lifeboats for use as tenders to carry crew and passengers to Derbyshire Island. Security Officer Sanderson greeted him cordially.
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy. The tender won't leave for about 20 minutes. Join me for some coffee?"
The two men rode the crew elevator up to the officers' wardroom. Coffee mugs in hand, they sat at a small table and took another look at the map of the island. After 10 minutes of reviewing the plan for the day, Fitz stood up and said, "Let's go. We've planned as much as we can. Given Liz's talent for ad-libbing, anything may happen today."
When Fitz got back to 5 deck, he saw that the tender was filling rapidly. Deck stewards in bright tropical shirts joked with kitchen stewards in white uniforms. Crates of food were piled at the back. Fitz joined the officers who were getting on the boat. And in a few minutes, they were away. Fitz looked up to admire the Pride's clean lines, and saw Liz run along the deck. She looks so relaxed and confident. I thought she'd be nervous. How does she do that?
Thud, thud thud. Liz's feet pounded the deck as she ran. She willed George from her mind, and concentrated on the clean air and warm sunshine. She heard a rumbling noise from the water, and watched as the first tender of the morning pulled away. Good luck, Fitz, she thought.
The tender pulled along the little dock. Looking at the beach, Fitz saw three young men waving and walking toward the dock.
"Hey! Good morning!" they called to him.
"How did you get here?"
The divers introduced themselves and explained, "We live here. Austen has several ships in the area, and each one stops here on a different day. So they keep a few divers here for safety and security. While passengers are on the island, we do lifeguard duty, man the dive shack, give snorkeling lessons, stuff like that. I understand we're supposed to set you up with whatever you need."
"Right. I don't even know if I'll need snorkeling equipment, but I might as well check some out now just in case. Since there's no parallel path to the lighthouse, I may need to swim around those rocks to a pickup point and catch a ride to the other side."
"I think we can find an easier way to get you a ride. But do take the snorkel equipment. In fact, let's take a swim now. Passengers won't be here for an hour, so relax and enjoy. When you see the first passenger tender heading for the island, duck into the men's room, and wait until the crowd mills around. Nobody will notice that you were there in advance of the crowd."
By the time Fitz and Mort, one of the divers, finished their swim, another tender full of crew arrived. This time, bartenders and photographers were the new arrivals. One of the photographers has wearing swim trunks and formal tailcoat.
Seeing Fitz's look of astonishment, Mort laughed. "One of the photographers dresses up like a formal waiter, and carries a tray with glasses glued to it. He poses with passengers in the water. Don't knock it. The pictures actually do turn out cute. Come on, let me show you some of the paths around here."
After a quick breakfast, Liz found her way to the lounge where Anne was dispensing tender tickets. She smiled at Liz and whispered, "Here you go. I saved you a ticket for the first tender. Good luck."
Liz had to wait only 10 minutes before her tender number was called. She joined the crowd of passengers making their way down to 5 deck. One by one, the passengers were logged out with their security cards, then assisted into the tender. The ride to the beach took only 10 minutes. As they neared the island, Liz looked for Fitz, but didn't see him anywhere.
When the tender was tied at the dock, passengers swarmed off the boat and onto the beach, staking out beach chairs and umbrellas. A line formed quickly at the dive shack, as people collected snorkels, masks, and fins. One of the divers stood in the shallow water, helping people get their equipment on correctly.
Liz walked toward the beach chairs and looked around. There certainly were plenty of chairs and umbrellas lined up along the sand. Behind the sandy area there were picnic tables and hammocks in the shade of palm trees. Still farther away was a covered area where kitchen crew were putting out fruit and cookies for a mid-morning snack and getting the grills started for lunch. A waiter walked by with cold drinks.
Liz chose a chair near the steps that led to the shaded area. She was about to sit down when a deep voice behind her said, "Good, you're here."
"Reporting for duty, sir!" She turned around and saluted. She had to make a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping open at the sight of Fitz standing there, wet, in short swim trunks. She had to suppress an urge to run her fingers through his hair, which was curling as it dried.
"Come on." He picked up her beach bag and walked toward the shade. "Geez, what's in this thing? Um, Liz? Hello?"
"Hmm? What?"
"I asked what you have in here, bricks?"
"No, nothing much. Sunscreen, water bottle, my book, your radio thing."
"Speaking of the radio, we need to test it. Your stuff will be OK here." Fitz tossed her bag into a hammock next to his own bag. He pulled out his radio, then reached for Liz's bag.
"May I?"
Liz nodded. Fitz opened the top of the bag and removed Liz's radio. He led her down a path into the trees.
At the fork in the path, he pointed, "That's the path to the lighthouse. And this path leads to a rocky stretch of the shoreline. Come on."
After walking a few hundred yards, they came to huge rocks, with the sea just beyond. The Pride was barely visible through the scrubby beach vegetation.
Fitz put on his headset and turned on his radio. "Testing. Anyone there?" All he heard was static.
Liz picked up her radio and turned it on. Fitz yelped and yanked off his headset.
"Are you trying to deafen me? Your sending volume is way too high. Here, let me adjust it." he fiddled with the radio and handed it to Liz.
"Here. Let's try that again."
They both put on their headsets and tested the radios. Fitz began to walk back along the path. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"How about a bit farther away?"
"Still fine."
"Right. Nothing to do now but wait."
"You want me to wait here?"
Fitz nearly lost his temper, but realized that Liz was teasing. "Only if you want to. I figure we have a little time to swim and relax. Catch up to me. I'll wait here." He was about to switch off his radio when he heard Liz singing.
The temperature's risin'
The winds are gonna blow
Hey Fitz can you hear me?
The beach is the place to go.
Then he saw her. She was half jogging, half dancing along the path, while singing her own version of some song. He wasn't sure what the song was until she got to the refrain.
It's raining men, hallelujah!
There will be cops all around.*
When she reached Fitz, he was laughing and applauding. Liz made her most demure curtsy.
* modified from "It's Raining Men," Jabara and Schaffer
Posted on Friday, 12 October 2001
They returned to the hammock and put away the radios. Fitz picked up his snorkeling equipment. "So how about a little snorkeling? One of the divers showed me the best places to see reef fish."
"Aha. So that's why you were already wet when I got here." She blushed, remembering her reaction to that first sight of him on the beach.
"So, shall we get you some snorkeling gear, then? Or do you not want to get your hair wet?"
"Are you afraid George won't follow me if I look like a drowned rat?"
"You couldn't possibly. I just meant that, well, some women fuss about ruining their hair by going swimming."
Hands on hips, Liz stood in front of Fitz and gave him a mock glare. "I am not one of those helpless, high-maintenance, hothouse types you're probably used to."
He shook his head and watched Liz check out a mask. She held the mask to her face and breathed in through her nose. The mask stuck to her face. Then she breathed out and caught the mask as it fell.
"OK, it's a good fit." She grabbed her fins and life vest. "Let's go."
When they got to the edge of the water, Liz walked in up to her ankles.
She turned and batted her eyelashes at Fitz. "Ooh, Fitz, the water is so wet! Oh, I'll have to lean on you while I put my fins on. Oh, oh, help me adjust the buckle on the life vest."
"Enough! I give up. Send helpless-hothouse-Liz away and bring back I-can-handle-it-Liz."
"Are you sure? I thought men liked helpless women."
"Well, it's nice to be needed, but I don't care for the clinging vine act. But if you're determined to be helpless-" Fitz swept Liz up into his arms as if she were a feather and started to walk farther out into the water.
"You wouldn't!" she squealed.
"Wouldn't I?" Oh, God, deja vu! Am I daydreaming again?
He sighed and set her down. "It's tempting, but you'd get hurt if I dropped you in this shallow water. Anyhow, I have to get my fins before the waves wash them away."
Liz was surprised to discover that she was disappointed when he set her down. If he'd carried me out into the water, the splash would have been worth the extra time in his arms.
They swam out to the reef Mort had shown Fitz earlier. Schools of yellowtail snappers swarmed around them. Sergeant major fish darted around the reef. Flounder were camouflaged on the sandy bottom. Liz grabbed Fitz's arm and pointed at a small barracuda.
They snorkeled for a few minutes more and then headed back to shore. Liz took off her gear, and plopped into a vacant beach chair. She closed her eyes and wriggled her toes in the sand. When she looked up, Fitz was gone.
He returned a minute later, carrying her beach bag. "Here you go. I'm going back to the hammock."
"So we're just in radio contact from now on?"
"Yes. George will probably be here soon." He knelt by her chair.
"Look, Liz, we can still change things. I can start an argument with George and get him far enough down the path to be out of the way. If you're having second thoughts?" He put his hand over hers.
She shook her head. "The swim did a lot to calm me. I can do this. Hothouse-helpless-Liz was a momentary aberration, I promise."
He squeezed her hand and started to get up. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
"For luck," he said and walked away.
Posted on Thursday, 18 October 2001
Liz sat motionless for a few minutes. She held her fingertips to her lips. Well, there goes my calm state of mind. Breathe, Lizzie girl, breathe. She picked up the headset of the radio and examined the controls. There was a switch marked "off," "rec only," "send & rec," and "send only." She set it to "receive only" and put on the headset.
Fitz flopped into the oversized hammock hanging from two palm trees. He looked around and saw that all the hammocks had been claimed. Some of them were occupied by couples. Fitz smiled, imagining Liz sharing his hammock. As his thoughts drifted back over the last few days, he wondered how he had ever thought her merely "tolerable."
His eyes fell on the headset wire protruding from his bag. He pulled out the radio and scowled at it. Get a grip, man! This is a job. Maybe when it's over, but this afternoon is too important to screw up. Concentrate! He put on the headset and turned on the radio.
Liz was almost asleep in her beach chair when the headset crackled to life. "Heads up gentlemen. Um, make that gentlemen and lady. This is Sanderson, on the Pride. Our subject just boarded the tender. I'll get on after we get this batch of passengers on board. Could we all check in, please?"
Fitz: "Fitz, in the shade. I can see the dock from here."
Liz: "Liz. I'm on the beach and I'll wander toward the dock now. Once I see George, I'll set my radio to 'send only' and leave the headset around my neck."
Lt. Smith of the local police: "Smith, at the lighthouse. My men are all in place."
Sanderson: "OK. Looks like we're all on the air. Liz, we have to take our cues from you, since you'll be sending but not receiving our comments. Good luck!"
Liz: "Thanks, I'll take all the luck I can get."
For luck. Liz sighed and touched her lips lightly. She could see the tender approaching the dock. She wrapped her beach sarong around her waist and sauntered toward the dock, singing to herself (and the team) as she walked.
All by myself
I'm waiting here
Right by the dock
I see George*
Liz could hear laughter from her radio audience. She said softly, "Go ahead and talk about me all you want, boys, I'm switching to 'send only.' And here I go!"
Fitz watched her stroll along the beach and pretend to listen to her radio. She was humming something he couldn't recognize. Then he heard another voice on the radio.
Sanderson: "Gutsy lady."
Fitz: "I don't know if it's guts or bravado, but she's ready to do this. Can you see her from where you are?"
Sanderson: "No."
Fitz: "She is strolling along like she's in her own little world. But she's watching for George. This is going to be a perfect 'accidental' meeting. Aha! We have contact!"
"Liz!"
She hummed a bit louder.
"Hey! LIZ!"
She looked around for the source of the voice as if she didn't know where George was. Slipping the headset down around her neck, she squealed, "George! Hi! Isn't this beach just perfect?"
He looked at her approvingly. "The beach looks OK. You, on the other hand, look absolutely perfect. Dorothy Lamour never looked that good in a sarong."
"Oh, George, you're so sweet today."
It was a good thing that Liz had changed the setting on her radio. The groans and retching sounds made by Smith and Sanderson would have been audible to anyone within three feet of Liz's headset. Darcy was too dignified to make sounds like that, but he was thinking them.
George smiled. That was easy. I'm forgiven already.
"But don't think you're completely off the hook for last night. I'm still not too happy about that Mary what's-her-name." She pouted.
"Aww, you look so cute when you do that." He kissed her nose. Just then a waiter passed by with a tray of frozen drinks. George hailed the waiter, "What are those?"
"Daiquiris, sir. Banana or strawberry?"
"Banana for me. Liz?"
"Strawberry, please."
George signed for the drinks. "So, what now, Liz?"
"Let's get some lunch to go with our drinks."
The last of the passengers had left the tender, and Officer Sanderson stepped onto the dock. He couldn't see Liz or George in the crowd, so he walked to the shaded area and found Fitz stretched out in his hammock. Fitz had removed his headset, but had it lying nearby so he could hear anything the team said. Sanderson removed his headset, too, and turned off his radio.
"So, now we sit around and wait."
"Afraid so," replied Fitz. "I confess, I hate this part. She plans to say she wants to walk off her lunch with a stroll to the lighthouse. I wish she'd hurry up."
*Modified from "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen
Posted on Thursday, 18 October 2001
George was on his second burger and third drink. Liz was eating the last tiny bites of her salads while finishing her first drink.
"I'm stuffed," George declared.
"You must work out to be able to eat like that and be in such good shape." She smiled as she remembered how Fitz had looked that morning. Mmm, excellent shape. George, of course, thought she was smiling at him.
Liz stretched. "I think I could do with a walk. I've been a slug all morning, just lying in the sun. Someone said there's a lighthouse on the island. Let's see if we can find the path to it."
"We could just stay here," said George as he looked around for a bar waiter.
"There won't be so many people at the lighthouse," she murmured.
"Well, why not."
They got up from the picnic table, and Liz pointed to a trail that led from the shaded area. She could see Fitz in his hammock, but George hadn't noticed him. She had a moment of panic when she saw that Fitz was asleep. Dammit, Fitz, it's time. What are you doing falling asleep like that? How can you be so calm?!?
"Huh? What, George?" George had been speaking, but she hadn't been paying attention.
"Men's room," he repeated. "Back in a minute."
"Oh, OK."
As soon as George had disappeared into the men's room, Liz reset her radio switch and hissed into the microphone.
Fitz had been listening to Liz and George's conversation with little interest until she brought up the path to the lighthouse.
"There won't be many people at the lighthouse," he heard her say seductively. He shut his eyes and breathed slowly and deeply. She'll be fine. Don't panic. She'll be fine. His meditation was interrupted by Liz's voice in his headset.
Liz: "Psst! Fitz! Are you awake? Answer me quick! George has just gone to the gent's and then we're off on our walk."
Fitz: "I'm awake, I'm awake. I'll move as soon as you're out of sight. He's coming, reset your radio."
George looked at Liz. She had her Walkman headset on again, and was humming along to her music. She looked so cute, and she finally seemed willing. He hoped the lighthouse wasn't too far away.
"Let's go!"
Liz jumped. She quickly turned the switch on the radio and slid the headset down around her neck. "You startled me!"
"Sorry. Which way is this lighthouse of yours?" And they set off along the path to the lighthouse.
Fitz: "She's moving. Everyone get that?"
Smith: "Yep, we're ready. I have a few guys walking down the path, so we're covered. Your boat is waiting by the rocks."
Fitz got out of his hammock and picked up his bag. He found Liz's beach chair and picked up her beach bag, in case she would want it at the other side of the island. He followed the path he and Liz had taken earlier. He scrambled over the rocks and found a policeman with a Zodiac, ready to take him to the rendezvous.
The policeman took the bags and Fitz climbed into the boat. They edged away from the rocks and Fitz leaned back.
Fitz: "I'm in the boat. Can you hear me? I'm not picking up anything from Liz."
Sanderson: "I hear you. But I'm not getting Liz, either."
Smith: "I read you both, but nothing from Liz."
Fitz raked his fingers through his hair. "How much farther?" he asked the policeman.
"Just a few minutes, sir. See?" He pointed to the lighthouse, which was just coming into view.
The policeman guided the Zodiac toward a beach. Fitz jumped out, carrying the bags. A tall man stepped out of the stand of palm trees and walked toward Fitz.
"Hello. I'm Lt. Smith. Good to meet you."
"Fitz Darcy. Pleased to meet you. Still nothing from Liz?"
"No. I can't figure out what happened. It's possible that she accidentally turned it off?"
Fitz groaned, "I hope not."
"Let's sit down and wait." He gestured toward a small clearing behind the vegetation. "Nothing we can do now until they get here."
The sign read 'Lighthouse, 1/2 mi.'
"See, George? It isn't far now."
He put his arms around her. "We could stop here. There's nobody around."
Liz slipped out of his arms. "But I want to see the lighthouse." The radio fell from her waist and she quickly scooped it up and hooked it back on her skirt.
"Do you want me to carry that for you?" George patted the pocked of his shorts.
"No, it's OK." She tucked the headset into her waist and glanced down at the radio. Oh no! How long has it been turned off? And how am I going to turn it on again?
She started walking again, almost skipping. "Isn't it pretty here? Do you know what those flowers are?"
George shrugged. He was getting winded, and Liz kept moving faster in her excitement at seeing the lighthouse. Damn lighthouse. Who gives a-
A man in shorts and a flowered shirt approached them on the path. "How ya doin'?"
"Hi! Just fine," said Liz brightly. "Have you been to the lighthouse?"
"Yeah," the man answered. "It's pretty cool." He waved and continued down the path.
Liz started walking again and called to George, "Look! There it is!"
George looked up at the lighthouse, and Liz quickly moved the switch on her radio.
She broke into a trot. "Hurrah! We're almost there. Come on!"
Fitz was pacing up and down in the small clearing. Smith shook his head. "Son, you need to sit down a bit. You're like a bear in a cage."
Fitz sat on a large rock. "I feel like a bear in a cage. I'd feel a lot better if I could hear her."
Smith was about to answer when the light on his walkie-talkie blinked. He pressed a button, "Smith."
"Everything is OK sir. I just passed them about a half mile from the lighthouse.
"Good." Smith smiled at Fitz, "Well, at least we know she's all right."
And then they heard Liz's voice on the radio, "Hurrah! We're almost there. Come on!"
Fitz let out his breath slowly. He stood up and stretched, then sat down again. He hadn't realized how tense his muscles were.
Smith pushed another button on the walkie-talkie. "They're almost here. Be ready. Paul, move into place by the lighthouse. The rest of you, stand ready. Don't move in until you see that Paul has him. We don't want to spook him."
Liz and George walked into the clearing around the lighthouse. She tipped her head back to look up at the lighthouse. A man in shorts and a T-shirt that said "It's better in the Bahamas" appeared from the other side. She looked at him and smiled, "Hi! Is the lighthouse open?"
"No."
"Oh, too bad." Still gazing up at the lighthouse, Liz started to sidle away from George.
The man looked at George and said, "George Wickham, you're under arrest."
George moved like lightning. He grabbed Liz, pulled the radio headset from the waist of her sarong, and wrapped the wire around her neck. "Get back!" he shouted, tightening the wire. He had his other arm around Liz's waist and began to drag Liz toward the water. As she stumbled along, she stepped on her sarong, and it fell to the sand, tangling in her feet.
"Ow!"
George yanked her to her feet. "Shut up and quit squirming!"
Fitz, Smith, and two other policemen stepped out of the vegetation and faced George.
Fitz looked George in the eye and quietly said, "Let her go, George."
Posted on Monday, 22 October 2001
"Let her go, George."
"Don't come any closer," snarled George, as he tugged on the wire around Liz's neck.
Fitz and George glared at each other.
"Let her go," repeated Fitz calmly. "She has nothing to do with this."
"I don't think so. She's involved in this up to her cute little sarong. No, Lizzie and me, we're going to go for a ride in your nice little boat over there."
Liz stood limply in George's grasp. She had no other option. The wire dug into her neck. George was so much bigger than she was. If she'd had on her high heels, she might have tried stomping his instep, but her lightweight sneakers were too soft to have any impact on his heavy running shoes. Fitz, she prayed silently. DO something.
"Let her go, George." Fitz's eyes never left George's face.
"Tell ya what, Fitzie. You want your bait back? Once I get away from here, I'll toss her overboard like fish bait. You can put on your little SEAL suit and swim out to rescue her. Oops, I forgot, you flunked out, didn't you?"
"This isn't going to work, George," said Fitz evenly. "Let her go. You won't get anywhere in that little boat. You don't know these islands. The boat has no charts in it."
Liz stared at Fitz, willing herself to absorb his calmness. Don't struggle. It'll be all right. She swallowed. God, that wire hurt!
George turned himself and Liz so that he could see the Zodiac better. Liz was afraid of what would happen if George got her into the boat.
Fitz had moved so that he was still facing George. Their eyes remained locked on each other. Fitz looked calm. George was sweating and breathing more rapidly. He was beginning to panic, and Liz realized that this might make him even more reckless.
"Let her go, George."
"F*** you, Fitz Darcy!"
Liz thought she saw a shadow move across the sand. She closed her eyes. There was a click and a voice behind her said, "Let her go. NOW!"
George felt the barrel of a gun at his neck. The click of the hammer being drawn back was unmistakable. He threw Liz to the ground.
"You b***h!" He screamed. "You set me up!"
He tried to kick her, but by now three policemen restrained him.
Fitz ran to Liz and dropped to the sand beside her. He put his arms around her as she began to cry. Despite the warm sun, she was shivering. He reached for her sarong and wrapped it around her shoulders.
George sneered at the couple. "Some big, brave hero you have there, Liz. All he could do was stand there and whine 'let her go' at me. So much for all that commando training, huh, Fitzie? What a loser."
Liz buried her head in Fitz's shoulder. He stroked her hair and rocked her gently. "You're all right now, Liz. You were very brave."
The police had handcuffed George and sat him down in the sand, some distance away from Fitz and Liz. Fitz looked up to see Smith and Sanderson standing over them.
"Liz?" he said gently. "Can you stand up?"
With a sniffle and a nod, she stood up.
Fitz took Liz by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Liz, I have to go with the police. I'll stay in Nassau tonight and see you tomorrow. Sanderson will take you back to the beach." He gently brushed back strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "Anne will be waiting for you, so you don't have to be alone. OK?"
She nodded.
"Good girl." He smiled tightly. "See you tomorrow."
Sanderson looked at Liz. "Can you walk back, or would you prefer a ride in the Zodiac?"
She looked at the boat George had tried to drag her to. "I'll walk."
Someone found Liz a bottle of water, and she sipped it as Sanderson led her down the path back to the main beach. Fitz watched until they were out of sight around a curve. He sighed and looked over at George. He could feel the waves of hatred emanating from George, all focused on him.
"You #$%^&!" George yelled. "Why can't you stay the @#$%^ out of my life?"
Fitz looked down at George coolly. "Lots of reasons. My sister, for one. Liz, for another. And then there's Lydia Phillips. Remember her, George? Silly kid? Under age, lots of nice jewelry--like the bracelet you gave Liz."
George swore again. The seriousness of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn't been worried about Fitz's presence, since there couldn't be any charges against him from his incident with Georgiana. After all, Fitz's unexpected arrival that day had kept him from doing anything serious with her. But how did Fitz know about that brat, Lydia? God, she was an idiot. Her jewelry had served him well, though. Some pieces he fenced for money to live on. Some he used as "date bait," as he liked to call it. That's what Liz's bracelet had been meant for.
George swore again when he realized that, of all the things he had done, giving Liz that bracelet was the worst. He knew enough about antique jewelry to know it could be identified and traced. He had assumed that Liz was too dim to recognize its value as an antique. Now he wondered. There was more to her than he had thought. Hmm, is she more to Fitz than it seemed, too?
In one last attempt to get back at Fitz, George spoke again. "So, Fitz. Has Liz worked for you long? Or did you hire her just for this occasion?" Fitz ignored him, so George tried again. "I guess she's enough for you. But I found her disappointing. Not nearly woman enough for me. I should have let you keep her."
It took every ounce of self-control Fitz had to keep from smashing George's face in. His stomach was in knots, but he kept his face impassive and his voice even.
"Nice try, George. But it isn't working. I know that a pervert who specializes in teenagers wouldn't know a real woman when he met one." With that, Fitz turned and walked down the beach.
The police maneuvered George into the Zodiac and took him to their boat, which had been waiting just out of sight of the lighthouse beach. Smith and Fitz waited for the Zodiac to return for them.
Smith smiled at Fitz. "Man, she was really something. Cool under fire."
Fitz sighed, "Yes, but after the emergency, she'll need to let out the tension." He described the fits of giggles that followed the episode in the casino. "But I fear that this time the release will be tears, not laughter."
Posted on Thursday, 1 November 2001
Liz numbly trudged along the path. Her neck hurt. She was thirsty, but it hurt to swallow her water. And she couldn't decide if she was warm or cold.
Sanderson looked at her and pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Is Ms Eliot on the island?"
The voice at the other end answered, "Yes."
"Bring one of the beach wheelchairs and ask Ms Eliot to come with you."
"Yes, sir."
Soon they were met by another of the Pride's security officers, jogging along the trail and pushing a wheelchair with fat plastic wheels.
"What's that for?" whispered Liz.
"For you," answered Anne, catching up to the group. "You're on the verge of shock. Come on, sit down and I'll wrap a few of these beach towels around you."
They took Liz to the divers' house, where Anne fixed a cup of tea for Liz and put some ointment on her neck.
"It won't scar. But I think it may look bruised by tomorrow. Does it hurt much?"
"Better now," whispered Liz."
"So that we don't stir up any curiosity among the passengers, we're going to take you back to the ship on the last crew tender. Why don't you try to take a nap. I'll be back to wake you when we're ready to go."
Anne drew the curtains closed and left Liz in the darkened room. Despite the warmth of the day, Liz felt cold. She pulled the covers up and reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table as the tears began to pour down her face.
Fitz pulled on the jeans he had thrown into his bag that morning. He looked into the mirror over the tiny sink in the head. What a day! I look knackered. Not surprising. I FEEL knackered. He pulled his polo shirt over his head and raked his fingers through his curls. He walked up on deck to find Lt. Smith leaning on the rail.
"We're almost to Nassau. You look like a man in want of a cup of coffee. Did you eat anything today?"
"Actually, now that I think of it, I never did eat lunch."
"Come on." Lt. Smith led Fitz inside and poured a mug of coffee for each of them and picked up a tin of cookies. They joined the arresting officer, who Fitz knew only as Paul.
"How's the prisoner?" asked Lt. Smith.
"Not a happy sailor," answered Paul. "Well done, Mr. Darcy. You really kept your cool out there. Have you handled hostage situations before?"
"A few."
"You did a great job of keeping him focused on you so that Tom could get around behind him. Excuse my frankness, but well, we didn't know you, and I was afraid you might rush him."
"No, I could see your man moving. Plus, I didn't want to give George a reason to hurt her any worse than he already had."
"Well, just let me say that I admire your self control."
Lt. Smith held up his coffee mug for a toast and said, "To discipline and teamwork!" The men clinked their mugs together. Paul put his mug down and left the room.
"You know, Fitz, I wasn't worried that you would rush Wickham. But I was afraid that you would beat him to a pulp after he let go of Liz."
"Don't think I wasn't tempted. But I didn't want to do anything that could jeopardize the case." He paused. "I have to tell you, though, keeping my hands off George was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do." No, the SECOND hardest. The hardest thing was handing over Liz to Sanderson and leaving her on the island.
When the police boat arrived in Nassau, Fitz saw Charles waiting on the dock. As soon as the boat was tied at the dock, Fitz got off and filled Charles in on the events of the day.
Two police officers led a handcuffed George Wickham off the boat. As soon as he saw Fitz, George let out a stream of expletives. He continued cursing all the way down the dock and into the waiting police car.
Charles shook his head, "Nice guy. He really likes you!"
"Not funny, Charles."
"You look beat. I'll go see that Wickham is booked. Why don't you go to the hotel. Here's your room key, you're all checked in. Take a shower and by then maybe you'll feel up to joining the Mr. Gardiner, Jane, and me for dinner."
"I didn't bring any other clothes, Charles. I'm a mess. Anyhow, I am too tired to be good dinner company. I'll order room service, and we can catch up in my room after you've had dinner. Tell Mr. Gardiner I'll see him in the morning."
Fitz put his coffee cup in its saucer and walked to the window of his hotel room. He could see lights in the distance. Several cruise ships were at the dock. Tomorrow the Pride would join them. His mind wandered again over the last few days. Now George was in jail, and he could focus his attention on Liz. He sighed. Liz. We didn't get off to the best start, but things seemed to get better. Sometimes, anyhow. At times she's so cool. Other times, she's relaxed and playful. What happens next?
His meditations were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.
"Fitz Darcy."
"Fitz, it's Anne."
"Is she all right?"
"Yes, I just left her to take a shower now and go to bed. It was a rough day. Poor girl cried her eyes out when it was all over. Nervous tension, like the giggles the other night, I suppose."
"Yes, I was afraid it wouldn't be giggles this time. How does her neck look?"
"It will probably be a bit bruised, but she'll be OK. "
"Thanks for taking care of her, Anne. And please thank Fred for all the help we got from the crew, especially Sanderson and his security guys."
"Will do."
"I've got to go. Someone's at the door. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Fitz."
Fitz opened the door and Charles walked in, looking very chipper.
"Feeling better? You should have come to dinner. Everything was delicious. And Jane looked so lovely. She really is an angel, Fitz." He saw Fitz raise one eyebrow. "I know, I know, she's a client's daughter. But the case is almost over now."
Fitz sighed, "Charles-"
"She might be the one, Fitz. You know, THE ONE!"
"Geez, Charles, there's something you've never said before.
"OK, so I've been wrong a few times."
"A few times?"
"Ha, ha. At least I've let myself fall in love a couple of times. I don't think I've ever heard you describe a girl as THE ONE. Not even a 'maybe.' And it isn't as though none has tried."
"Maybe that's the problem. The ones who've thrown themselves at me weren't worth the trouble of catching. No offense to your sister, but..." He shrugged.
"No offense taken. I've tried to tell Caroline that you aren't interested. You should date more, Fitz. She thinks you're sitting at home pining for her. Maybe if she could see that you had someone in your life, she'd give up."
The phone rang, sparing Fitz the trouble of coming up with a response.
"Fitz Darcy."
"Mr. Darcy, this is the switchboard operator. Is Mr. Bingley with you, by any chance?"
"He's right here." Fitz held out the phone. "For you."
"Bingley. Yes. Are you sure? When? I thought that wasn't until next week. You know, I'm not sure you can extradite me from the Bahamas." At this comment, Fitz looked alarmed, and Charles grinned at him before continuing the conversation, "I'll call the airline right away. See you tomorrow."
"What was that about?"
"The Mansfield case. I'm supposed to testify, remember?"
"Yes, but I didn't think it would be that soon."
"Neither did I, but the District Attorney has changed the order of witnesses. So I have to grab the first flight out tomorrow morning. When you see Jane, please tell her that I-Oh, never mind, I'll write her a note before I go." He walked to the door.
"Safe trip home, Charles."
"See you back at the office, Fitz. Goodnight."
The moon shone brightly on the sea when Anne Eliot entered the Bridge. The captain of the Pride turned to look at her.
"How is she?"
Anne walked to the large windows and stood beside Captain Wentworth. "She's finally sleeping. She's pretty shaken up. He tried to take her hostage, Fred. It must have been terrible for her. Sanderson says she was very brave. Poor Fitz, having to watch him hold onto her like that."
She shivered as she thought about it. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I think I have some idea of how Fitz must have felt."
Posted on Thursday, 1 November 2001
Fitz rolled over and tried to bury his face in the pillow, but the early morning sunlight wouldn't let him go back to sleep. He knew he should have closed the drapes last night, but the moonlight had been so soothing. He walked to the window and looked toward the docks. He could see a ship in the channel, leaving Nassau. It was one of those ultra-modern ones. Good Lord, are there purple neon lights inside there? Uncle Lewis would rather die than see one of his ships decked out like that.
Fitz looked farther down the channel and saw a familiar ship. He smiled at the Pride's classic lines. She wasn't moving. He guessed that she was waiting her turn for a tug to maneuver her into the dock. He looked at his watch. 6:30 AM. The Pride wouldn't dock until 9.
Fitz turned on the coffee maker and got dressed. With a mug of coffee in his hand, he opened the door and walked out onto the little balcony. He sat in one chair and propped his feet up on another. He looked down on the little park and beach in front of the hotel. The upscale hotel chain had done a wonderful job rebuilding this old hotel, right in the city of Nassau. It would be a short walk from here to the courthouse. Thinking of the courthouse reminded him of his breakfast appointment with Mr. Gardiner and Jane. Reluctantly, he rose and went back inside.
Since he was ready early, Fitz decided to explore the hotel a bit. He bought a newspaper in the hotel's gift shop and was about to return to the lobby when he saw a rack of post cards. He picked out a few cards for his sister and cousin. On his way back to the sales clerk, he stopped to look at something else.
"Mr. Darcy?" He turned to see a slender blonde smiling at him.
"Ms Gardiner. Good morning."
"Please, call me Jane."
"And I'm Fitz."
"Are you picking out a present for someone?"
"No, well, sort of. It's a long story. I'll tell you later." He made his selection and paid for his purchases. "Are you ready for breakfast?"
"Yes, Dad will be down in a minute. Where's Charles?"
"He's flying back to New York this morning. Didn't he explain it to you?"
"No."
Fitz noticed that she looked disappointed, but he didn't feel comfortable explaining the details of a case to someone not involved with it, so he didn't elaborate. Anyway, he reasoned, Charles had left her a note.
Liz awoke when the Pride stopped moving. She looked out the window, and could see Nassau in the distance. She sighed when she thought of the day ahead. Can I really face George in the courtroom?
She took a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes weren't as puffy as she had expected. A good night's sleep had fixed them. But her neck was a sight to behold. She looked as if she were wearing a necklace of tiny bruises stung on the mark left by the wire. Liz did a quick mental inventory of her wardrobe. Shaking her head, she called room service.
Fitz finished his story of the previous day's adventure. He had tried to minimize the part about George holding Liz hostage, but even so, Jane's eyes were wide with shock.
"So you can see why I don't think she should go to the arraignment this morning. Your father and I can go. I'd much prefer that you stay with her this morning."
Jane nodded. She had been quiet ever since Fitz told her that Charles was gone.
Mr. Gardiner broke the silence. "I'm sorry that Liz was put into such a difficult position. I'm just glad that he didn't get away and hurt her any worse than that. You both have done a fine job. I'm grateful to you."
Fitz stood up. "I have to get back to the ship and change before I go to court." He shook Mr. Gardiner's hand. "I'll see you in court, sir."
"Room Service!"
Liz wrapped the bathrobe tightly around her and pulled up the collar. She opened the door and the steward entered with her breakfast.
After the steward left, Liz turned toward the table where the tray had been placed. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Staring at the way she had arranged the collar of the robe, she thought back to the semester when she had volunteered at a women's shelter. Scarves, long sleeves, lots of makeup. She remembered the various ways women had covered up the signs of abuse. Deliberately, she turned away from the mirror and toward her breakfast.
Fitz checked out of the hotel and walked toward the dock. Nassau was still quiet this early. In a few hours, the streets would be filled with tourists, shopping for bargains in the straw market and T-shirt shops. A few horse-drawn carriages were already waiting under the shade awning, and some women were setting up their braiding materials in the pavilion near the dock.
The Pride had just put the gangways in place, and customs and immigration officials walked on board to handle the formalities. As soon as the ship was cleared, Fitz boarded and ran to his cabin to change clothes.
After he finished dressing, he glanced at his watch. Damn! No time! He saw his steward in the hallway and gave him the package and instructions. Then he left the ship and walked to the courthouse.
Posted on Thursday, 8 November 2001
Liz had just finished breakfast when she heard a knock at the door.
"Yes?"
"Package for you, Ms Bennet."
She pulled the robe tightly around her neck again and opened the door.
A steward smiled and handed her a small gift bag. "Mr. Darcy sends his compliments, Miss."
Liz stepped back into the room and peeked into the bag to see a profusion of colors-navy blue, red and white, yellow. What is all this? She reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of silk. There were three scarves, one navy, one red and white, and one a tropical print in shades of yellow and orange. And all three were long and narrow, just the thing to tie around a bruised neck.
Dazed, she sat down on the bed. How had he known she'd need these?
Fitz met Mr. Gardiner at the courthouse.
"Have you heard anything, sir?"
"They should bring him up in about a half hour. I want to thank you again for all you've done. I shudder to think what he might have done to Lydia if he'd stayed with her. She could be very annoying to a man with such a filthy temper."
"Frankly, as well as I know him, I was still shocked that he'd hide behind a woman in such a way."
"Disgusting," agreed Mr. Gardiner.
Fitz changed the subject slightly, "I made an appointment to discuss the case with the prosecutor this morning. I'd prefer to get the initial round of questions out of the way in person."
"I quite agree. I suppose you will have to fly down to testify at his trial?"
Fitz nodded and smiled grimly. "What a sordid reason to come to such a lovely place."
"What about yesterday. What will Liz do about that?"
"I'm hoping that she'll decide not to press charges. We've got George on a much larger charge than assault. Please don't think that I am not angry over what he did to her. But she's a lawyer. She'll see that adding her assault to what he did to Lydia will just muddy things for the jury. Better to keep them focused on one victim."
Further conversation was stopped by the arrival of the court clerk. "Excuse me, gentlemen. We're about to start."
Liz studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked very nautical with her navy shorts, white T-shirt and the scarf tied jauntily around her neck. Sunglasses would hide the remaining puffiness around her eyes. Not bad, she thought.
There was another knock on the door. Muttering something about Grand Central Station, Liz opened the door.
"Jane!"
"Liz! Fitz Darcy told me what happened. Are you all right? Oh, you're wearing one of the scarves he bought."
"How do you know about the scarves?"
"I was there when he bought them, this morning in the hotel gift shop."
"Ah, so you're the reason they match my wardrobe."
"No, he picked them out by himself. I didn't even know they were for you. Um," Jane hesitated.
"What?"
"I have something to tell you and something to ask you."
"Tell first."
"Liz, Fitz says you shouldn't go to the arraignment this morning."
"Why? Doesn't he think I can handle it?"
"No, it isn't that. He does want to spare you any discomfort, but more than that, he doesn't want George to see that he hurt you."
Liz gestured toward the scarf, "But-"
"Even a jerk like George can figure out what you're hiding, Liz. Don't give him the satisfaction. Besides," added Jane with a mischievous smile, "we could put the time to good use, shopping."
"Sold! And the question?"
"How would you like a roommate? Dad is going to try to arrange for me to finish the cruise with you. Would that be all right?"
"All right? It would be wonderful! Oh, Jane, I hope it can be arranged!"
"Dad is at the arraignment now, and then he'll call the captain and see what sort of strings he can pull."
"That went well-sort of," remarked Fitz as he and Mr. Gardner walked to the office of one of the prosecuting attorneys.
"I would love for Wickham to come to trial in front of that judge," answered Mr. Gardiner. "He had no taste for Wickham's foul language. I really do believe that one more word and Wickham would have been arraigned in absentia!"
"As you can see, George has very little self-control."
They arrived at the office and were greeted by the attorney who had handled the arraignment.
"Please have a seat, gentlemen." The attorney gestured to the chairs facing his desk as he sat down behind it. "Well, that was a lively arraignment! Generally, the accused does his best to look contrite. It's never a good idea to make a judge angry. Word gets around that a defendant is a troublemaker, you know."
"Troublemaker is an understatement. I've known George all my life and I can tell you that he will show no remorse. Nothing is ever his fault. But the reason we're here is not just to discuss George's failings as a human being. We have some evidence to give you."
Fitz pulled out a velvet jewelry box, opened it, and placed it on the attorney's desk.
"Wow! Nice bracelet. What does it have to do with the case?"
Mr. Gardiner picked up the story. "It is one of the pieces that Wickham stole from my niece. I'm sure you have the list in your files, but I believe that Mr. Darcy has the information from the insurance company." He gestured to Darcy, who handed the file to the attorney.
"And how did you recover the bracelet, Mr. Gardiner?"
"I didn't. Wickham gave the bracelet to Mr. Darcy's associate, Ms Bennet. She recognized that it is quite old, so she took it to Mr. Darcy for identification."
"I see. This certainly will help our case. Mr. Darcy, I'm going to ask you to give a statement to one of my clerks. Is this, um," he glanced down at the pad on which he had taken notes, "Um, Ms Bennet. Is she available to give us a statement?"
"I think she'd rather not. He roughed her up yesterday, and she's a bit shaky. But you can interview her over the phone and I'm sure she will be willing to fly down to testify."
"Very well. Mr. Darcy, my clerk is just outside." He stood up and shook Fitz's hand. Then he turned to Mr. Gardiner, "Sir, if I could have just a few more minutes of your time to discuss your niece and her participation in the trial."
By the time Fitz's statement had been printed out and signed, Mr. Gardiner was ready to leave.
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Darcy. I have to get back to the hotel and make some phone calls. Would you care to meet me for lunch later? I'll make reservations at the Atlantis."
Fitz paused. Liz would probably spend the day catching up with Jane. He decided to give them time to do whatever "girly" stuff they had in mind, so he took Mr. Gardiner up on his offer.
"What's this?" The desk clerk picked up an envelope on the floor.
"I don't know," replied the bellman. "Who is it addressed to?"
"Beats me, the writing is illegible. Looks like Jane something, but there's no room number."
"Give it to me. I'll take it to the office."
The desk clerk handed over the envelope and turned to face the man who was approaching the desk. "Can I help you, Sir?"
"Are there any messages or packages for Gardiner?"
"Let me check." She looked on the shelf behind her. "Yes, there is one FedEx." She smiled and handed it over. Mr. Gardiner thanked her and walked to the elevator.
Posted on Thursday, 8 November 2001
Liz and Jane walked down the gangway into the sunlight.
"What a glorious day!" exclaimed Liz. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm feeling better already."
Jane put on her sunglasses and smiled. "Let's shop!"
They walked up the dock toward the shopping area. The hair braiding women called out to Liz, "Hey Lady. Have your hair braided. You have pretty hair, it will look good braided."
Liz laughed and shook her head. The two continued to stroll toward the Straw Market. They passed some street vendors, where Liz bought a bead bracelet. Liz glanced at a T-shirt shop, but Jane assured her there would be plenty more to see.
The Straw Market was a maze of stalls. Vendors sold straw bags and hats, T-shirts, beads, and all sorts of souvenirs. Beach sarongs were draped at the backs of stalls. Liz and Jane wandered through the market, surveying the merchandise. Suddenly, Liz stopped and pointed.
"Look at that bag! It looks just like the Kate Spade bag I saw in New York-except for the label, of course-and the price! My sister will love it." Liz bought the straw bag for her sister and a small straw evening bag for herself.
Working their way through the market, they found themselves in a courtyard. Vendors had their wares set up around the perimeter of the courtyard. Liz and Jane held up various batik-printed sundresses and sarongs. Finally, Liz bought another sarong and Jane bought a sundress.
When they reached the end of the market, they found themselves on Bay Street, where there were more upscale shops. Jane led Liz to a small shop that sold locally made jewelry and crafts.
"Oh! Look at the lovely Christmas ornaments!" Liz made a beeline for the artificial Christmas tree. She found an angel made of seashells and several animals carved from pieces of conch shell.
A sales clerk approached Liz, "Excuse me, Miss. Would you like me to find boxes for those? Oh, what a pretty scarf you have on. If you like scarves, we have some lovely hand-painted ones over here."
Liz wandered over to the scarves. Jane joined her.
Liz sighed, "They really are lovely, aren't they? But they're expensive."
Jane nodded and pulled out a marbled green scarf. "Have you worn the green dress yet, Liz? This would be perfect for it, and you may still need something. Splurge. I'll tell Dad you deserve a bonus for hazardous duty."
"Jane you are such a bad influence on me. Oh, why not?" She picked up the scarf.
Fitz walked from the courthouse to the shops on Bay Street. He saw an Internet café and decided to check his email while he waited for lunch. He bought an iced coffee and logged onto a computer.
Scanning down the list of emails in his work inbox, he saw that there was nothing pressing. He checked his personal email and found two that looked interesting. One was from
GeorgieGirl@col.edu
Hi Fitz!
Are you enjoying the cruise? I am soooo envious. You know how I love the Pride! You better buy me something good! And not just a T-shirt. I'm talking major guilt gift here!
You're in the sunny Caribbean and I'm sitting here with a stupid paper to write for a stupid course. Tell me again why I majored in history?
Caroline called me to ask why you haven't returned her phone calls. Do I have your permission to tell her it's because she's a stupid cow?
What else? Oh, I remember! Aunt Catherine called and grilled me about your new girlfriend. So am I the last to know? Aunt Cath refused to believe I didn't know anything. She thinks I'm covering up for you. So who is this woman?
Hugs,
G
Fitz smiled, imagining the conversation between his aunt and his sister. The family grapevine at work again. Might as well see what the old dragon has to say. He clicked on the next email.
LadyCate@dbi.com.
Fitzwilliam,
Well, I am impressed. This Ms. Bennet of yours has manners! Mrs. Jenkinson informs me that she received a lovely thank-you note, posted the very day that the lady was at the house. That certainly is a first.
I don't think that dreadful girl you had with you last time ever said a word of thanks to anyone. Her brother sent flowers and a note from both of them, but I know it was actually only from him.
What have you to say for yourself? I await information, young man!
Yours & etc.,
Aunt Catherine
Fitz chuckled and shook his head. He sent a noncommittal reply to his aunt, and then started his message to his sister.
Hello Sweetie,
Yes, the cruise is nice, yes it's sunny, yes I bought you a present, you greedy thing. I'm thinking about going to the market to see if I can find you a really tacky T-shirt and giving your nice present to someone else.
As for the someone else...
Here Fitz paused and looked out the window of the café. Jane and Liz walked by, laughing. They were loaded down with shopping bags, but what Fitz noticed most was that Liz was wearing one of the scarves he had bought for her. He smiled and returned to his email.
As for the someone else, she is a very special woman. As Charles would say, she could be THE ONE. But I don't know how she feels about me. We're working together at the moment, and that makes it awkward. I hope to keep seeing her when we get back to New York. I think you would like her instantly. Mom would have liked her. As for Aunt C, well you never know, do you?
BTW, Speaking of Charles, he has found another Angel. This one's nice. At least, if she dumps him, she'll do it with more grace than her predecessors did. Charles does have an amazing talent for recovery.
That's about it. Oh, one more thing-No, you may NOT call Caroline a stupid cow.
Love you,
F
Jane held up her shopping bags. "Not a bad morning's work! Time for something cold!"
They found a small café and ordered drinks and snacks. Liz smiled at Jane.
"It is so good to see you, Jane. I can't tell you how perfect your wardrobe choices were. And you were right to make me buy the red dress. I felt like a movie star in it! And I'm glad I was very dressed up that night because I got to sit at the Captain's table. But you've heard a lot about my adventures. What have you been doing? How long have you been in Nassau?"
"Dad and Charles and I flew down a few days ago."
"Charles?" Liz raised an eyebrow.
"Charles Bingley. He's Fitz Darcy's associate. You knew that. Stop smirking! Charles is very nice."
"Uh, huh. I thought so when I met him the day we sailed. I didn't get much of a chance to check him out, but he made a good first impression."
"Do you believe strongly in first impressions?"
"Well, usually I do. I liked Charles straight off, and you say he is nice. So that's a vote in favor of first impressions."
"What about Fitz?"
"No, that was not a good first impression. He seems to improve upon further acquaintance, but I'm not sure how I feel about him. But tell me more about Charles. Where is he this morning, by the way?"
Jane sighed, "He had to go back to New York."
"Why?"
"Work, I guess. He was already gone this morning when I went down to breakfast. Fitz just said that Charles went back to New York. He didn't seem to want to say anything further, so I didn't press him about it."
Liz scowled. She was trying to remember something, but she wasn't sure what it was.
"What's wrong, Liz?"
Liz shook her head, "Nothing, I guess. You know how sometimes you think of something and then it's gone so quickly you don't know what it was?" Jane nodded. "It was one of those."
Posted on Wednesday, 14 November 2001
Fitz met Mr. Gardiner at the appointed time and they took a taxi to Paradise Island. The driver dropped them off in front of a huge shell-pink building. They walked through an ornate lobby. To one side was a shopping area. Fitz didn't have to look to figure out what was to the other side. The electronic beeping and booping of gaming machines told him it was the casino.
The two men found the stairs leading to a restaurant on the lower level. Surrounded by fish tanks, it gave patrons the feeling of looking out into the sea. Fitz shook his head in amazement.
"Not my personal taste, but it certainly is impressive."
"I know what you mean. It is a bit overwhelming. And I do feel guilty ordering seafood when I eat here, if you know what I mean."
A voice behind them added, "Never eat in front of the next of kin?"
They turned to see Captain Wentworth.
"Fred!" cried Fitz, "I didn't expect to see you here!"
"It's the price for pulling a few strings."
Mr. Gardiner explained, "Captain Wentworth helped me arrange to get Jane on the cruise for the trip home, so I offered to take him to lunch. This is a 'thank-you,' not a bribe!"
Liz and Jane stood on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.
"So," began Jane. "Are you shopped out?"
"Yes, I think I've reached the limit of what I can carry, anyway."
"Then come back to the hotel with me. Dad should have left me a message about getting on the ship. And if I am sailing today, you can help me pack!"
They entered the elegant hotel, and crossed to the front desk. Jane spoke to the clerk, and was given an envelope. She didn't open it. Instead, she led Liz to the elevators.
"Anything from Charles?"
"No," replied Jane sadly. "Just this from Dad. And it doesn't look big enough to hold a ticket."
They got into the elevator, and the minute the doors closed, Jane ripped the envelope open.
"Yes! Yes!!! YES!!!" She squealed, holding out the sheet of paper for Liz to read. In large letters it said "PACK QUICKLY." In regular script, Mr. Gardiner explained that Jane was to take a taxi to the pier and identify herself to the security people on the gangway. Someone from the purser's staff would take care of her.
Once in her room, Jane started dumping clothing on the bed. Liz was in charge of the clothes to be packed for the cruise. Jane, meanwhile, was maniacally stuffing dirty clothes and things she wouldn't need into a suitcase for her father to take home for her.
The two women made short work of the task, and after they made one final search of the dresser drawers, they were ready to leave the hotel. Jane wrote her father a quick note and put the note and the suitcase she was leaving with him in his room on the other side of the suite.
"Wow! I can pack pretty fast, but that was a record time. Let's go!" laughed Jane.
Over lunch, Fitz and Mr. Gardiner brought Captain Wentworth up to date on Wickham and his arraignment.
"Do you think he'll make bail?" asked the Captain.
"Not likely." answered Fitz. "He can't raise enough cash on his credit cards, and I doubt that there's anyone back in New York who'll lend him the money. The judge set bail pretty high because George is such a flight risk."
Captain Wentworth looked at his watch. "This has been a pleasant lunch, but I have to get back to the ship. The police are coming at 3:30 to search Wickham's cabin. I'm going to have the steward pack his belongings at that time. You are both welcome to observe."
Mr. Gardiner nodded, "Perhaps another piece of the jewelry will show up."
After Captain Wentworth left, Fitz and Mr. Gardiner ordered coffee. Mr. Gardiner seemed to want to say something, but was unsure of how to start.
Fitz decided to help him out. "Is there anything else we need to take care of, sir?"
"Not about Wickham, but there is something I wanted to ask you about."
"Certainly. Fire away."
"How well do you know Mr. Bingley?"
"Charles? Oh, we go way back. We went to high school together and have been friends ever since."
"I see. Then I suppose he has worked for you for some time?"
"Yes. Charles majored in business. He got his MBA at Wharton, and I hired him when I started the business. Actually, he's a minor-share partner. We're a good team. He organizes the staff and I organize the cases we take on. May I ask why you're inquiring about him? I hope you weren't dissatisfied with his part in this case?"
"No, no, nothing like that. I quite like the young man. I dare say most people he meets like him. He's that sort of man. He and Jane appear to have taken an interest in each other, so I wanted to know more about him. Please don't say anything to either of them. Jane would be mortified to hear about her father's meddling."
"I am sure his intentions are honorable. Charles seems to like Jane very much. By the way, you're right about Charles. He's likable because he likes everyone. His trusting nature has allowed a few girlfriends to stomp on his heart. But he gets up, brushes himself off, and is willing to try again."
"Ever the optimist, then?"
"It's funny you should say that. Charles and I have a running debate about the relative merits of optimism and pessimism. I say that the advantage of always expecting the worst is that you may be pleasantly surprised from time to time, but you're never disappointed. Charles always says that an optimist isn't disappointed either-at least, not for long."
"Sounds like a good man for my Janie. And you'll be happy to know that she isn't the heart-stomping type."
"I'm glad to hear it. Women as pretty as Jane often are."
Ah, well, there's the thing. Jane is not aware of how pretty she is. She isn't one of those women who assumes a man will be interested."
So, do you think Jane and Charles are serious?"
"From watching them together, I'd say that they could be, but they haven't figured that out, yet. It's too bad Mr. Bingley had to leave when he did." Glancing at his watch, Mr. Gardiner added, "Speaking of leaving, I think we need to get going if we want to witness the search."
After helping Jane unpack, Liz suggested they visit the spa. It wasn't until she was in the deep, bubbling salt water that Liz realized just how tense she had been. She stood in front of water jets that massaged her shoulder blades.
"Mmm, I needed that. I didn't realize how much of a strain George put on my shoulders when he was holding me. Ohh, this feels good. I may just spend the rest of the cruise here."
"You can't do that. I thought you were going to look in on the search of Wickham's cabin. Do you feel up to it?"
"Certainly. The sight of George himself might be upsetting, but his stuff won't bother me. Come to think of it, I want to get my portrait from his room."
"Why does he have your portrait?"
"Oh, you know how they take your portrait on your way to the Captain's reception? When I went to look for my picture the next day, one of the photographers said that a man had already bought it. It must have been George. At first I flattered myself that he bought it because he liked me or thought me attractive. But I realize that he was probably saving it in case he needed some sort of gallant gesture to impress me."
They moved to the other end of the spa pool, and reclined on the bed of stainless steel pipes. They were silent for a while, enjoying the massaging bubbles. Then Jane picked up the conversation.
"Are you sure it was George who bought the picture?"
"Yes, the photographer said the man was tall and dark-haired. That sounds like George."
"It also sounds like Fitz, Liz. Maybe he bought the picture."
"No, he wouldn't even have gone to the gallery to look at the pictures. He didn't have a portrait or a picture with the Captain taken that night. I'm sure it was George. What would Fitz have wanted with my picture, anyway?"
Jane watched Liz close her eyes and lean back in the water. Oh, Liz, if you had only seen his face this morning when he talked about you.
Captain Wentworth, Lt. Smith, Mr. Gardiner, and Fitz stood just outside the door to George's cabin as the stewards packed George's belongings. Any piece of jewelry they found was handed to the Captain.
"Do you recognize any of this, Mr. Gardiner?"
"No, Captain, none of this came from Lydia. I must say, however, that several pieces look quite old. I wonder if they were stolen from someone else?"
"Probably," replied Fitz. "What's the procedure, Lieutenant?"
"I will inventory everything, photograph pieces that look valuable, then use the photos to try to track the owners."
"Sir," interrupted a steward. "Here is one more item. It looks like nice. Too bad the chain is missing." He held out a gold locket. Before Captain Wentworth could take it, Fitz grabbed it and stared at it.
"Fitz, are you all right?"
"I'm sorry. It looks just like one my sister had." He paused and turned the locket over. On the cover was an ornately inscribed letter G. He swallowed hard and added softly. "It is hers. Lieutenant, may I?"
"I'll consider that piece restored to its rightful owner."
"Thank you."
Not quite sure what to say, the other men looked into the room.
"Is there anything else?" asked the Captain.
"No sir, that's all of it." The steward snapped the latch of the suitcase closed. "We're finished."
"Very well. Take it all to the Luggage Master for storage. Lt. Smith, Mr. Gardiner, I'll see you to the gangway."
Fitz walked down the hall, scowling at the locket. He remembered the mark the chain had left on his sister's neck in her struggle with George. They had found the broken chain, but not the locket. They had always assumed the locket had been lost. It angered Fitz to know that George had been keeping it all this time. Dammit, George! Will you stop popping up in my life!
Refreshed from her soak in the spa, Liz was headed for George's cabin when she saw the Captain escorting Lt. Smith and Mr. Gardiner toward the gangway.
"Did I miss all the excitement?" she asked.
"Afraid so, not that there was much excitement, really," answered the Captain.
"Did my portrait turn up?"
"Your portrait? Why did Wickham have it?"
"Someone bought it, and I thought it was George. How odd. Oh, well, it doesn't matter."
Mr. Gardiner shook Liz's hand. "Thank you for your help with this case, Ms Bennet. I am sorry for what that snake did to you."
"All in a day's work, I suppose. I'll see you at the trial?" He nodded. "And thank you for arranging for Jane to come home with me. That makes up for a lot."
Posted on Wednesday, 14 November 2001
Jane hung up the telephone just as Liz entered their cabin.
"Hi, Jane. What's wrong?"
"I tried calling the hotel one more time to see if there were any messages for me, but there weren't. I guess Charles felt that his job was done and so he went home. I had hoped he would come home on the ship, too."
"Maybe he'll call you when you get back to New York."
"Maybe," she sighed. "Oh, where's your portrait?"
"It wasn't there. So now I have no idea what happened to it. Maybe the guy who said someone bought it was wrong. It probably didn't come out right, or someone lost it. Anyhow, I do have a picture. I bought the one with the Captain." She rummaged in a drawer and handed Jane a folder. "Here."
Jane opened the folder, then looked quickly at Liz, who was on her way to the bathroom. This was not the picture with the caption. It was far more interesting.
"Mmm, great picture."
From the shower, Liz called, "Thanks!"
Jane took another look at the picture and slipped it back into the drawer. Liz has to be crazy not to notice how Fitz looks at her in that picture!
The headwaiter showed Liz, Jane, and Fitz to a table set for three. A waiter brought menus and the three were silent for a while.
Fitz made his choices quickly, and used the time to study the two women. Liz was subdued, unlike her bright yellow dress. He noticed with satisfaction that the print scarf he had given her was a perfect match. His hand found its way to his pocket. The box was there. Maybe tonight, he thought.
He turned his attention to Jane. She wore a pale blue silk dress. Although it was simple, Fitz could tell from the cut that it was expensive. He thought back to what her father had said about her tendency to underestimate herself. His first impression of her had been one of coolness. Perhaps what he saw as reserve was simply shyness.
"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter.
"John! This is your table, too?" asked Liz.
"Yes, Miss. How are you this evening."
"I'm well, thank you. Tell me, what's lurking in the seafood crepes?"
"Crabmeat, scallops, and shrimp."
"No clams, mussels, or any of those guys?"
"Not a one."
"Then that's my choice."
"Mine, too" added Jane.
"And you, sir?" asked John.
"I'll have the pasta. And send over the wine steward, please."
Fitz ordered a chardonnay, and when it was delivered, he indicated to the wine steward that Liz should taste the wine.
"It's your turn."
Liz lifted the glass, swirled the wine, inhaled the aroma, and then tasted a sip.
"Lovely," she smiled at the wine steward and nodded. After the wine steward had poured the wine and departed, she added, "How did I do?"
"Fine," said Jane, "But what's this about it being your turn?"
Fitz answered, "I tasted the wine the first night, and Liz commented on the assumption that the man would taste the wine. So I wanted to make up for that."
Their appetizers arrived, and there was a lull in the conversation.
Liz finished her melon and took a sip of her wine. She looked at Fitz, who was picking at his paté. He seemed uncomfortable. She tried to think of a reason, but all she could come up with was that he was embarrassed about the day before. Was he sorry that he had kissed her?
Anne Eliot wandered through the dining room. It wasn't one of the Captain's nights to be in the dining room. In fact, he was on the Bridge with the harbor pilot. But Anne liked to mingle with the passengers, and the dining room was a good place to do it. She couldn't sit and join people mid-meal, so the visits were all short.
Glancing across the room, Anne saw Fitz and Liz. She frowned when she saw that another woman was sitting with them. This was not what she had expected. Anne felt the ship slowing. They were getting ready to drop off the pilot. Good she thought, Fred can help with this.
Anne walked up to the headwaiter's podium and asked about the newcomer. She thanked the headwaiter and walked down the steps toward the table for three.
John set the plates on the table. The seafood crepes in their creamy béchamel sauce were steaming hot. Whole green beans and strips of squash were held in a bundle by a strip of carrot.
Liz sighed, "This is too pretty to eat."
Jane looked up and smiled, "Eat your veggies dear, it'll make your hair curly."
"What? Are you channeling my mother or something?"
"Well, if I am, Liz dear, you are channeling my sulky cousin Lydia!"
At the mention of Lydia, they all thought of Wickham and the reason for the trip. The resulting silence was broken by the arrival of Anne Eliot, who wanted to check out the new passenger.
"Good evening. Welcome to the Pride, Ms Gardiner. I'm Anne Eliot, the ship's hostess. I hope you enjoy the trip home."
"Thank you Ms Eliot. Please call me Jane."
"Jane it is, then. And call me Anne. What do you all have planned for after dinner?"
The three looked at each other questioningly. Finally, Jane spoke up.
"How about going to the Main Lounge? We could listen to the band and then stay for tonight's show." The others nodded.
"Perhaps I'll see you there." And with a smile, Anne left the room and headed straight for the Bridge.
"I know it isn't chocolate, but I still think it's one of the best desserts that we do." John set down three piping hot orange soufflés. He poked a hole in the top of each one and generously spooned in the Grand Marnier sauce. "Be careful, they're hot!"
Fitz was the first to taste his dessert. The two women watched him to see his reaction. He smiled, then quickly grimaced.
"Nasty," he announced. Reaching for Liz's plate he added, "Let me protect you from this stuff."
She laughed and swatted Fitz's hand away. "Nice try, but I'll risk it." His hand moved forward again, and Liz picked up her fork menacingly. "Don't even think about it."
Jane leaned back and watched her two companions banter. This is better. she thought.
Anne reached the Bridge. She looked around and frowned.
"Excuse me, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. Do you know where the Captain is?"
"Yes, ma'am. He is seeing the harbor pilot away. Then I believe he said he would be in his quarters."
"Thank you. Smooth sailing!" She gave him a little salute and was gone.
One deck below the bridge, Captain Wentworth entered his suite. He tossed his jacket on a chair and pulled a bottle of water from the cube fridge behind his desk. He was about to log on and check his email when he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in."
"Fred, I need your help."
The band was playing dance music and a few couples were on the dance floor as Jane, Liz, and Fitz found their way to a table in the lounge. A waiter approached and asked if they wanted a drink. Fitz ordered a brandy, but Jane and Liz declined, saying they were too stuffed from dinner.
"Wasn't that soufflé heavenly?" asked Liz. "I wonder how hard it is to make?"
"Soufflés aren't that hard," answered Fitz, to the astonishment of the two women. Seeing their faces, he asked, "What? You don't think I could make one?"
"Sorry," replied Liz. "I didn't mean to be a chauvinist. Or maybe that would be a reverse chauvinist?"
"It's OK, I really have never made a soufflé. But my sister loves them, and our housekeeper-slash-cook says they're easy to do."
"Maybe, but you can't make just one little one like I had tonight. And if you make a big one or a bunch of little ones, then what do you do with the extras? I don't think they're any good warmed over."
Fitz smiled and looked into Liz's eyes, "Invite a guest to dinner."
Liz blushed and looked down at the table. Fitz enjoyed seeing the color in her cheeks. Jane tried to think of a reason to leave the two of them alone at the table.
"There," Anne pointed. "The blonde. Go ask her to dance."
"It will seem rude. I know Liz better. Why would I go up and ask Ms Gardiner to dance instead of Liz?"
"I don't know. Think of something! Has Jane been on the Pride before? You could say welcome back and all that sort of thing."
"Well," he sighed, trying to come up with some reason not to do what he thought was foolish.
"Please, Fred? Do it as a favor for me?" Finally, Anne resorted to a schoolyard whine, "I'll be your very best friend?"
He smiled down at her. Someday, I'll hold you to that. "Very well. You win."
Captain Wentworth strode across the lounge. He stopped at the table to the side of the dance floor.
"Good evening, Liz, Fitz. Ms Gardiner, welcome aboard. I'm delighted that you can join us. You've been aboard the Pride before, I believe?"
"Yes, I have, Captain. I love this ship."
He smiled, "You know the way to a sailor's heart. Compliment his ship. Any fan of my ship is an instant friend." He held out his hand, "Would you care to dance?"
"Thank you." Jane smiled and allowed the Captain to lead her to the floor.
Across the room, Anne was surprised by the sudden twinge of jealousy she felt on seeing the lovely blond in the arms of her handsome Captain. She tried to suppress a frown. He's not YOUR Captain, silly. Besides, you begged him to do this. Get a grip. But she couldn't help thinking how unfair it was that she was supposed to either not dance or dance with passengers. The officers were supposed to dance with the many single women on board. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted to dance with all the officers. Just one, she thought, just one.
Fitz was about to ask Liz to dance when he saw her scowl.
"What's wrong?"
"Look, Anne is over there by herself."
"So she is."
"And the Captain is dancing."
"So he is. What's the problem?"
"He should be dancing with Anne. You didn't see the way she looked for a moment. Poor thing. She's all alone there. Go ask her to dance."
"Then I'll be leaving you all alone here."
"I don't mind."
"Maybe she doesn't mind."
"Fitz!" Liz hissed sharply. He shrugged and crossed to room to Anne.
Liz watched the couples on the dance floor. Fitz looked impassive. Jane smiled serenely. But Anne and the Captain looked quite agitated. Good! A little jealousy never hurt a budding romance!
Over Jane's shoulder, Captain Wentworth looked at the couple dancing nearby. What was Anne up to now? First she had begged him to dance with Jane so that Fitz and Liz could be alone. Now Anne was dancing with Fitz, and Liz was alone. He caught Anne's eye and raised one eyebrow. She gave a tiny shrug. He frowned. Then another couple moved between them and the silent conversation ended.
As they turned, Jane could see Liz, sitting alone. She looked around the room and saw Fitz dancing with the Ship's Hostess. How did this happen?
Brian, the Cruise Director approached Liz and asked her to dance. Although she had told Fitz that she wouldn't mind sitting alone, Liz did feel awkward by herself, so she accepted.
The addition of this couple to the dance floor brought another round of meaningful glances between the Captain and his hostess, as they tried to figure out what to do next.
The band leader had been watching the couples. Something was going on, but what? Then he had an inspiration. Without stopping the music, he took the microphone. He continued to watch the dancers, waiting for the right moment.
"Ladies and gentleman! Everyone switch partners!"