Beginning, Section II
Posted on Tuesday, 24 July 2001
"Mr. Gardiner, I'd like you to meet Liz Bennet. Liz, have you read Mr. Gardiner's case file?"
Liz shook Mr. Gardiner's hand, then turned to her employer. "Yes, I have, Mr. Lucas. I'm not sure why you need me, though. Wouldn't it be better to have someone from the islands?"
"Oh, I will," replied Mr. Gardiner. "But since the party in question is a US citizen, I want to make sure his rights are protected. No grounds for appeal, you understand."
"I still think this is a job for a PI, not a lawyer."
"Yes, I have a very good private investigator on retainer, but I need you as well. Bill Lucas assures me that you will handle this with grace and tact. And the setting will certainly be pleasant. Try to think of it as a working vacation."
Liz was tempted to point out that "working vacation" was an oxymoron. Instead she said, "So when do I get to meet your PI?"
"Unfortunately, he's busy wrapping up some other cases, so you won't meet him until you sail next week."
"Right," said Mr. Lucas. "So, Liz, you'll need to spend your time this week organizing someone to handle your cases while you're away."
"Yes, I'll also have to figure out what to pack."
"Ah, yes, Ms. Bennet," nodded Mr. Gardiner. "This ship is a bit formal. I've set up a line of credit for you at Sak's. My daughter Jane would be happy to go shopping with you. She's been on the Pride before and knows what you'll need. Here's her number. Call her and set up a time to meet."
"I hate to take up her time."
"Don't worry about it. The expression 'born to shop' was invented for my elder daughter! Seriously, Jane is a personal stylist. She'll get you set up in no time."
"I don't know, Jane. This is awfully expensive."
"Liz, will you just look in the mirror? It's perfect. It would be a crime NOT to take this one. Red is a great color on you."
"But we've already spent so much. I mean, I really didn't need all new underwear and nighties. I feel like I'm buying a trousseau!"
"Well, the Pride isn't the 'Love Boat,' but you never know," laughed Jane as she went over her checklist. "I think we're done. Let's celebrate!"
Over coffee, but no cake-Liz was conscious of fitting into her new wardrobe-Jane told Liz a bit more about what to expect on her cruise, how to avoid the worst calorie traps and how to deal with "motion on the ocean."
"Will it really be rough?"
"Probably not, and the Pride rides very well. She was built in the days of ocean liners, so she's quite stable. Anyhow, if the sea does get rough, get yourself to the middle of the ship where there is less motion. Take deep breaths and try to relax. If you're in your cabin, do not, I repeat NOT turn your TV to the channel that shows the view from the bridge. You will not want to watch the horizon dancing up and down."
"Why the middle of the ship?"
"It's something about physics. My sister Charlotte could explain it-she aced physics. All I remember is something about a seesaw. I just know that the best cabins, in terms of stable ride at least, are near the middle."
"Thanks for the tips. I hope I'll turn out to be a good sailor. Jane," Liz hesitated a bit, "What can you tell me about your cousin?"
"Well, she's 17 and has made some unfortunate choices in friends. She refuses to listen to Charlotte's advice about making a prudent match, says that's too boring. And she doesn't like me, either."
"Not like you, Jane? Impossible!"
"Mostly it's because I'm older and never did anything 'cool,' like get expelled from boarding school. And her father uses me as a good example too often, so she resents me."
"What a shame."
"Yes, she's determined to be different. So I guess you can see how she'd be taken in by a handsome charmer who offers a good time."
"Hmm. All I can say is that if I had a sister, I'd want her to be just like you. I've really enjoyed chatting with you, but I have to get back to the office. Will you come to the ship with your father to see us off?"
"I hope to."
"Good. See you then, and thanks a million for the help. If shopping were an Olympic sport, you'd get the gold medal for sure!"
Posted on Tuesday, 24 July 2001
Liz looked around her cabin. She tried the bed, which seemed comfortable. From her window, she could see the pier. Luggage was being tossed onto a conveyor belt that ran into the side of the ship. She winced as she considered the possibility of her luggage missing the conveyor belt and ending up in the Hudson River. She smiled as she thought of Jane. In addition to all that clothing, Jane had ordered new luggage and then helped Liz to pack everything into it.
Since her luggage wouldn't be delivered for a few hours (fingers crossed and don't think about the river!), Liz decided to explore the ship for a while. Edward Gardiner must have pulled some strings to get their group on board early. They would be meeting at 1:00, but until then she wanted to check out the open decks.
Liz walked along the Promenade Deck to the front of the ship. The bow of the Austen Pride pointed toward 48th Street. It seemed strange to be standing on the deck of a cruise ship and watching traffic flow along 12th Avenue.
Turning to walk to the stern, Liz spotted a tall, dark-haired man leaning on the rail and looking up the river toward the George Washington Bridge. Was that him? Liz paused, trying to think of something to say when a gust of wind blew her straw hat into the air.
"Oh!" yelped Liz, and the man turned toward her. With lightning fast reflexes, he extended his arm and caught the hat.
"Oh," said Liz, softly this time. She had seen the catch out of the corner of her eye. Her main focus was on his face. His eyes were absolutely mesmerizing.
He held out the hat. "You won't be able to wear this on deck while we're at sea, you know. Don't believe all the pictures you see in the brochure. It gets windy out here once we're moving."
Years of debate in high school and college, moot court in law school, and courtroom experience as a lawyer had taught Liz to think and speak on her feet. For the first time in many years, she was speechless. Say something, she scolded herself.
"Thank you. I, uh, a friend talked me into this. She said it was worthy of Bette Davis in 'Now Voyager.'" Good one, Lizzy, like this guy would know a classic chick flick!
"Ah, and are your wings borrowed, too, Miss...?"
Liz's eyes widened in surprise at the reference to one of her favorite movies. "Beauchamps," she murmured, then louder, "Bennet, Liz Bennet. I can't believe you caught the allusion to such an old 'three-hankie' movie!"
"It was one of my mother's favorites." Then, as if a door closed, the relaxed countenance was replaced by an unreadable mask. "Please excuse me, I have to meet someone."
Liz stared as he walked away. Great walk, she thought. Long stride, broad shoulders, nice...She stopped herself from continuing. However interesting he might look, he was not her quarry. Anyhow, he hadn't even bothered to introduce himself.
Posted on Friday, 27 July 2001
Fitz Darcy strode along the deck toward the stern. He hadn't thought about that movie for years. What was the line his mother had loved? Something about the moon and stars. But he never could remember which they had and which they reached for. Stay in the present. Don't let the past get to you.
He shook his head. What were Gardiner and Lucas thinking? She wasn't at all the right type. If she was supposed to be the bait, the trap would never work.
Liz sat in her cabin and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the desk. Could she really do this? If what happened on deck could be considered a trial run, she didn't think so. Even with no other women around as competition, she hadn't been able to hold the interest of the tall stranger. She couldn't see herself attracting the attention of a notorious womanizer once the ship was full of young, pretty women. Oh well. Time to go. Chin up, shoulders back. Look like you're in control and you're halfway there.
As she reached the door to the room that had been reserved for the meeting, Liz heard the tall stranger's rich baritone proclaim, "... completely inappropriate choice. She is tolerable, I suppose, but not flashy enough to tempt George. Really, Gardiner..." he broke off as the door opened.
Liz walked into the room and greeted Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Lucas. Standing with them were the tall stranger and a young man with curly blond hair and a pleasant face. From the mildly embarrassed expressions on the four faces, Liz suspected that she was the "inappropriate choice" under discussion.
"Liz," said Mr. Lucas warmly, "I'd like you to meet Fitz Darcy and his associate, Charles Bingley. Gentlemen, Ms Elizabeth Bennet."
"So, Mr. Darcy, you're Mr. Gardiner's PI?"
"Private investigator, yes."
Why does he have to act so superior? "So what's the plan?" she asked in a voice that sounded bolder than she felt.
Mr. Lucas began to explain, "The plan is to watch George Wickham and be ready to maneuver him into position for the authorities to arrest him. Liz, you will have to catch Mr. Wickham's eye and become friendly with him. He has a reputation for a taste for pretty ladies, so I'm sure he'll notice you."
Charles Bingley smiled and nodded in agreement. But Fitz Darcy-did she notice a roll of those deep brown eyes? Arrogant b*****d!
"The attracting part I know how to do," Liz said with a slightly raised eyebrow in Fitz's direction. "But what's the maneuvering part?"
Mr. Gardiner picked up the thread of the explanation. "Charles and I will be in contact with Fitz, so we'll know when Wickham is in a vulnerable position. I think the private island is the perfect stop to do this, but we're double-checking on the legality of an arrest on private property."
"And how do I stay informed? If I'm supposed to spend time with Wickham, how do I contact Mr. Darcy without seeming suspicious?"
"That won't be a problem, Ms Bennet," replied Fitz. "We can take care of the attracting part and the contact part in the same way. I will appear to pursue you. I've known George Wickham for years, and I know that anything I go after, he'll want. So all you have to do is talk to me when our paths cross. For starters, we'll try an approach of 'I'm interested, you're not.' He'll probably find that intriguing. If that doesn't work, you'll begin to show an interest in me, and that should make up his mind."
"If you're so sure that your involvement will clinch things, it strikes me that any woman would be an appropriate choice for the role." Ha! Gotcha Fitz Darcy, PI!
Damn! She HAD overheard. If she's going to be prickly like this, it will just make everything more difficult. "I think you are willfully misunderstanding me, Ms Bennet. George and I have rather a long history. He has always taken delight in sabotaging my relationships. So you see, if I show an interest in you, he will also, even if you're not his type."
"And his type would be?"
"Young, naive, easily led astray. Money is always a plus. Sorry Mr. Gardiner, no offense to your niece intended, but that is his pattern."
"No offense taken, young man. Lydia is silly, over-indulged, and has never given a thought to the consequences of her actions."
"Oh, Father, that's a bit unkind." Jane Gardiner entered the room. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled and her suit looked expensive. A classic, cool blonde thought Fitz. An angel! thought Bingley.
After introductions were made, they sat down to lunch and Fitz continued his explanation. "George is basically a predator. He has two standard courses of action with women. He promises the lively silly ones fun and the dreamy naive ones romance. Now, Ms Bennet, you're a lawyer. You have experience in dealing with people. You're hardly likely to fit into either of his categories."
Liz replied, "Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy. You don't have to be 15 to dream of finding true love." She was too busy with her shrimp salad to notice that he winced, so she went on. "Perhaps I'll try the 'incurable romantic' approach. I'll let him think I believe what I see in the brochures."
"Capital! Capital! Sounds like we have a plan!" cried Mr. Lucas. "Fitz, why don't you take Liz on a tour of the ship? Wickham won't be boarding until about an hour before sailing, so you'll have some time to work out strategies. Bon voyage, you two!"
Liz gave Jane a hug and said, "I wish you were coming with me."
"Me too, but Dad says no. Can't have too many people associated with George showing up in the same place. I'll fly down to the island with Dad and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley seems very nice, don't you think?"
"At least he's friendly. I am not looking forward to having to act all flirty with Mr. Serious over there."
"Give him a chance, Liz. Dad says he's the best at what he does, and I get the impression that he has some kind of personal stake in this."
"Yeah, revenge for the girlfriends Wickham stole from him"
"I think it's more than that. Oh, we have to leave. Be careful with Wickham, Liz. And try to have fun. Maybe Mr. Serious will lighten up when you get out to sea!"
Posted on Friday, 27 July 2001
"And this is the Neptune Room. I think it's the most beautiful public room on the ship. It's a homage to the elegant rooms of the great ocean liners."
"It's lovely." Statues of King Neptune and wall sconces shaped like giant clamshells decorated the room. Sea-green carpet and upholstery, sand-colored tables and walls, and a pale sky-blue ceiling made Liz feel as if she was floating in the sea.
"They serve afternoon tea in here," Fitz told her. "Scones, cucumber sandwiches, the whole thing."
"Marvelous! I love 'proper' tea."
"We should go back to our cabins and unpack. Shall I meet you here at 4:00 for tea?"
Fitz walked her back toward the middle of the ship and a bank of elevators. Only one was available for passengers to use, as the rest were being used to move luggage. Fitz noticed Liz's wide-eyed expression when she saw a pile of luggage in one of the elevators.
"It takes hours to get everything to its proper location. Nobody packs light for a cruise. Ah, here's an elevator we can use." They stepped into the car and Fitz hit the buttons for Decks 1 and 2.
The elevator doors opened on Deck 1. "My cabin is just there. Yours is on Deck 2, roughly below mine. We're both near the D stairs and elevator, so it should be easy to leave notes or visit in person as the case develops. Mr. Gardiner thought that neighboring cabins on the same deck might look too much like a coincidence. But nobody notices if cabins are vertical neighbors."
When she arrived at her cabin, Liz found that her suitcases had been placed on the beds. She unpacked everything, eager to check that her dresses weren't too wrinkled. She thought of Jane again when she noticed how well the clothing had been packed. If she hadn't had Jane's help, she might have spent the entire cruise looking like an accordion!
After she finished unpacking, Liz went to the Promenade deck for a stroll. Earlier, the deck had been empty. Now it was filling with passengers checking out the ship and waving to friends on the pier. Once again, Liz realized that Mr. Gardiner must have serious "pull" to arrange for them to board early and have a private lunch in a meeting room.
As she rounded the corner, she remembered to clamp her hand on her hat. She thought about Fitz Darcy. On deck, he had been friendly, even slightly flirty, until she had introduced herself. What had happened then? Perhaps he knew her name in advance and found her to be a disappointment in some way? Was he annoyed that she was acting friendly toward a stranger when she had a job to do? Don't let him get to you, she scolded herself.
Fitz closed the door to the closet and slipped the empty suitcase under the bed. The cabin looked comfortable enough. Twin beds, he noticed. Well, he didn't think they'd have to pretend to be sleeping together just to get Wickham's attention. He stared blankly out the window and found himself wondering if Liz's cabin was configured the same way.
Shake out of it! This is a job! No time for entanglements! Remember why you're here. His gaze fell on the photograph by his bed. "This is for you, Sweetie," he murmured, and headed up for tea.
Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001
Liz was there ahead of him, wearing that straw hat. He stopped to look at her as she smiled at a waiter. She really does look like a picture from a brochure. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them, she was looking at him.
"Mr. Darcy."
"Ms Bennet. Great hat."
"Not seaworthy, perhaps, but I'm becoming quite fond of it."
"Definitely not seaworthy, but perfect for afternoon tea." And perfect on you.
"I probably should be wearing white gloves."
He leaned back in his seat and smiled at her, "No, the waiters do that."
Omigod! Look at those dimples! Rendered speechless once again, Liz was saved by one of the white-gloved waiters carrying a pot of tea.
"Tea, miss? Sir?"
"Yes, thank you." Liz turned to Fitz, "Mr. Darcy, I ordered Darjeeling, is that OK?"
"Yes, it's fine. And I think we should be on a first-name basis. If, at some point, George should hear us talking, 'Mr. Darcy' and 'Ms Bennet' would sound too businesslike and we don't want him to become suspicious. So you should call me Fitz. And you're Liz, right?"
"Yes, short for Elizabeth, of course."
"Elegant name. My great-great, oh, I forget how many greats, grandmother was called Elizabeth."
Just then, another waiter showed up with a tray of finger sandwiches-salmon, ham, egg salad, and cucumber. The crusts had been cut off, and the sandwiches were arranged neatly in rows.
"Cucumber sandwiches!" exclaimed Liz. "I love these!"
Fitz smiled again. "Cucumber sandwiches always remind me of 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' I love it when Algernon's manservant says that there were no cucumbers to be had at the market, not even..."
"...for ready money!" chimed in Liz. "I always imagined that tea with Lady Bracknell would be an ordeal."
"Oh, I don't know-I have an aunt who could give Lady Bracknell a run for her money."
Fitz gazed out the window and Liz studied his profile. Hmm, interesting. He quotes Oscar Wilde and knows classic chick flicks. Wait a minute-no, no, he can't be. Anyhow, what does it matter, this is a job and you won't see him after it's over.
Fitz's voice snapped her back to attention. "Liz? Do you want a scone or some cake?"
"Oh, yes, a scone, thanks." When the waiter had left their table, she asked. "So, do you have any ideas about how I make initial contact with Wickham?"
"Easy. You and George have the same lifeboat station. You can catch his eye during lifeboat drill."
"You guys really did think of everything, didn't you?"
"We tried to, anyway."
"How did you get him on this ship?"
"Mr. Gardiner arranged to make it look as if George won the cruise. George's previous employer cooperated on the scheme."
"And the cruise line? Does Austen Cruise Line know what's going on?"
"I believe Mr. Gardiner has a friend at Austen, and his friend helped set things up. The Chief Security Officer knows, too, as does the Captain."
Their conversation was interrupted by a long blast of the ship's horn, followed by several shorter blasts.
Liz jumped at the sound.
Fitz laughed. "It gets your attention, doesn't it? Right, time for you to head to your lifeboat drill. I will not be there. I'd rather George not see me just yet. Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001
"What's your lifeboat station?"
"Eight"
"Louder!"
"EIGHT!"
"OK!" Carrie, who introduced herself as Assistant Cruise Director, grinned at the passengers as they tried to tie their life vests properly. "In the unlikely event of an emergency, you will line up here. Children and shorter adults in the front, please. The lifeboat will be lowered and the crewmembers assigned to this station will help you into it. Not that we expect this to happen, you understand. But it's important that you know what to do, just in case."
Carrie walked along the lines of passengers, showing them the correct way to tie the tapes on the life vests. Liz had managed to get into line beside George Wickham. She had taken a brief look at him as Carrie had given her speech. He seemed to be checking out the young woman, looking her over, but not listening to what she was saying.
Liz tapped George on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but you're losing your whistle."
"What?"
"Your whistle is dangling. It should be in this little pocket, see?" And she tucked the emergency whistle into place.
"Thanks. Are you some sort of life vest expert?"
"No," she laughed, "just an observant passenger. I'm Liz Bennet."
"George Wickham. Have you cruised before?"
"Just once when I was in college, but on a very different ship. You know college kids, fun, fun, fun. The Pride has a reputation for being more formal. I'm really looking forward to this."
Their conversation was interrupted by the Captain's voice on the loudspeaker. He welcomed the passengers on behalf of Austen Cruise Line, explained some safety regulations, and wished everyone a Bon Voyage.
When the drill ended, George followed Carrie. Liz sighed. Young and perky, he's running true to form.
Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001
The dockworkers pulled the lines free, and the Pride backed into the Hudson River. Liz leaned on the rail and watched New York slip by. She held her camera ready as she waited to catch the sunlight glinting off the spire of the Chrysler Building. Her concentration was broken by Fitz's rich baritone.
"So?"
"Not a nibble. He's chasing a girl from the Cruise Director's staff."
"Have another go. Here he comes." Fitz disappeared into the crowd. Liz moved to a spot where George was sure to see her.
"Excuse me, miss. Can you help me find lifeboat station 8?"
Liz smiled into the friendly face of George Wickham and said, "You don't think that we need to abandon ship already?"
"You never know. I figure if I stick with you, I may get to sit next to you in the lifeboat. Have you looked at the daily program? What time is dinner?"
"It depends on your dining room. I'm in the Longborne Dining Room, and dinner starts at 6:30."
"Oh, I'm in the Meryton Dining Room, first seating."
"I think that's at 6:00."
"That's too bad." George looked disappointed. "I had hoped that we might have dinner together."
"Sorry."
"Well, then, how about an after dinner drink?"
"OK. I did a little exploring earlier and saw a nice bar on Upper Deck. It's somebody's corner or some name like that. It's not far from the Library, near the E elevators. Met me there, say, nine-ish?"
"You bet, Liz. See ya!"
Liz watched him walk away, checking his reflection in the windows. Arrogant swagger, she thought, as if he fancied himself a pirate. Not at all like Darcy's casually confident stride.
Liz took a few more pictures of the Statue of Liberty and then watched as the ship sailed under the Verazzano Narrows Bridge. It looked as if the communications mast would hit the bridge. Actually, it cleared by a large margin, but the illusion of a near collision was impressive. Liz checked her watch. They had been under way for almost an hour. Time to freshen up for dinner.
Posted on Tuesday, 31 July 2001
Liz entered the dining room and was greeted by the Maitre D'. She gave him the card that showed her table number. While he summoned a waiter to escort her to her table, she scanned the room. The entrance was a few steps above the dining room, which gave her a good view. Large round tables filled the center of the room, with smaller ones at the edges. The tables were set with white linen and cream-colored china. The silver and crystal gleamed in the light from the setting sun pouring in through large windows. The chairs were covered in a rose pink fabric and the flowers on the tables matched the pink perfectly.
She still hadn't spotted Fitz when the waiter arrived. "Good evening, Miss, this way please. Mind the steps."
The waiter led Liz to a table for two near a window and pulled out her chair. "Here you are, miss. Table 62."
Fitz looked up from his menu. He stood as Liz smiled at the waiter and sat down. The waiter handed Liz a menu and left.
"Fitz."
"Liz."
"Sorry, I've kept you waiting."
"A lady's prerogative," he smiled.
"I must confess that I got a little lost. I couldn't find the entrance. It's sort of in between decks, almost like a split-level house."
"You must have taken the stairs. The elevator stops right outside."
"Yes, so I discovered after it was too late!" She glanced at the menu. "Hmm, the Captain's Welcome Dinner. What a lot of choices! Is the dinner menu always like this?"
"This is pretty typical. There are usually several hot appetizers, cold appetizers, a few soups, and then the entrees. You can generally expect a pasta, a vegetarian, a beef, a poultry, a seafood, and one other, such as lamb or veal."
"I love shrimp cocktail. What's 'Marie Rose' sauce, I wonder?"
"It's sort of like Russian dressing. Later in the week it will show up with lobster as Cardinal sauce."
"How do you know that?"
"I've been on the Pride several times, and it has become a family joke that the same dressing shows up with a variety of aliases."
"OK, since you know the food so well, what do you recommend?"
"The beef is always excellent, and they will cook it to the degree of doneness you request. They have a fine variety of seafood as a rule, too. I don't think I've ever had a disappointing meal on this ship, although one night my mother didn't like the coq au vin for some reason. It tasted funny. She and my sister Gina could not figure out what was wrong with the seasoning, and they giggled over it all through dinner." His voiced trailed off, as he became lost in his thoughts.
Liz watched as Fitz gazed out the window. She was about to say something when the waiters approached their table.
"Good evening, I'm John and this is Camille. We'll be serving you this week. Can we answer any questions about the menu?"
"Liz? Are you ready to order?"
"Yes, I'll have the shrimp cocktail, the consommé, and the grilled snapper."
"Would you like a sorbet before your entrée?"
"Oh, yes please."
"And you, sir?"
"I'll have the same. And please send the wine steward over."
"Very good, sir."
Fitz looked over the wine selections. He quickly found something he'd like, and was about to order it when he realized he knew nothing about her taste in wine. "Is white wine all right, Liz? They have a chardonnay that I can recommend."
"Chardonnay is good for me, as long as it isn't too sweet."
"Then you'll like this. I think some of the best California chardonnays come from the Carneros region of Napa Valley. This one is especially nice, and not too sweet."
"Good, if it's too sweet it overpowers the Milk Tray."
"What?"
"Don't say 'what,' Fitz, say 'pardon'." She started to giggle. He stared at her.
"Sorry, I don't know what brought that on. Just having a Bridget moment, I guess."
"A what?"
At that moment, Camille arrived with rolls and butter. Liz couldn't resist asking, "Camille, do you know who drinks Chardonnay with Cadbury's Milk Tray?"
Camille grinned, "Of course! Bridget Jones!"
John arrived with their appetizers. Fitz decided that two could play this game. "John, do you know who Bridget Jones is?"
"No sir, I'm sorry. Is she a passenger or a crew member?"
Liz burst out laughing, and Camille shook her head as she and John left to serve another table.
"I give up, Liz. Who is Bridget Jones?"
"Where have you been, Fitz? Bridget Jones's Diary? Everyone has been reading it."
"Oh, right, that book. My sister loved it. She literally laughed out loud reading it. For a while she went around talking without using personal pronouns, which was very disturbing. And she learned the most dreadful expletive from it."
Liz laughed again, "Wonderful expression. I save it for times of great duress and people of extraordinary stupidity."
Fitz shook his head as the wine steward approached with the bottle of chardonnay. "I'm sorry sir, is this not what you ordered?"
"No, no, this is correct. It's my dinner companion who's a bit off."
Liz watched the wine steward open the bottle and pour a small amount for Fitz to taste. He pronounced it just right, and the wine steward filled Liz's glass, then returned to fill Fitz's.
Fitz noticed Liz's smirk. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I enjoyed watching the whole tasting thing. It reminded me of a movie I saw a long time ago. A couple go out on a date and when he is given the wine to taste, she goes into a feminist rant about why the man always gets to choose the wine and taste it."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as some sort of chauvinist statement."
"No, it's fine. Just one of those stray memories."
Appetizer plates disappeared and were replaced by the soup. While they waited for the steaming consommé to cool, Fitz asked, "So, how's George?"
"Fine, I guess. He told me that he won this cruise for being the most productive salesman for a big businesss-solutions software company. Made himself sound v. important, as Bridget would say."
"Yes, well, he would." And the mask fell into place again.
They ate their soup in silence. The consommé had slivers of leek and flecks of chive floating in it. Liz looked out the window and watched the sea go by. Fitz Darcy was a puzzle. Relaxed and joking one minute, and then silent the next.
John took away the empty soup bowls and Camille placed the sorbets on the table.
Liz tasted the sorbet, "Mmmm, mango. Delicious!"
Fitz watched Liz close her eyes and savor the tangy sorbet. She was so different from other women of his acquaintance. Not afraid to laugh and admit to having a good time. He had forgotten there were women like this. Confident, but not overbearing. She'd be good for Gina.
The vibration of the ship began to increase. Liz opened her eyes suddenly.
Fitz smiled, "That's the engines increasing our speed. We just put the harbor pilot off and now we're really underway. Look, see that small boat? That's the pilot boat. Until now, the captain was not steering. As we go out of the harbor, the harbor pilot is in control."
"All this way?"
"Yes, the currents around here are surprisingly tricky, so the pilot takes us all the way out to Ambrose Light before getting off."
"Oh."
While they waited for their main courses to arrive, Liz informed Fitz that she had told George she was the receptionist for Gardiner and Associates. "I gather that he isn't attracted to serious women, so I thought he might be scared off if I said I was a lawyer."
"Good thinking. If you have to make up something, it's always best to stay as close as possible to the truth. Less likely to slip up that way."
John set their fish entrees on the table, and Camille served the vegetables. Liz tasted her fish and took a sip of the wine. "Lovely."
As they ate, they chatted about the upcoming ports. Liz had never been to Bermuda, and was looking forward to it. Fitz described the pastel houses and the narrow roads with traffic going the "wrong way." They made some tentative plans to spend the day sightseeing, as Fitz did not expect George to get off the ship in Bermuda. "Strict drug laws, no gambling, nowhere to fence anything stolen. Way too civilized for George."
John returned with the menus so that they could choose dessert. Liz sighed, "Am I really going to do this?"
John grinned, "No calories in any of them, miss. I guarantee it!"
Liz was trying to resist, but then she saw something she had to try. "Chocolate salami? Is that for real?"
"Yes, miss. It's very good."
"OK, I'll walk TWO miles on deck tomorrow morning to make up for this."
Coffee and dessert were served, and Liz was delighted with her choice. The chocolate salami was like a flourless chocolate cake that had been prepared in a cylinder shape and then sliced.
Liz looked at Fitz's choice of raspberry bread pudding and shook her head. "You don't know what you're missing."
"That good?"
"Mmmm, and then some! This has been a marvelous dinner."
"Yes, the food is good. And they serve you constantly."
"So I've heard. Jane Gardiner gave me some pointers on avoiding excess calories."
"My mother always said to wear your tightest clothes the first day and save the loosest for the last day."
Liz noticed a faraway look in his eyes and decided to take a chance. "You miss her a lot, don't you?"
"Yes, she died five years ago, and I still can't believe she's gone." He seemed to be on the verge of saying more, but then the mask came back. "I think it's time for you to meet George. Which lounge are you meeting in?"
"I forget the name. It's the small one midship on Upper Deck. Somebody's corner, I believe.
"Right, I'll catch up with you later."
Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001
The Colonel's Corner was a small lounge with dark wood paneling. It looked like the library of a nineteenth-century gentleman's mansion.
"Good evening. I'm Richard. What can I get you?"
Liz smiled at the bartender. He had light brown hair, green eyes, and a great smile. The ship rolled a bit just as Liz began to sit down, causing her to plop onto the barstool. Grateful that the stool was firmly attached to the floor, she laughed, "Well, wasn't that graceful?"
"Don't worry, you'll get used to the motion."
"I certainly hope so. In the meantime, I'll just have some ginger ale. Is that an old wives' tale about ginger ale being good for seasickness?"
Richard looked concerned. "Do you feel ill?"
"No, no, just being cautious."
"Good." He glanced down appreciatively as Liz crossed her legs. "Ginger ale it is, then, for the landlubber! And the answer to your question is yes and no. Ginger ale will not prevent seasickness, but if your stomach is a bit upset, it is truly soothing. You may have noticed a tray of crystallized ginger by the exit to the dining room."
"Oh, that explains those little rocklike things next to the mints!"
"Cheers!" said Richard as he set down her glass and her bar tab.
"The first thing on my account," laughed Liz as she signed the tab.
"What? This shops didn't open after we left port?"
"I'm saving myself for tomorrow!"
Richard smiled as he handed her the receipt. "Thank you, Ms Bennet. You must come back when you get your sea legs. I make a mean daiquiri."
Liz waited for a half-hour and saw no sign of George. While she sat at the bar, she chatted with Richard. She learned that the crew nicknamed him "The Colonel" because he had been the bartender in this lounge for four years. He had been with Austen Cruise Lines for six years, spending the first two on the Sensibility before transferring to the Pride. She was laughing at something he said when she saw Fitz walk by, scowling.
Liz sighed, "I guess I've been stood up. I was supposed to meet someone here a half-hour ago but he still hasn't arrived. Guess I'll check out the show in the Regency Lounge."
"Foolish man if you ask me."
Liz flashed him a grateful smile and left. She hadn't walked five paces when Fitz fell into step beside her.
"What were you doing in there?" he snapped.
"Waiting for George."
"Flirting with the bartender, you mean. George probably saw you and left."
"No, he didn't. The mirror over the bar gave me a good view of the door. The only person I saw was you spying on me. Maybe George saw YOU and left. Look, it's only the first night. George is probably still trolling somewhere. Just be patient. Meanwhile, I'm going to the show. Care to join me? Perhaps we could practice the 'you're interested I'm not' thing?"
"I think we need to plan."
"I think I need to see the show. We can plan tomorrow." She turned and stalked away.
Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001
The show was a review of Broadway songs. The singers were very good and one of the dancers, she noticed, had a very Fosse style to his moves. They performed many of her favorites, and she relaxed and enjoyed the show.
What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play.
Life is a cabaret, old chum.
Come to the cabaret.
("Cabaret," Kander and Ebb)
Liz chuckled as she thought of Fitz Darcy, sitting alone in his room, probably sulking. Shoulda come to the cabaret, old chum!
Liz marveled at the entertainers' ability to change costumes between numbers and get back on stage quickly. When the dancers came out in tap shoes for "42nd Street," she couldn't believe it. She imagined the ship pitching and rolling in heavy seas, and wondered how the dancers would fare then.
She walked out of the lounge humming "One" from "A Chorus Line," which had been the closing number. She wandered into the casino and saw George at one of the tables. So it was Lady Luck he was pursuing tonight. She ambled toward George's table while looking away from him as if fascinated by the array of blinking, beeping slot machines.
"Liz! Oh, I am SO sorry! My luck was running so well that I forgot the time! Hang on a minute and we can go for that drink as soon as I finish this hand."
"No, no," Liz yawned, "It's late and I'm getting sleepy. If your luck is running well, stay at it. Listen, I don't know anything about gambling. Maybe you could teach me tomorrow, and we could have that drink then?" Gah! Am I really doing this dumb-bunny bit?!? And is he really buying it?
Wonder how much money she has to spend at the tables? "OK, see you here tomorrow, say 11-ish?"
"Great! Goodnight, George."
"Night Liz." He turned back to his game and Liz went to her cabin. She went out five minutes later to slip a note under the door to Fitz's cabin.
Fitz was, in fact, sulking in his cabin when he heard the rustle of a sheet of paper slipping under the door. Assuming that it was the next day's program of activities, he paid no attention. When he got up to get a drink of water, he found the single page of Austen Lines' stationary.
Fitz-"The casino? What is she up to?" He reached for the telephone to call Charles to relate the day's progress (or lack thereof, he thought) to the client. He quickly ran down the day's events. Then Charles gave Fitz the travel schedule for himself, Mr. Gardiner and Jane Gardiner.
Meeting G in casino tomorrow AM. Maybe you won't have to go to the trouble of pursuing me after all.L"
After the two men agreed to talk the next night, Charles asked, "By the way, Fitz, what do you think of Jane Gardiner? Isn't she an angel?"
"Charles, she's a client."
"Client's daughter, actually."
"Same thing. You know the rules," he sighed.
"You OK, Fitz?"
"Yeah, fine. Goodnight Charles."
Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001
Liz awoke to tiny points of light dancing on the ceiling. Sunlight was reflecting off the water and shining into her cabin. She stretched and picked up her little travel clock. ("Hotels always have clocks in the rooms, ships never do," Jane had warned.) 7 AM. She yawned. I could get up and walk on deck. Or maybe just a few more minutes...
Rrringg!
"H'lo?"
"Are you ever going to get up? It's after 8!"
"Fitz, that you?" She groped for the clock, "Can't be 8, it was 7 only a minute...oh!"
"You said we'd plan this morning."
"OK, just let me get some breakfast and then..."
"Meet me in the dining room at 8:30." Click.
Liz glared at the phone, "Sir! Yes, Sir" She saluted the phone and then blew a raspberry at it.
Liz strolled into the dining room at 8:35. She figured Fitz would have been there early, so a few extra minutes would really annoy him.
"You're late. We need to think about how we use these days at sea."
"Yes, regular coffee, thanks." She smiled at the waiter and then turned to Fitz. "OK, so I'm impressed that you're an early riser and a morning person, and that you had your breakfast hours ago. Now can I please just get some coffee into my system? You know, you should seriously consider switching to decaf."
He started to speak, but she held up her hand to silence him. "Don't. It won't sink in, so you'll have to repeat it anyhow." She drained her cup and the waiter returned with a refill. She ordered melon and an omelet, had another swallow of coffee and looked at Fitz.
"All right, now that I'm caffeinated, what's your plan for the day?"
"You tell me. You made a date with George."
"He's going to give me some pointers on gambling. He's VERY fond of the casino."
"George can spend money faster than anyone I know-even Charles's sister."
"Ah, it's always easy to spend when it's someone else's money."
At that point, breakfast arrived and they were spared the need for further conversation. When Liz had finished her omelet, she said that she would ad-lib the day and meet up with Fitz for dinner.
"Don't forget that tonight is formal. It's the Captain's cocktail party. You did bring something formal to wear?"
"Yes, Jane made sure that I would be prepared for anything."
"Good, we can appear to meet there. I'll go in ahead of you and pick you up when you come in. You should plan to be early, too, as there's a receiving line that can take a while to get through."
"What about George?"
"I'm betting that he'll be late, especially if he doesn't know how long the line can get. So when he arrives, he'll see us together. That should pique his interest. I wonder what he'll say when he realizes that we are both in a dining room a level 'above' his."
"Was that done on purpose?"
"Yes, Mr. Gardiner and I wanted to make sure you had some time when you could be away from George. Plus, it set up times when we could meet to plan."
"You really are good at this, aren't you?"
"Yes, even better when I get some cooperation."
She smiled grimly. "Point taken." She looked at her watch. "Hey! It's after 9! The shops are open!"
"Remember what you said about spending other people's money. Mr. Gardiner is a generous client, but you don't want to get carried away."
"Right, no diamonds, then. See you tonight!" And with a wave, she was off.
She left the dining room, went up one flight of steps, and headed for the shopping arcade. She looked briefly at the clothing and reeled at the prices. Glad I had Jane for a personal shopper! There was perfume in another shop, but they didn't carry her favorite scent. Duty free liquor? No, Jane had said the savings weren't worth the trouble of lugging the bottles off at the end of the cruise. Jewelry? No, she didn't think so. Fitz was right about not abusing Mr. Gardiner's generosity.
She found a small drugstore with the usual variety of personal items travelers often forgot. They also sold several seasick remedies, including "acupressure" wristbands. She shook her head at the rack of postcards. She knew that passengers could buy stamps at the purser's desk and even mail cards on board. If you were really lazy, you could send your postcards from right here and your friends would never know that you didn't get off the ship! Amazing. Film and batteries for cameras were on display by the register where there was an assortment of candies. Mmm, Elizabeth Shaw mints. Temptation! Liz remembered her new dress and quickly left the candy counter.
Ah, the Logo Shop. This was the source for souvenirs. There were shirts, hats, and all kinds of things with the Austen Lines' logo and images of the Pride. A corner of the logo shop had souvenirs for children. She was pleased to see that they did not have the ubiquitous "Grandma went on a cruise and all I got was this shirt" sort of thing. She went back to the adult clothing and chose a T-shirt for herself. Time to get ready for a gambling lesson!
Posted on Tuesday, 14 August 2001
Liz looked around the casino. Several women were playing slot machines, a man was playing a machine that appeared to be dealing poker, and a few people were at a blackjack table.
"Good morning! Ready for your lesson?"
"Hi, George! Did you sleep well?"
"Well enough, but it could have been better," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. Liz did her best to giggle, rather than gag, at this obvious line. George looked her over approvingly. "Hey, great shirt! Did you buy that on the ship?"
"Uh huh, I bought it this morning. Just couldn't resist. It's just so, I don't know...um, nautical."
"Certainly is." George took advantage of the conversation to look at the image of the Pride across Liz's chest.
Hah! And Fitz thought I couldn't get George's attention! "So, what do we do first?"
"First we buy some chips. You can sign for them to your on-board account."
Aha! WE buy chips so that YOU can play. Smooth, George, very smooth.
George walked up to a blackjack table and tossed a few chips on the table. The dealer gave each player one card face up and one card face down.
"You start with two cards. The object is to get 21 or as close as you can without going over 21. An ace is worth one or eleven, numbers are worth their face value, and picture cards are worth ten."
"So, a king and an ace would be 11 or 21?"
"Right, but you'd call the ace eleven in that case, not one. So you'd get 21, see?"
"Ah."
George had a 5 face up and a 6 face down. "Hit me."
"What a funny thing to say."
"It means 'give me another card.'" The dealer gave him a third card.
"Dealer also takes one," said the redhead behind the table.
George drew a 9. The dealer drew a king, which put her over 21, so George won.
"Well, that seems easy enough," Liz remarked. "Can I try?"
They played for a half-hour. Liz lost a little money overall, but she had made very conservative bets. George, who bet heavily to impress Liz, won at first, but then lost several hands.
George was about to explain splitting and doubling, but Liz said she didn't want to get herself confused by trying too much her first day.
They wandered to the Café, where a buffet lunch was served on a shaded area of the deck. They collected their food and found a table near the railing. Liz had salads and fruit. George had shrimp, roast beef, and fries.
George surveyed Liz's tray. "That's all you're having? It's all included in your fare, you know. Eat up!"
"No, I hate feeling too stuffed. This is fine. I love all the fruit, especially when someone cuts it up for me. I'm sorry if I sound like a health nut, but I'm going to walk a mile or so on the Promenade Deck."
"Not me," laughed George. "I'm going to park myself in a deck chair and have a snooze."
"Enjoy your nap. See you later."
It was windy on the deck, but joggers and walkers were taking their exercise anyway. Five times around the deck equaled a mile. Liz breathed the sea air and decided that this was far better than walking on one of the treadmills in the Health Club. As she walked, she thought about George. It was hard to believe that he was such a scoundrel. He was friendly, funny, charming. Except for the remark about sleeping alone, he had been a perfect gentleman. And really, that remark had been more joke than innuendo, hadn't it?
She paused by one of the windows where George had checked his reflection the day before. Her hair was windblown and her nose was getting sunburned. Time to go indoors and think about primping for the captain's cocktail party.
Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001
Fitz had been right about the line for the cocktail party. The line snaked from the stairwell, past the Library, and into the Derbyshire Room. The staff photographers were taking formal portraits outside the Library. Liz tried to decline, saying it would feel too vain to buy pictures of herself, but the photographer refused to take "no" for an answer.
When she reached the doorway to the Derbyshire Room, the ship's Hostess, Ms. Eliot asked her name, and then said, Captain Wentworth, this is Ms. Bennet."
"Welcome, Miss Bennet. I trust you are enjoying yourself?"
"Oh, yes, the Pride is a lovely ship."
They smiled for the photographer, and Liz walked on as she heard the Hostess introduce Captain Wentworth to an elderly couple from Connecticut. Poor man, he must get tired of all the small talk and smiling.
Fitz watched the stream of passengers enter the room. Men were in dark suits or tuxedos, women in long gowns or cocktail dresses. He liked the formality, as he believed that people generally behaved better when they were dressed up. But why do women think that black is the only dressy color? Has the "New York uniform" become the "cruise uniform" as well?
Fitz took a sip of champagne as he glanced at his watch. He sighed. Can she never be on time? A sudden bright flash in the expanse of black interrupted his thoughts. Well, someone has some style.
He took another sip of champagne and almost choked when the woman in red turned around.
Liz accepted a flute of champagne from a waiter stationed just inside the door to the Derbyshire Room. She scanned the room, noticing a sea of black gowns and black tuxes. She found Fitz and gave him a little smile. He had the oddest look on his face, as if he had choked. He stared back at her. Great, first I'm not "flashy enough to attract George," and now he thinks I'm too flashy. Oh well, Mr. Darcy, I like it and you'll just have to get over it. Little did she know, Fitz was wondering if he'd ever get over the sight of her in that red dress.
Liz raised her chin defiantly and walked toward the bar to say hello to Richard. "Hi, Colonel, who's minding the Corner?"
"Hi, landlubber! That bar is closed for the next few hours while I help with the crush in here. Are you ready for a daiquiri yet?"
"No thanks." She held up her champagne flute, "This is definitely an occasion for champagne." A waiter approached the bar with an order to be filled, and Liz turned away to admire a large arrangement of flowers on a nearby table.
Fitz's jaw tightened when he saw Liz heading toward the bartender. Flirting with some crewmember was not likely to impress George. On the other hand, that dress would certainly impress George. She looked stunning. The beads of the long red silk dress glittered with her every movement. Her hair was pulled up into a French twist, and he found himself staring at the small tendrils that had escaped and lay along her neck. He hadn't seen her with her hair pulled up like that. He had never imagined her dressed like that.
As she moved toward the flowers, Fitz approached her, "Good evening."
"Hello."
He held out his hand, "Fitz Darcy."
She took it, "Liz Bennet."
"Are you enjoying the cruise?"
"Yes, thank you. Today a nice young man taught me to play blackjack."
"Oh. Do you enjoy gambling?"
"Not really."
"Would you care to dance?"
"Why ... I had not ... I thank you, yes."
He led her to the dance floor, where they joined a few other couples dancing to "They Can't Take That Away From Me." Liz hadn't thought about dancing when she bought the low-backed dress. The light pressure of Fitz's hand on her skin was making her feel quite warm. She had no idea that it was having a similar effect on him.
They danced in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she said, "I believe we must have some conversation, Mr. Darcy. A very little will suffice. I might remark that this is one of my favorite Gershwin songs. You might tell me what your favorite song is."
"Do you talk by rule then, when you're dancing?"
"We've just met, remember? It would look odd if we didn't talk, don't you think?"
"Yes, um, you seem taller tonight."
"That's because of the heels. I feel like I'm on stilts, but the dress was too long, and it was easier to make me taller than make a beaded hemline shorter. I'm grateful that the sea is so calm this evening. These shoes have disaster written all over them. You men have no idea how easy it is for you. Even when you are dressed up, you get to wear flat shoes."
"But we have to wear tight collars and ties, so that evens the score."
The band segued into their next song, and Liz and Darcy continued to dance.
"This one."
"This what?"
"This song. You asked what my favorite Gershwin is. It's this one."
She looked up at him in surprise and whispered, "Mine, too."
He began to sing very softly, "In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble. They're only made of clay. But our love is here to-" *
Flash! Startled, they turned to the photographer, who grinned and said, "You're gonna love this picture." The moment, and whatever might have become of it, was lost.
George entered the room. Fitz saw him before Liz did, and without realizing what he was doing, held her more tightly.
"He's here." Fitz plastered a neutral smile on his face and Liz feigned boredom, although her heart was doing flip-flops from the way Fitz was holding her. The increased pressure of his hand on her back felt almost possessive. It felt good. Don't make something out of this. It's just a performance for George's benefit. It doesn't mean a thing. And that's how I want it, right?
George was stunned. What was Fitz Darcy doing on this cruise? And out of all the women on the ship, he was dancing with Liz. Then George saw that she looked bored. He smiled. This could be fun.
"Excuse me, may I cut in?" George favored Liz with a broad smile.
Liz glanced at Fitz. The mask was back. He simply nodded and walked away.
George took her in his arms and murmured, "You look stunning."
She smiled, "Thank you."
Fitz stood by the windows and looked out at the sea and the dark sky. He accepted another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It's all going according to plan. This is what's supposed to happen. So why doesn't that make me happy?"
* "Our Love is Here to Stay" George and Ira Gershwin
Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001
While Fitz scowled at the sea, George swept Liz across the dance floor. He asked, "How long have you known Fitz Darcy?"
"We just met. He isn't very interesting." She smiled up at George. "I'm glad you came along when you did."
"Always a pleasure to rescue a damsel in distress." George tightened his hold on Liz, much as Fitz had done earlier. Liz wondered why it didn't give her the same sense of comfort.
"Distress? Well, that might be a strong word. George, do you know Fitz Darcy?"
"Yes, we were boyhood friends."
"Oh, perhaps you'd like to go over and talk to him-wait a minute, you said WERE friends?"
"Yes, it's a long story, and not appropriate for a party."
"From the tone of your voice I gather it isn't a pretty story? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
Just then band stopped playing, and Brian, the Cruise Director, stepped up to the microphone to welcome everyone to the reception. His question, "Did you have a good time today?" was met with a round of enthusiastic applause.
"Good, good! Tomorrow we will be in beautiful Bermuda. We should dock at Kings Wharf around 7:30, and you will be able to get off by 8:30 to catch your tours or take the ferry to Hamilton, where you can visit the shops along Front Street. My staff will be dockside, so look for us if you have any questions. And now, I'd like to introduce the Master of the Austen Pride, Captain Frederick Wentworth!"
Captain Wentworth strode to the front of the room and accepted the microphone from Brian. "Thank you, Brian. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I always enjoy getting to meet the passengers. You smiling faces tell me that our staff is doing a good job." This remark, too, was met with applause.
"We on the Pride are here to see that you have a wonderful cruise experience. The weather should continue to cooperate tonight, and I can promise you that conditions will be very smooth tomorrow," he paused waiting for the joke to sink in, "when we're docked in Bermuda." Polite laughter followed.
"Those of you who have been aboard the Pride before have undoubtedly noticed that she has been refurbished. She just came off a refit a few months ago, and all cabins and public rooms were redecorated at that time. Although some places look a bit different, she is still the Pride that we know and love. And she is soon to have a new sister. Austen Cruise Lines is proud to announce that we are building another ship. She will not replace any of our existing ships, but will expand our services in Europe. She has not been named yet, so if you'd like to suggest a name, please leave a note at the Purser's desk. And no, we are not yet taking reservations for her maiden voyage. And now, I am told that the dining rooms await you, so bon a petit and enjoy your evening!"
The passengers applauded, drained their champagne glasses, and began to drift out of the room.
George didn't pay much attention to the Captain. He was too busy considering his next move. Perhaps Liz would warm to his sad tale. After all, she hadn't sounded terribly enthusiastic about Darcy. George smiled as he imagined spoiling Darcy's shipboard romance. And maybe I'll get a little "romance" out of it, too.
George turned to Liz, "Shall we go to dinner? Oh, I forgot. We're in different dining rooms. Maybe we can meet later? Let's give the Colonel's Corner another try."
"That would be lovely. I'll meet you there."
George left the room and, as soon as he was gone, Fitz was at Liz's side. "So?"
"I'm meeting him after dinner. Apparently, he has a story to tell about you." She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but before Fitz could reply, Captain Wentworth walked up to them.
"Fitz, good to see you again. How did you sneak in here without running the photographic gauntlet outside?"
"Sorry, I'll never tell. I have no wish to get any of your staff in trouble!"
"Well then, sir, your punishment is to join me at my table this evening and share your lovely lady in red instead of keeping her all to yourself." Liz blushed at the compliment and the implication that she was "Fitz's lady."
"Captain Wentworth, Liz Bennet."
"Miss Bennet, if I may?" He offered his arm. Liz took it and glanced over her shoulder at Fitz, who was quietly following behind, still in awe of the glamorous "lady in red."
Posted on Tuesday, 21 August 2001
Captain Wentworth was seated at the head of an oval table. At the opposite end sat Anne Eliot, the Pride's Hostess. Liz sat to the Captain's right, with Fitz next to her. Also seated at the table were a retired doctor and his wife, a couple who were both professors at Columbia University, a young woman from the Austen home office, and her fiancé.
"What do you do at Austen, Mary?" asked Liz.
"I maintain the website. It's a lot of fun. I get all the press releases in advance so that they can be posted at the same time they hit the media, I see sailing schedules before the travel agents do, all sorts of neat stuff."
"So, is it true that the new ship hasn't been named?"
"Right now, she is just hull number 692. That's the shipyard's designation. The company thought about a competition to name the new ship, but then they decided not to. I think the powers that be probably have a name in mind, but nobody is telling."
"They should name it for you," said her fiancé gallantly.
"Uh, Honey, it's been done. The Queen Mary, remember?"
Conversation ended when the menus arrived. Liz giggled when Fitz leaned over to her and pointed out the lobster, served with cardinal sauce. "See, told you," he laughed.
The waiters returned to answer questions, and the Captain asked, "What do you recommend tonight?"
"Everything is good, sir."
"As it should be, but are there any particular hints you'd like to give?"
"From the other end of the table, Anne Eliot scowled at her boss. "Really, sir, you always put the waiters on the spot."
"Keeps them on their toes," he grinned. "Very well, then, we accept your pronouncement that it's all good."
"One thing that I should point out," said the waiter, "Is that the lobster is served split, so that you don't have to deal with cracking the shell. Also, I can take it out of the shell for you, so that you don't risk getting the drawn butter on your clothing."
"Oh, where's the fun in that?" laughed Liz. "The only way to eat lobster is with your sleeves rolled up so that you can get butter all over yourself!"
"Lobster roll, that's my favorite," said Mary.
"No, lobster Newburg!" exclaimed the doctor.
"Not on your diet, dear," sighed his wife. "Chicken for you, I think. And for me as well."
Liz decided on rack of lamb, served medium rare. The Captain and his Hostess also ordered lamb. Fitz opted for beef Wellington, and the rest of the table chose lobster (except the low-cholesterol doctor and wife). The captain ordered wine for the table, and everyone relaxed as the appetizers were served.
Liz reached over to taste Fitz's salmon mousse, "Mmm, delicious."
"Hey! I told you to order one for yourself." He playfully slapped at her hand, while swiping a piece of crabmeat from her plate.
"I saw that, mister!"
"Cool! Food fight!" giggled Mary. Champagne followed by wine seemed to have relaxed everyone's inhibitions.
Liz turned as crimson as her dress when she realized that they had been misbehaving at the Captain's table. The whole table erupted in laughter, and people at nearby tables began to look on curiously.
"Pity, isn't it?" asked Fitz in mock despair. "She cleans up so pretty, but just can't behave herself!"
"You started it," hissed Liz at Fitz, and everyone laughed again. Captain Wentworth was quietly thinking about what was to come. I hope it goes well, and then you two can relax and realize how perfect-his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the sorbet.
The sweet, cassis-flavored sorbet was followed by the main courses. Liz watched Fitz cut into his beef Wellington.
"What? Do you want a taste of this, too?"
"No, I don't care for it because of the liver pate. But I'm admiring the puff pastry. That's the tricky part, especially when you order it rare. The chef has to get it hot enough to puff the pastry without overcooking the meat. Anyhow, nothing on your plate could tempt me to trade a morsel of this lamb. It's perfect."
"Are you a chef, Ms. Bennet?" asked one of the Columbia professors.
"No, I'm just interested in cooking. I love to read cookbooks, and I test out new recipes on my friends. Lately I've been baking all sorts of pastries."
"Then, Ms. Bennet, do not miss tonight's midnight buffet," said Anne Eliot. "It's the dessert extravaganza. Tons of chocolate! And go in early with your camera. The preview is just for taking pictures, mind you. No fair sneaking an early taste!"
"I did see that in the daily program. Thanks for the reminder, Ms. Eliot."
Dinner plates were removed, but the menus were not brought back for dessert choices. Captain Wentworth explained, "I've arranged an early preview of the midnight buffet. These are my favorites, and since I'll be on the bridge at midnight, I'm getting my dessert now. And if you're a pastry aficionado, Miss Bennet, you'll like these."
The waiter brought out a tray of cream puffs.
"Swans!" cried Liz. "They're adorable! But how do they get the pastry to stand up like a swan's neck?"
"It's baked that way," said Fitz.
"Well, of course! But choux pastry is piped from a pastry bag onto the baking sheet. How do they get that shape?"
"Shoe pastry? These are made out of shoes?"
"Gah! Choux pastry C-H-O-U-X. It's French, silly! Oh, these are too pretty to eat."
The whole table was laughing again. Anne Eliot sat with her chin on her hand, wistfully watching the Captain as he smiled at the bickering couple.
"No they aren't. Trust me on this," said Captain Wentworth.
"Trust him," echoed Anne. "He does this every week."
When the last swan had been devoured, everyone thanked the Captain for his hospitality, and then headed on to the evening's activities.
Fitz held Liz's chair as she stood up. "Well," he said.
"Well." She paused. "I guess I'm off to meet George. Wish I didn't have to, though." Wish I could dance with you again instead.
"Duty calls, I'm afraid. Off you go." Don't dance with George again.
"Maybe I'll see you at the buffet? I doubt George will prefer chocolate chips to casino chips. But I want to go to the buffet at 11:45 to take pictures."
"Get your camera now, before you meet George."
"Why?"
"In case he decides to go to the buffet with you, it would be better if you didn't go back to your cabin with him in tow. Humor me. Please?"
"All right."
Fitz walked Liz back to her cabin. As she unlocked the door, he said softly, "I didn't get a chance to tell you."
She turned, "Tell me what?" Those brown eyes were so close. Then there were loud voices in the corridor, and a couple walked by arguing about how much he had lost in the casino.
"Tell me what?" she repeated.
"You, um, uh," Geez, just say it Fitz, "You have powdered sugar on your nose. From the swans." D*mn! You coward! How difficult is it to tell a woman she's beautiful?
"Oh." She rubbed her nose. "See you later."
Liz shut the door to her cabin and sighed. She couldn't figure him out at all. So she decided to think about him later. She grabbed her camera, checked her nose for powdered sugar, and headed up to the Colonel's Corner to meet George and hear his story.
Posted on Tuesday, 28 August 2001
When Liz arrived at the bar, George was already there. He had taken a table in the corner, far from the bar and the piano player. He was sipping whisky and surveying the occupants of the room, trying to estimate their worth.
"Sorry I'm late. I was invited to have dinner at the Captain's table, and it always takes longer to get through dinner with a large group."
"I hope it was pleasant."
"Yes, the Captain is very witty, and I met some interesting passengers."
"I assume Fitz was there?"
"You're right, he was, but why did you assume that?" Liz began to wonder if their "cover story" was coming unraveled.
"His uncle owns, among other things, a shipyard in Europe," explained George. "I think it's where Austen has their ships built, so if the Captain knows who Fitz is, he'd probably invite him. Good for business."
"Oh, so that's why he knew Mr. Darcy by name. I don't know how the rest of us were chosen for the honor. Maybe Ms Eliot invited them."
"Who is she?"
"She's the ship's Hostess. She introduced you to the Captain in the receiving line."
"Ah, the mousy one."
"George, that isn't nice! She's quite pretty, actually. You should see how her face lights up when-oh, OH! I wonder. You know what? I think she's in love with Captain Wentworth!"
George groaned in mock horror. "Oh, no, don't tell me. You're a hopeless romantic!"
"And what's so wrong with that?"
"Absolutely nothing. I think you're sweet." And with that, he took Liz's hand and kissed it gallantly.
Well, I guess we've established our roles. Somebody cue the "Loveboat" theme! Liz looked up as a waiter approached.
"What can I get for you, Miss?"
"Tell the Colonel that the landlubber is ready to try one of his daiquiris. He'll understand."
"Another for you sir?"
George nodded and the waiter walked to the bar. Richard looked up sharply, and Liz gave him a smile and a little wave.
George was a bit annoyed, "You know the bartender?"
Well, YEAH! I spent a half-hour in here the other evening, waiting for YOU, remember? "Yes, I met him when I was in here the other night. So, George, tell me about Fitz Darcy. I was wondering about your story all through dinner."
"I've known Fitz since we were kids. Our fathers met through a business deal and became good friends. They played golf together just about every weekend. When I was in high school, I started joining them for golf. Fitz was never interested in golf, and I think he resented my friendship with his father. It got worse after my own father died, and George Darcy became a second father to me. You've met Fitz, so you know how dull he is. I think his father enjoyed having the company of a livelier young man.
"Unbeknownst to me, my father had had some business troubles. It wasn't until I started to sort out his estate that I realized we had very little money left. Mr. Darcy offered to pay my tuition so that I could finish graduate school, but Fitz talked him out of it. Fortunately, I was able to get a grant and finish my MBA. I kept on civil terms with Fitz out of respect and concern for Mr. Darcy, who was by then quite ill.
"When I finished school, I had hoped to work for one of the Darcy companies, but by that time, Mr. Darcy was dying and Fitz was in control of things. Fitz made sure that nobody at Darcy would hire me."
"That's horrible! Wait a minute. Darcy companies? Plural?" asked Liz. "What sort of companies?"
"Darcy, Inc. is into all kinds of industries. Fitz's own pet company is a PI firm. He went to Annapolis, and tells people that he was trained as a Navy Seal. You know, commando stuff. The PI thing is his macho fantasy."
"Fitz was a Seal? I can't picture that." Actually, she could picture it. Images of Fitz in a wetsuit were beginning to distract her.
"No, the thing is, he didn't actually become a Seal. He flunked out of the special training." George smirked, "Instead he did his time in the Navy diving behind a desk somewhere."
"And now he works for the Darcy companies?"
"Not exactly, he OWNS them. Didn't you now? Fitz is rich. That's what hurts so much-he could have afforded to help me out. He would never have missed the money. But he was too mean to help someone he envied."
"I've seen how arrogant and superior he can be. Must be awful to be on the receiving end of that."
"Yes," agreed George. "Of course, he knows how to cover up the mean streak with social graces. He is very polished and polite when he wants to be. But if you cross him, forget it! Once you lose his good opinion, you lose it forever."
They finished their drinks, and George suggested that they go up on deck for some fresh air. On the way, Liz was quiet, wondering how much of George's story was true. Fitz was arrogant, and appeared aloof, she could vouch for that. But she had seen how his expression softened when he spoke of his mother or his sister. Liz knew that Fitz couldn't be as bad as George made him seem, but George's story was so convincing. Was there some truth to it, or was it simply well rehearsed?
They walked out onto the Sun Deck and looked up at the stars. Without any prompting from Liz, George picked up his story.
"You know what hurts the most, even more than the money? In banning me from his life, he banned me from his sister's life, too."
"His sister?" asked Liz, with a sinking feeling. What was it Jane said? Something about having the impression that Fitz had a personal stake in this.
"Oh yes, we were great friends, although she is quite a bit younger. I used to entertain her with stories and games when she was little. When she was 12, I taught her to play the guitar. Fitz, of course, thought she should have spent the time on her piano practice.
"After her mother died, Gina was miserable. I took her out a few times to cheer her up. I arrived at the house to pick her up one evening and Fitz was there. He threw me out and threatened to have me arrested. It was just dinner, for crying out loud! I don't know what he told her, but the last time I saw her she wouldn't even speak to me. I feel as if I lost my little sister."
"Oh, George, how terrible!" Liz managed to sniffle a bit, but couldn't bring tears to her eyes.
"Hey, I didn't mean to depress you. Come on! A drink and a trip to the casino will cheer us up. What do you say?"
"No thanks, George. You go on, though. I don't want to be up too late because I have to get up early for a tour tomorrow. Are you going sightseeing tomorrow?"
"Nah, Bermuda's pretty boring unless you want to buy English china or wool sweaters. I'll stay on the ship, maybe check out the computers and spend some time on the net." I wonder what that cute redhead from the casino does when the gambling tables are closed while we're in port?
George noticed the camera hanging from Liz's shoulder. "What's with the camera?"
"I'm going to take pictures of the midnight buffet. It's all fancy desserts and there will be ice carvings and pretty decorations. They let people go in early to take photographs."
"You're gonna take pictures of FOOD?"
"Oh, yes, that's what everyone will ask about when I get home-what was the food like, and things like that."
"Whatever. I guess I'll see you tomorrow sometime. Goodnight, Liz."
"Goodnight, George. Good luck at the casino."
Posted on Tuesday, 28 August 2001
Liz had about 20 minutes to kill before the photo op, so she sat in a deck chair and tried to identify the constellations overhead. Anything to avoid thinking about George's story. The door to the stairway opened, and a man walked out. The light behind him briefly silhouetted a broad-shouldered frame and then the door closed. The man walked over to the rail and gazed out at the sea. I know that pose, thought Liz.
Fitz sighed and ran his hand through his curly hair. He wondered what George was telling Liz. He worried about how she'd respond. His feelings were getting out of control and he didn't like it. This is a job, he told himself. Don't let it get personal. She's a big girl, she'll be all right.
Fitz heard footsteps on deck behind him. A soft voice said, "Hey sailor." He turned around.
"Liz!"
"Fitz, is something wrong?"
"No, just the usual concerns about a job." Not to mention concerns about you.
"Are you sure? If there's something you need to talk about..."
"No, but thanks for the offer. How did it go with George?"
"Big long story, and I'm really too tired to go into it tonight. It's almost 11:45. Come to the buffet and have another swan. I wonder if we could put some on a plate and have a waiter sneak them up to the Bridge?"
"I wouldn't worry about that," replied Fitz. "Somehow, I have a feeling Ms Eliot will see to it that he gets his swans."
"So, you noticed it, too? I wonder if he has any idea of how she feels about him."
"I don't know. They worked together years ago on another ship, but I haven't seen Anne Eliot on the Pride before this." He shook his head. "Romantic attachments at work are never a good idea. It just gets messy. I had to go over all that with Charles again when we exchanged status reports on the phone tonight."
"Charles?"
"Yes, he ... well, never mind. Let's go look at the buffet." He opened the door to the stairway. When they reached the next deck, they could hear laughter drifting out of one of the lounges, as passengers enjoyed a comedian's performance.
They avoided going near the casino, and arrived at the midnight buffet just in time for the photo op. Passengers were snapping pictures like mad and exclaiming over the clever decorations. An ice carving of a dolphin glistened under a spotlight. The dolphin was rising from a sea of jumbo shrimp. Scattered around the table were decorative goldfish made of lemons, with fins and gills carved out of slices of carrots.
Watermelons carved like giant cameos were surrounded by platters of cheese. A chocolate sculpture of an eagle dominated another table. Chocolate-covered strawberries and pineapple slices covered a huge platter. Next to that was an enormous bowl of chocolate mousse. Farther down the table was an assortment of chocolate cakes.
Liz turned around and squealed, "There they are!" The swans were arranged on a huge mirror, which created the illusion that they were floating on a lake.
"They're too pretty to eat," said a woman next to Fitz. Liz smiled at her.
"Oh, no they're not. They're wonderful, light as a feather."
"Light as swan's down," laughed Fitz. "And it's midnight, so go to it!"
"I couldn't."
"Yes, you can," he said, putting two swans on a plate and handing it to the woman. "Enjoy!"
Fitz took another plate, put more swans on it and handed the plate to Liz. "Here you go, more swans."
They collected some samples of other desserts and found a table.
"This is truly decadent," sighed Liz. "I can't believe I'm eating again! I'll have to spend all of tomorrow running around Promenade Deck to work this off."
"Um, speaking of tomorrow, did you make any plans?"
"No, I didn't sign up for any tours in case something came up with George. But you were right. He thinks Bermuda is boring and he's staying on the ship."
"My aunt has a house on Bermuda and I'm going there for breakfast. You're welcome to join me, and then we could do some sightseeing."
"Oh no, I couldn't impose on your family."
"It's no imposition at all. The only people there are the caretakers, and they're more like old friends than servants. Frankly, I'd be less inclined to go if Aunt Catherine were there. Jenkinson will pick me up here at about 8:30. Can you get up that early?"
"Ha, ha, very funny Mr. Morning Person. Yes, I can get up early. Will caffeine be involved?"
"I promise you caffeine. Now, will you come with me?"
"Sounds lovely. But if I have to rise early, I'd better get to bed. See you in the morning."
Fitz watched Liz thread her way gracefully through the crowded tables. He smiled, she has found her sea legs, that's for sure.
The woman to whom he had given the swans stopped by the table. She patted Fitz on the shoulder.
"Thank you for the swans. They were delicious. By the way, I think your girlfriend is very pretty. You make an adorable couple."
"Oh, she's...yes, she's beautiful, isn't she?"
Posted on Monday, 3 September 2001
Liz woke early. Something about the ship felt different. She looked out the window and noticed that they were moving slowly. And she could see land. Bermuda! She dressed quickly, and was looking for her camera and a spare roll of film when there was a knock on the door.
"Room service."
"No, no," she called. "I didn't order room service."
"Caffeine, ma'am. Ordered just for you."
"What the-" Liz opened the door to find Fitz standing there, grinning and holding a mug of coffee. He waved it under her nose.
"Mmm, doesn't that smell yummy?"
Liz reached for the mug, but Fitz backed away, saying, "That's it, good girl, you can do it, just follow the lovely smell of coffee."
She gritted her teeth and said slowly, "Give me the ****ing mug of coffee and nobody will get hurt."
"Ms. Bennet! Such language! Surely you don't use that word in the courtroom!"
"By the time I get to the courtroom, I've already had my coffee! Now gimme!"
Fitz surrendered the mug, laughing. "Get your camera and let's go look at Bermuda."
They stood at the rail on Promenade Deck. Liz sipped her coffee as Fitz pointed out landmarks. Liz pointed to several houses that she liked.
One in particular caught her fancy. It was painted creamy yellow, with a bright white roof. A wide verandah wrapped around the house. Steps led down from the verandah to a landscaped lawn complete with pool and little cabanas. A boathouse and dock completed the property. A long sailboat and a smaller motorboat were tied up at the dock.
"Oh, Fitz! That's the prettiest one yet!"
"Really? You don't like the blue one next door? It's bigger. I think an English movie star owns it."
"Well, I wouldn't turn down any of them if someone offered one to me. But the yellow one is my favorite. Look! Someone is taking the boat out. What a neat way to commute to work!"
The Pride turned slightly and Liz could see a lighthouse in the distance. She asked Fitz about it.
"Not surprisingly, Bermuda has several lighthouses. That's Gibbs Hill. You can climb to the top, if you're considering working off last night's dessert feast. And then you can undo all that good work by having afternoon tea in the shop at the base of the lighthouse. Or you can be a slug and just have the tea and skip the climb."
"I am not a slug, sir!"
"Uh huh, just keep eating and we'll see!"
"What are all those stone buildings ahead?
"That's King's Wharf, near where we'll tie up. The buildings were part of a fort, and now there are shops and a maritime museum there. And the newer building farther to the left is a modern prison."
"No wonder George isn't getting off the ship here!"
The Powerful, one of Bermuda's tugboats, nudged the Pride into position at the dock. The Officer of the Watch announced that passengers should stay away from the gangway area until the ship was cleared by Immigration and Customs.
Liz and Fitz stayed on deck and watched as a parade of taxis and buses arrived to collect passengers for tours. A ferry was standing by, too, ready to take people into Hamilton, Bermuda's capital city. Fitz was suggesting they go to their cabins to get organized for the day when he was interrupted by a voice on the loudspeakers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the Officer of the Watch. The ship has been cleared, and you may go ashore at your leisure. Enjoy your day in Bermuda, and remember to be back by 6 PM, as we will sail shortly thereafter."
The line of passengers moved slowly down the gangway. At the bottom, photographers were posing passengers for pictures.
Fitz sighed, "I hate this part. I'm always eager to get going, and I have no intention of buying a picture of me next to a sign that says 'Welcome to Wherever.' Too touristy."
"Maybe they should have an express lane for people who don't want pictures."
"Never happen. The photographs are a profit center, after all."
"That reminds me, I must check out the photos when we get back. I want to see how my portrait turned out. You didn't have a portrait done, did you?"
Fitz was about to answer when the photographer called out, "Smile!"
So they smiled, the flash went off, and they stepped off the gangway as the photographer called out "Smile!" to the next people in line.
Fitz led Liz away from the crowds and the taxis. He headed for a dock where several boats were tied up.
"Where's your friend's car?" asked Liz.
"Right here." He pointed at a motorboat. The name "Annie" was painted across the stern. A spry, gray-haired man jumped onto the dock.
"Good morning Mr. Fitz! Good to see you, sir."
"Jenkinson! You look well. How is Mrs. Jenkinson?"
"She is well, too. Welcome to Bermuda, Miss. Are you enjoying your cruise?"
"Oh, yes. I'm looking forward to seeing Bermuda."
"Then let's get started." He jumped down into the boat and offered Liz his hand. "Here you go, Miss."
Fitz got in behind Liz, and led her to the seats at the stern. Nestled on the seat was a picnic basket.
"The ride is smoother back here. It can be bouncy when the boat is going full throttle. You'd better hold onto that hat you like so much. Just between you and me, Jenkinson can be a bit of a show-off, especially when he has a young lady to impress."
"No, no, Mr. Fitz, I believe you're confusing me with your uncle," replied Jenkinson as he untied the boat.
Fitz laughed and opened the basket. Inside, he found a thermos, mugs, and some muffins still warm from the oven.
"You requested caffeine, ma'am?"
"I don't believe this! How did Jenkinson know to bring coffee?"
"I called him last night and placed the order."
Liz shook her head. Now who's showing off?
Jenkinson started the engine and eased the boat away from the dock. As if to prove that he was not a show-off, he kept to a gentle speed.
Liz leaned back and savored her coffee. She asked Fitz, "You didn't answer my question earlier. How did you evade the photographers last night?"
"Oh, I know my way around the ship pretty well."
"Is that because your uncle built the Pride?"
"How do you know about my uncle?"
"George said he owns a shipyard."
"Yes, Uncle Lewis did build the Pride. I've seen the original plans, and I got to see her during the construction, which was fascinating. Uncle Lewis is building the new ship, too. He always jokes that he builds them, but has no say in naming them."
"What about this one? Who is Annie?"
"She's his daughter, which makes her my cousin. They're an interesting family. Uncle Lewis is a friendly, outgoing man with a booming voice. Aunt Catherine is quiet, conservative, and the family's authority on manners, punctuality, and proper behavior. She tried to bring up Anne to be a socialite. You know, marry well and give lovely dinner parties and organize charity events. Aunt Catherine nearly had a fit when Anne got her MBA instead of a degree in something more 'ladylike,' such as English lit."
"What does Anne do with her MBA? Give parties for business people?"
Fitz laughed, "No way! She runs my companies. I assume George told you something about Darcy, Inc.?"
"A little."
"Well, I'm Chairman of the Board, and Anne is my CEO. When Dad became ill, I had to take on the family businesses. At first I was sort of Dad's puppet, carrying out his instructions. Gradually, as I learned how things worked, I took on more and more responsibility. But I can't say that I enjoyed it. I was still in the Navy, and I had to juggle my job there and my responsibilities at Darcy.
"Dad had just died when Anne surprised us all by getting a degree in business. I took her on, and we ran things together. Once she got up to speed on everything, I left her in charge of the day-to-day, and I went back to the Navy and finished my time. After that, I started my own little business, which I do enjoy running."
"Anne sounds amazing."
"That she is. She is quiet, thin, almost frail. But she has a will of iron. That's the funny part. The one thing she has in common with her mother is that stubborn will. You could sell tickets to their confrontations. Aunt Catherine loses her temper, but Anne stays quiet and cool, which just makes Aunt Catherine angrier. Watching the two of them can be funny and scary at the same time. You can feel it coming, like a thunderstorm. Uncle Lewis usually manages to disappear until it all blows over."
"You call her Anne, but the boat is Annie."
"Only her father calls her Annie. Just as he is the only one who calls Aunt Catherine Cate. Sometimes I think he has delusions of being Petruccio! Ah, here we are. This is Rosings."
The boat pulled up to a dock next to a creamy yellow boathouse.
"Fitz! This is the house I saw this morning! Why didn't you tell me?"
"And miss the look on your face? Never!"
Fitz helped Liz out of the boat and led her up the path to the house. A tall, thin woman ran out.
"Mr. Fitz! I'm so glad you could come! Ms. Bennet, welcome to Rosings." Mrs. Jenkinson hugged Fitz and turned to shake Liz's hand.
"Your taste is improving, Mr. Fitz," she said, causing him to blush. "Come and sit, breakfast is almost ready."
A table on the verandah was set for three. Coffee, melon, and more muffins were already on the table. Liz was about to ask Fitz who would be joining them for breakfast when a tall, well-tanned man strode out of the house.
"Fitz, my boy! Good to see you! Sorry I wasn't able to pick you up, but I've been on the phone all morning. Cursed time zones-it's mid-day in Europe and everyone there seems to need to talk to me." He turned to look at Liz. "Good morning, young lady. Miss Bennet, isn't it? Oh, sorry, make that Ms Bennet. Annie keeps telling me that 'Miss' is too old-fashioned."
"Yes, it is Ms Bennet, but please call me Liz."
"And you must call me Lewis. Welcome to Bermuda, Liz. Is this your first visit?"
Liz nodded, and before she could say anything, Mr. de Bourgh continued. "Well, then, we'll have to give you the grand tour. I have an appointment in Hamilton this afternoon, but we can run out to St. Georges this morning. It's a pretty drive. But then, everywhere in Bermuda gives you a lovely view. Did you bring a camera? Wonderful."
As Mrs. Jenkinson set fluffy omelets on the table, Liz thought back to Fitz's description of his uncle. Outgoing was an understatement. He chatted with Liz as though she were an old friend, not a new acquaintance. He was regaling Liz with tales of Fitz and Annie's childhood scrapes when Mrs. Jenkinson walked onto the verandah.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir. Telephone." She held up the cordless phone.
"Who is it now?"
"LEWIS!" Cried the imperious voice inside the phone.
"Whoops! It's the boss. Excuse me." He took the phone and walked away from the table. As he departed, Liz and Fitz could hear his side of the conversation, "Cate! How is Paris, my dear? Have you bankrupted me at all the couturiers yet? Now don't go buying frilly things for Annie, you know she won't wear them..."
"Wow," breathed Liz after Lewis de Bourgh disappeared into the house.
"What?" asked Fitz.
"Your uncle. He's overwhelming. If his daughter is anything like him, I can see why you have her running your companies. And this house! I feel as if I've been plunked down in the middle of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.' This is incredible."
Fitz tapped her plate with his fork. "Finish your breakfast."
After breakfast, Fitz and his uncle caught up on family business. While they were in the library, Mrs. Jenkinson gave Liz a tour of the house. She took Liz up to the attic to show her how the roof was built and explained how the roof collects rainwater, which is then stored. Houses in Bermuda were built this way because Bermuda has no natural source of fresh water.
Liz admired the way the rooms were kept cool by the thickness of the walls and the way the shutters were hinged at the top so that they could be propped open and still shade the windows. In the living room, Liz noticed a collection of framed photographs on a table. Mrs. Jenkinson smiled as she watched Liz.
"That's Mrs. de Bourgh with Miss Anne as a baby. And there's Mr. Fitz and Miss Anne all dressed up for Easter. Let's see, he would be about 10 and she's 7 in this picture. The toddler in the stroller is his sister, Miss Georgiana."
Liz look at the other pictures, and stopped when she came to a picture of Fitz on a sailboat. His hair was windblown and he looked as if he was laughing at the sky. Mrs. Jenkinson followed her gaze.
"Yes, that's Mr. Fitz, on the Lady Cat. I think that picture was taken shortly before Mr. Darcy became ill."
"He looks so carefree."
"Yes, he was. He had to take on too many responsibilities too early. It made him old for his age, if you know what I mean. But I must say he looks relaxed this morning. Perhaps it's the company he's keeping?" she said slyly.
Liz ducked her head, embarrassed.
"Oh, don't mind me, my dear. I'm just a nosy old lady. But I will say this. You're a lot nicer than that Caroline creature who came with him last time he was here. She was cold, that one. Made me want to put on a sweater every time I saw her. Her brother was a nice young man, though."
The tour complete, Liz walked out to the waiting car. She looked at it as if something was wrong.
"Is having the top down a problem, Liz?" asked Fitz. "Mrs. J. can lend you a scarf for your hair."
"No, that's no problem. But there's something...the steering wheel is on the wrong side."
Uncle Lewis smiled. "We drive on what you would call the 'wrong' side of the road, as they do in England."
They got in the car.
"Prepare to be terrified," said Fitz.
"I heard that!" laughed Uncle Lewis as he stepped on the gas. And with a wave to Mr. and Mrs. Jenkinson, they drove off.
Posted on Monday, 3 September 2001
Uncle Lewis pulled the car out onto North Shore Road. Despite Fitz's prediction, he actually drove quite slowly, as Bermuda's narrow roads require a low speed limit. Liz gasped when a bus went by with just inches to share.
"Not to worry, Liz! I've never hit a bus yet."
Liz laughed, "I trust you!" She looked at Fitz, who under the influence of his uncle, seemed relaxed. That carefree young man on the sailboat is in there somewhere, she thought.
"That's a pretty beach."
"Yes, that's Shelley Bay. You did say that you have your camera with you, didn't you. Would you like to stop and take a few pictures?"
"Oh, thank you! Do we have time?"
"Of course."
Uncle Lewis pulled the car over, and Liz grabbed her camera and ran down the steps to the beach. She called over her shoulder, "Aren't you coming?"
Fitz got out of the car and followed her. He paused at the top of the steps and watched Liz scamper across the beach. She took a few pictures, then kicked off her sandals, gathered up the skirt of her sundress and waded into the water.
Liz stood in ankle-deep water. She swung one leg forward and watched an arc of droplets sail over the water. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes. If only today were real, and not just part of this assignment.
Fitz watched Liz stand in the water, with her head tilted back. He ran up behind her, lifted her in his arms, and strode into deeper water. "Stop it!" she squealed, but he kept walking. "You wouldn't!" she cried. "Wouldn't I?" he replied, and tossed her into the water. Diving in after her, he surfaced at the same time she did. "I'll get you for this," she laughed, as he caught her and drew her close-
His uncle's voice broke into his dream. "Fitz? Are you going down onto the beach, or are you just going to stand here and watch her?"
"Um, what?"
"Are you OK?"
"Yeah, fine. Just enjoying the sun and daydreaming a bit."
Liz had collected her sandals and was walking back toward the stairs. Fitz called down to her, "If you're ready, let's head out to St. George's."
Traffic was picking up as tourists were making their way to various beaches and attractions. Liz was amazed at the number of motor scooters.
"There are no car rentals on Bermuda," Fitz explained, "So the tourists rent the motor bikes. Lots of locals drive them, too. Gas is very expensive here, as you might imagine. A scooter gets much better mileage than a car does."
"But they ride in shorts and short sleeves. What happens if they fall?"
"The local term for it is 'road rash,' replied Uncle Lewis. "The problem with tourists is that most of them have never ridden a motor bike before, plus they aren't used to driving on the left. Unfortunately, some of them get this image of becoming motorcycle daredevils. It's a good thing that helmets are required."
"I'm beginning to see why the cruise lines recommend that you not rent the scooters. Even so, I saw quite a few people heading toward the rental place this morning. One of them was singing 'Born to Be Wild.'"
They drove through the village of Flatts, and past the Aquarium. Near the top of a long hill, Liz noticed the Bermuda Perfumery.
"Oh! Perfume is made here? That would be a wonderful souvenir!"
"We don't have to stop here," said Fitz. "You can buy it in shops all over the island. I had planned on taking some time to do a little shopping when we get to Hamilton."
Jenkinson eased the car downhill toward the long Causeway that led to St. George's Parish.
"What's your recommendation for lunch?" Fitz asked his uncle. "I was thinking maybe the White Horse, or perhaps coming back here to the Swizzle Inn."
"That depends, sir," replied Uncle Lewis. "Are you planning to get the lady tipsy?"
"I heard that!" yelled Liz. "Just what are you up to, Fitz?"
"Hey, I never said I was trying to get you drunk. That inference is entirely my uncle's. For lunch, there are several choices. There's a nice pub on the water in St. George's, or there's a famous place on the hill back there."
"Which one is the place where you can get me drunk?"
"Well, technically, you can get drunk in any place that has a liquor license, I suppose. Let's just see how the time goes."
Uncle Lewis dropped them off at the Square in the center of St. George's and went to park the car. Fitz showed Liz the statue of Sir George Somers, the Englishman whose ship, the Sea Venture, was wrecked on Bermuda after being blown off course on its way to Virginia in the early 1600s.
"It happened during a terrible storm, and many Shakespearean scholars believe that Somers' experience was the inspiration for the play The Tempest."
"Yes, I can see Prospero in him," agreed Liz.
They walked to the wharf to see the cruise ships tied up there. Liz started to giggle.
"What?" asked Fitz.
"Look, it's the Pacific Princess. The original 'Loveboat.'"
"So it is. But why is that funny?"
"Just something Jane said before I left. It's a long story. That series was on a long time ago. She must be a pretty old ship."
"Yes, she is. But a cruise ship can have a long life if cared for properly. A lot of the cruise lines are building megaships with huge superstructures. They keep advertising 'Look at us! We have the newest and biggest ships!' But I like the older style of construction. Look at her lines. Like the Pride, the Princess here looks like a ship, not a floating apartment block."
"And does your uncle build ships or floating apartment blocks?"
At that point, Uncle Lewis caught up with them. "It's a business, so I build what the client wants. But I'm happiest when I can watch a real beauty come to life in the shipyard. And, speaking of beauties, is Austin taking care of my favorite beauty?"
"Yes, the Pride is looking very good," answered Fitz. They did a nice job on the recent refit. You didn't do that job?"
"No, we were completely booked with other projects. This new Austen ship is taking a lot of time and space at the yard."
The two men watched Liz as she walked around taking pictures. Uncle Lewis nudged Fitz and, for once, spoke softly, "Mmm, on the subject of beauties, Fitz, you've found an enchanting creature. I like this girl. Not your usual nose-in-the-air socialite type, like that orange disaster who followed you everywhere the last time you were here. Make sure you get her home number before this cruise is over. And give me her number, too. If your Aunt Cate ever dumps me ..."
Fitz laughed, "Oh, sure. As if that's ever going to happen. You two are the living definition of the phrase 'opposites attract.'"
"I know you kids like to make fun of Cate, but you all would have grown up to be a bunch of hooligans if she hadn't taught you proper manners."
"Yes, manners, posture, the importance of supporting charitable causes, how to treat household staff with respect, why you shouldn't sleep through the sermon, have I left anything out? Seriously, though, you and Aunt Cate were such a help with Gina after Mom died, and then George..."
"That's what family is for, Fitz."
Liz rejoined the men and they walked to a gallery to see the work of some local artists. With Fitz's help, Liz selected a watercolor to hang in her office. They found a gift shop, where Liz bought a few trinkets and two packages of souvenir cocktail napkins. When Fitz raised an eyebrow at the napkins, she smacked his arm with one of the packages.
"Don't laugh. I always buy cocktail napkins. I learned this from a good friend. She buys cocktail napkins whenever she's on vacation. Then, when she has guests she uses the napkins and says casually, 'Oh, yes, when I was at wherever, blah, blah, blah.' We call it vacation-dropping, like name-dropping. It's a subtle way to brag about a vacation. So now it has become a standard souvenir thing between us."
"I must tell my sister that one. She'd love it. And now it's time for lunch. Shall we test your limit for rum swizzles?"