Belinda Roberts: Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard: A Tale of Tide & Prejudice

Lizzy’s astonishment was beyond expression. Despite her dislike of Darcy, she could not help to be a little flattered by such attentions. But then her anger rose.

He had made it quite clear that he liked her against his better judgement. Was this a compliment or an insult, she challenged.

“But even if my feelings had been favourable to you,” she continued, growing in fury, “do you think I could be tempted by the man who has ruined the happiness of a beloved sister, perhaps forever? And what is more, you have reduced another, Mr Wickham, to comparative poverty, withheld advantages designed for him, and deprived him of independence which was his due.”

Darcy grew pale.

“And this is your opinion of me?”

“I have no qualms in expressing my opinion. You have saved me the concern I might have felt in refusing you, if you had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”

Lizzy saw Darcy start at this and, feeling there was little more to be said, took the only course available to her and slapped him across the face. The force of her action caught Darcy off guard and he fell backwards into the water. Lizzy, not knowing what to do next, skimmed away as fast as she possibly could.

An hour later, Lizzy, now back at Little Rosings on the Rocks, found herself restless and unable to settle at any useful occupation. Her surprise at what had just passed could not be greater. Her heart and soul were in turmoil, so she resolved to indulge in air and exercise. Slipping the wooden sailing dinghy that came with Rosings on the Rocks from its mooring, she hoisted the white mainsail and jib and set sail for the open seas.

The breeze was strong, and white horses broke threateningly over the top of the waves as she left the safety of the estuary. But Lizzy was in no mood to be cautious. The more the spray threw itself over the bows, the more reckless she felt. Feelings of fury, insult, and humiliation lashed her as cruelly as the bite of the wind. It was only as she passed Prawle Point she became aware of another sailing boat coming up fast to her starboard. It cut suddenly across her bow.

“Hey, you idiot!” yelled Lizzy, when to her surprise, the boat tacked and drew up alongside her. It was Darcy!

“Miss Elizabeth!” he called.

Lizzy was furious and gybed to escape him. It was a dangerous move, and she nearly capsized, but righting the boat just in time, found he had tacked and was sailing along her port side, whereupon he handed her a bottle with a screw top, within which was a letter.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he shouted above the wind and the waves. “I have been sailing back and forth around Prawle Point some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?”

And with a slight bow, Darcy himself gybed and was soon out of sight.

With no expectation of pleasure but with the strongest curiosity, Lizzy turned into the wind and allowed the sails to flap wildly whilst she tried to extricate the said letter from the bottle. It was not an easy task, as the sea was choppy and she was constantly rocked from side to side, but Lizzy persisted, and at last she had the letter freed and in her hand. Spray caused the ink to splodge in many places, but huddling over and constantly wiping water away, she endeavoured to read through the two sheets of letter paper written quite through in a very close hand.

“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter.”

Lizzy was alarmed, and being alone at sea, found herself reading out loud those phrases that struck her most:

“I will not repeat my sentiments which were so disgusting to you. I write only to clarify the two offences you laid to my charge. Yes, Bingley was in love with your sister, but from my observations, I did not think she reciprocated, and this, combined with the ghastly behaviour of certain members of your family—sorry to offend you—encouraged me, as a friend, to discourage my friend. There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction—I did conceal from Bingley your sister’s presence in town. If I have wounded your sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done. As for Wickham…”

A sudden spray made much of what followed illegible, but enough remained for Lizzy to understand the heinous behaviour of that young gentleman. Wickham had wasted money and opportunity bestowed upon him by Darcy’s generous father. When this source of money had dried up, he planned to elope with Georgiana, Darcy’s sister, his object being the young girl’s fortune! But at the last minute, Georgiana confessed the plan to her brother, whom she looked up to as a father, and Darcy foiled the elopement, saving his sister from disaster and writing to Wickham who, seeing the game was up, left immediately!

So Wickham wanted revenge on Darcy! All along, he had tainted Darcy’s character in her eyes—in the eyes of all Salcombe society!

The final words of Darcy’s now-soggy letter swam before her eyes.

I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Oh! Oh! Oh! Lizzy scarcely knew what to think. She pulled in the mainsheet as if to gather her thoughts, but gybed instantly, then almost immediately went about in error and was in danger of being thrown into the waters. The little boat rocked and rolled on the tempestuous seas. She began with prejudice against his every word. How could he pretend that he was insensible to Jane’s feelings? That must be false! How could he find her family such an objection? And where was the apology? Only a hint of wrongdoing at concealing Jane’s existence in London. But hardly an apology. Yes, he was all pride and insolence.

Lizzy went about putting the boat onto a starboard tack, heading straight out to sea. She was in no mood to return. What mood she was in she hardly knew. The sun came out and glinted over the breaking waves. The dark clouds became rimmed with silver, and the little boat struck forth intrepidly through the waters. But where Lizzy’s mind was going she could not say. After her fury but confirmation of feelings at the first part of the letter, she found the account of Wickham filled her with astonishment, apprehension, even horror. She thought back of her times with Wickham and blushed at her own forwardness, her own fondness, his impropriety—yes impropriety—at discussing Darcy’s faults so freely with her aunt, then a stranger to him. Oh! And what of Mary King? Of course, the pink-hulled speedboat. Despite the cold wind, Lizzy felt herself redden at the thought of any affection she had had with Wickham. She had been well and truly duped.

But what then of Darcy? Perhaps… she reread the letter again. Charlotte’s words rang in her ears that Jane should not be too secretive about her affections. How she had teased her friend then, but perhaps, after all, Lottie had been right. Jane was in danger of losing the man she loved by disguising her feelings too well. As for the comments about her family—she blushed at the outrageous behaviour at the Estuary Swim. It was a ghastly exhibition. Her mind rambled on over the events of the summer since first meeting Darcy and Bingley. Each memory of each encounter caused her excruciating embarrassment and an immediate wish to expunge all recollection of her behaviour towards Darcy. Physical exertion seemed her only immediate escape. She pulled in the jib, jamming its sheet into its clamp, and heaved in the mainsheet as tightly as possible, forcing the boat to keel over, and pushing herself out on the gunnels, leaning right back over the waters to prevent capsizing. In this manner, she battled fiercely with the waves, the wind, and her feelings until she felt able to return to Little Rosings on the Rocks and appear cheerful as usual.