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

“Fifteen forty this was built, pet. These days it’s packed out down here at Christmas, all lit by candles, a comforting gloom, and then the singing starts! Enough to raise the spirits of the dead by its beauty, it is! Oh, that it is!”

Reynolds then led them up the winding stone stairs to the Norman Chapel, where all admired its stained-glass windows, then on they went down to the Undercroft.

“Very popular, the Undie, packed out all year, this is—not surprising, being the student bar!”

On they went into the Great Hall.

“Very popular with the students, this is. It’s where they get their porridge after they’ve been out rowing on the Wear that early in the morning the mists have hardly lifted, and they come in with fingers all frozen, and blue on the nose.”

Up they went to the Tunstall Gallery.

“Very popular with the students, this is. Study bedrooms as you’ve not seen the like along here. Some of them have arrow slits for windows. Not used so much for their original purpose, of course, these days.”

Along the Tunstall Gallery, Aunt G noticed some portraits.

“Ah yes, pet,” said Reynolds. “All the important folk who helped build the castle throughout the ages, starting of course with William the Conqueror. He set it all going with a little mound in 1072.”

“I say! Come and look at this, Lizzy!” Aunt G was staring at a board at the far end of the gallery. On it were a number of photographs of young men and women.

“Isn’t that Wickham, Lizzy?”

“You know young Mr Wickham?” asked the porter, his tone changing. “Of all the students I’ve known come through these mighty walls, he is the most gormless gawk, rotten to the core, nowt good to be said of him. Expelled he was for deeds dark and dismal, which I will not repeat in front of this delicate young lassie, mind. But what his picture is still doing on our College Board of Student Officers, I do not know.”

And with that, the porter ripped the photograph of Wickham off the board, tore it into little shreds, jumped up and down on it, then kicked the little pieces into a mouse hole that he had spotted between two large stones in the wall.

“Good for nothing little…”

“Oh, but, Lizzy! Do you not know that gentleman, too?” asked Aunt G, interrupting Reynolds as she recognised the name of one of the other student officers.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” exclaimed Reynolds, immediately recovering his good humour. “Now, hinny, there’s a fine fellow. He was First Knight of the Castle last year, captain of rowing, rugby, wrestling, debating, and jousting, and the best young fellow anyone could wish to meet. Clivvor, chivalrous, fair, kind, compassionate, strong, brave, resilient, courageous, generous, wise, intelligent, bold, valiant, industrious…”

“…and do you not think him very handsome, too, Lizzy?” interjected Aunt G.

“Aye, pet!” replied Reynolds on Lizzy’s behalf. “He is a most handsome young man. All the fresher maidens here are madly in love with him, and I dare say some of the chaps, too. Whoever captures his heart will be a lucky lassie indeed.”

Lizzy, throughout, was dumbstruck. She had no idea that Darcy was at Durham, let alone University College. In all their conversations, it had never arisen. She could never apply now. He would think she was chasing him! Oh, the embarrassment! And the disappointment when she had quite lost her heart to the place.

“I think the young lady’s besotted already!” teased Reynolds.

“No! No! You are much mistaken!” replied Lizzy, her emotions in turmoil. Then another thought struck her. “When did you say the students returned?”

“Not for a week or so, pet. And then all hell lets loose, but until then, the ghosts of the past have the castle all to themselves.”

Reynolds took them down the grand staircase and out into the central courtyard. It was a most sensational place. Lizzy, her mind awhirl with what she had seen and heard, moved away from the group to gather her thoughts. As she wandered towards the portcullis, she saw a mysterious tall, dark figure outlined against the sky, walking directly towards her. When he was but twenty yards away, the light shifted, and she could make out his shape and his features at the same moment as he saw hers. Their eyes met instantly. Darcy!

It was indeed Darcy, who stopped abruptly and stared, unable to move, momentarily transfixed in surprise. Was this an apparition? A ghost of the woman who had bewitched him and whose hold over his being he had so desperately tried to fight off? He trembled.

Lizzy, but ten paces away, felt the cold hand of regret squeeze her heart. This was what she had spurned. She trembled.

A raven high up on the parapet swooped down, squawking, awakening Darcy from his momentary paralysis. He strode forward and grasped Lizzy’s pale white hand in both of his. His eyes burned into hers.

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Welcome to Durham!”

“Darcy!” Lizzy could hardly breathe. “What are you…? Why are you…? Where are you…?”

Her words faded as they were uttered. She was enfeebled in his powerful presence. He towered over her like the ancient turrets pushing to the sky behind. Her throat was constricted. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts—yet through it all, she became aware of a dampness. To her surprise, she realised Darcy was wet through, his clothes stuck to his body like limpets, revealing his fine, muscled torso as well as if he was completely naked. Lizzy was astounded and found herself unable to peel her eyes away.

“Oh, my clothes,” said Darcy, realising that the wet proximity of his body was alarming Lizzy. “Yes, I am soaked through. Completely drenched! I returned to college early to train for the rowing season and have just met with a misadventure on the river.”

“I see,” said Lizzy in barely more than a whisper.

An awkward silence followed, broken by Darcy speaking hurriedly, almost desperately, as if he had made up his mind on some important matter and must get it off his chest.

“I have friends visiting the castle tomorrow. Mr Bingley and his sisters.”

Lizzy felt the awkwardness intensify and could offer only a slight gasp in response.

“And with them comes one whom I would dearly like to make your acquaintance. My young sister, Georgiana.”

Lizzy gasped again.

“Lizzy?” Aunt G’s voice brought Lizzy back to her senses.

“This is Aunt G and Uncle G, Darcy,” exclaimed Lizzy as her uncle and aunt approached.

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Darcy, nodding. He was unable to shake hands, as he still had Lizzy’s grasped in his and seemed unwilling or unable to let go.

“Do you enjoy rowing?” Darcy enquired of Uncle G with the utmost civility and to Lizzy’s great surprise. “The college boathouse is just down there,” he continued, jerking his head in the direction of the boathouse. “It is a beautiful walk down through the trees. The path is steep, but I could lend you some stout shoes if you would do me the honour of joining me later.”

“That is most kind!” replied Uncle G, delighted.

Darcy began to shake alarmingly. His hands were icy cold upon Lizzy’s, but he seemed not to notice. His face was deathly pale.

“You look cold, sir,” said Aunt G kindly.

“Oh, yes. So I am!” Darcy’s teeth began to chatter. “I w-w-will g-g-get ch-ch-changed. Perhaps… perhaps you w-w-will join us for t-t-tea?”

“How lovely,” Uncle G thanked him, “but we have an appointment to view the cathedral.”

“O-o-of course! The c-c-cathedral. Y-y-you must! A-a masterpiece of the Romanesque… don’t miss the treasures of St… Cuth… Cuth… Cuthbert… or the m-m-monks dormitory.”

Darcy moved off stiffly, but his hands were either frozen onto Lizzy’s or he just could not let go. Luckily, Aunt G always carried a flask of sweet hot tea in case of emergencies such as these, and holding it below the conjoined hands, managed to warm them and prize them apart without as much as the smallest hint of chilblains. Freed, Darcy walked off as briskly as a frozen man can, bowing and waving as he went.