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Authors: Kara Louise

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BOOK: Pirates and Prejudice
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Elizabeth was
not happy with the idea and decidedly expressed her opinion to her father.

It was finally
agreed upon, however, that she should be allowed to go under certain conditions.
She would travel to Brighton with the Forsters, but Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth
would send for her when they stopped in London on their return trip. It
shortened Lydia’s anticipated stay, which vexed her exceedingly, but at least
she was able to go.

The house was
much calmer when Lydia departed with the Forsters two days later.

*~*~*

Mr. Bennet
quickly made the arrangements for them to sail out of London. Elizabeth would
share a cabin with a single woman who was travelling to the Isles of Scilly with
her brother and his wife. They would be in the cabin next to theirs, while Mr.
Bennet would be travelling in a cabin down the hall with two other men.

Two days before
they were to leave, Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth bade farewell to their family and
took a carriage to London. They spent the night at the home of the Gardiners,
enjoying the company of Mrs. Bennet’s brother, his wife, and their four
children.

Early the next
morning, the household awakened to a rather bleak day. Clouds hung low in the
sky, and a light mist chilled the air.  They ate a quick breakfast and
then gathered their belongings before leaving with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who
decided to accompany Mr. Bennet and his daughter, to the wharf.

When Elizabeth
stepped out of the Gardiners’ home, she hugged her pelisse tightly about her,
bringing the hood up over her head. She and Mrs. Gardiner stepped carefully,
but quickly, over the muddied cobblestone path that took them to the waiting
carriage.

Once everyone
was seated and the carriage was making its way down the narrow road, Elizabeth
suddenly felt her heart begin to pound.

“Oh!” she said
as she put her hand over her heart. “As much as it grieves me that Aunt Viola
is not well, and that is the main reason we are making this journey, I
cannot  help but feel a good deal of excitement!” She reached out to grasp
her aunt’s hand. “Are we really doing this?”

Her father
looked over at her. “There is still time for you to change your mind,
Elizabeth. You may remain with the Gardiners if you prefer. But once you are on
that ship, they will not turn around if you suddenly decide you do not want to
go!”

Elizabeth let
out a laugh. “Father, you know me too well to suggest that I would ever
consider that.”

“I do not doubt
that at all!” he said with a laugh.

As they drew
near the river, the cry of seagulls rang in their ears and the smell of salty
seawater filled their nostrils with every breath.  When their eyes first
beheld the tall masts of the sailing ships, Elizabeth reached out and again
took her aunt’s hand. “I hope you know how much I truly wanted to go with you
to the Lake District, dearest Aunt, but I think I shall enjoy this immensely.”

Aunt Gardiner
covered Elizabeth’s hand with hers. “Trust me, Elizabeth. I know you shall. I
can readily see you skipping across the sandy beaches in your bare feet,
letting the waves lap up above your ankles, and exploring every inch of that
island. An opportunity like this does not come along often. I know that you
will have a life-changing adventure!”

C
hapter
4

Darcy awoke the next morning feeling, for the first
time in a long time, a semblance of being his old self again and was eager to
depart this appalling place! He felt grimy both inside and out, and wanted
nothing more than to have his valet give him a shave and a good scrubbing from
head to toe in a nice, hot bath. But he knew that was not possible.

He ate a barely
tolerable meal and then sat down to wait, wondering what the day would bring.

Shortly
thereafter, Edward Foster walked in and began talking with the warden. He then
followed him to Darcy’s cell. The warden opened the door and told his prisoner
he was to go with Foster.

Darcy shot a
look of surprise to Foster, who gave him a slight nod.

“Come,” Foster
said with a wave of his hand. “I have a carriage waiting for us outside.”

Foster led Darcy
out to the carriage parked directly in front. The door was open, and two men
were sitting inside. Darcy stepped in and sat across from the men. Foster spoke
to the driver and then joined them, taking the seat next to Darcy.

Darcy gave
Foster a questioning glance. “Did you tell the warden I am not Lockerly? Does
this mean I am no longer expected to portray him? Is the scheme at an end?”

“Far from it. I
shall explain, but first, Darcy, may I introduce you to the first two recruits
who shall crew your ship? This is Evans and Lindel.”

Darcy looked at
the two men and nodded, wondering where Foster had found them. Their clothes
were tattered, torn, and embedded with stains. Both the men and their clothes
most likely had not been washed in at least a month. They were unshaven, and
each sported hair that was long and curled at the napes of their necks. The
putrid smell that emanated from the two of them assaulted Darcy’s nostrils.

“You certainly
look a lot like Lockerly,” the one named Evans said in a fairly respectable
manner, which actually surprised Darcy.

“I suppose if
you look closely, you can see the difference,” Lindel replied.

“I can assure
you that I am not he,” Darcy replied. “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

When he noticed
the men scrutinize him from head to toe, he realized he should be grateful
Foster believed him.

“Well now, let
us get down to the particulars of what is going to happen,” Foster said, as if they
were going to discuss a business transaction. “As I began to plot out our
little scheme, I realized I had best inform at least some of the authorities
what we were going to do, so no one would come and arrest you again. I told the
warden you were not Archibald Lockerly, but advised him not to speak of it to
anyone. As far as everyone else knows, Lockerly was arrested last night and is
in my custody.”

“That still
leaves me with a great deal of concern that my sister and other family will
find out it was me.”

“No need to
worry,” Foster said, casually leaning back in the seat. “I told them you were
Benjamin Smith.”

Darcy started.
“Who is Benjamin Smith?”

Foster smiled.
“I have no idea, but I thought the name suited you.”

Darcy folded his
arms about his chest and let out a huff. “So I am now Fitzwilliam Darcy
portraying an unknown Benjamin Smith, who in turn is portraying the pirate
Archibald Lockerly?”

Foster paused
for a moment and then smiled. “I believe that is correct!”

“If you only
knew how much I abhor disguise of any sort!”

“Now,” Foster
continued as if he had not heard Darcy’s last words, “since there is always the
possibility that someone still might come to arrest you, thinking you are
Lockerly, I am advising the authorities that in order to prevent another case
of mistaken identity, they must make sure it is Lockerly by checking for his
scar. If anyone seeks to arrest you again, you will have to bare your chest.”

Darcy sat back
in the seat, his arms rigidly crossed in front of him. “I would hazard a guess
there are worse things one might be required to do, but I hope I shall not have
to!” He absently ran his fingers up towards his shoulder.

“It is only to
ensure the mistake is not made again.”

Darcy shook his
head. “I thank you for that. I wonder what he may have done to receive such a
scar!”

Foster nodded.
“We can only imagine, can we not? A sword fight, perhaps?”

Darcy laughed,
but there was no humour in it. “I suppose it is fortunate that I enjoy fencing
and even excel at it, but mainly in the defensive manoeuvres. Offensively, I
might not be such a proficient opponent if I was called upon to take up the
sword!”

“Remember,
Darcy, you will have my two men with you at all times! I will be in the
vicinity, keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of Lockerly or trouble
with the men who come to you. You will be safe.”

Darcy let out a
huff and combed his fingers through his hair. “I am glad you feel so confident.
I only wish I could be as certain as you seem to be!”

Evans spoke.
“Whilst we cannot completely guarantee anyone’s safety, we can certainly do
everything in our power to protect you. We will be watching out for anything
out of the ordinary – anything that may indicate that some sort of trouble
might be brewing.”

Darcy let out a
sigh. “I shall portray this Lockerly for just a week, correct?”

Foster nodded.
“We first must work with you for several days, however, to prepare you for your
role.”

“But then, if
after seven days Lockerly does not show up, I am free to go?”

Again Foster
nodded. “Of course. Are you willing to do this?”

This time it was
Darcy who gave a single, reluctant nod of his head.  He folded his hands
and placed them firmly in his lap.

Foster slapped
Darcy’s shoulder. “Good! I am glad you agree. From now on, you are no longer
Darcy. This is the last time any of us will refer to you as such. From now on,
we shall call you Lockerly.”

“I only hope I
remember to respond to that name.”

“Oh, that will
be the easy part. The next order of business, and likely to be more difficult,
is to teach you to lose your gentleman-like behaviour – your manners and
speech, for instance.”

Darcy turned
abruptly at the words. “You expect me to begin exhibiting those mannerisms that
I find so repulsive? I fear I… I cannot do that!” Darcy exclaimed, shaking his
head. He wondered how years of formal training could suddenly be erased, but
his heart began to beat fiercely as he recollected Miss Bennet’s accusation
that he was severely wanting in that area.

“Lockerly claims
to have some education, so he does have a little polish, but not to the extent
you do. When you speak, you must slur some of your words, shorten them, and use
some common slang.”

“I fear I am
ill-qualified for this,” he said, turning his head to glance out the window. “I
have not the talent to change a lifetime of formal training.”

“But ye ken do
it,” Evans said with a smile. “’Tis not too hard.”

“Jest thinks of
people whose tongue ’as offended yer ears an’ talk like ’em.” Lindel said.
“You’ll be talkin’ like a commoner in no time.”

Darcy shook his
head, recollecting many people in London who would come up to him begging…
beggin’ for money.

“I do not… I
don’t know…” Darcy said with a slight grimace.

“There you go! I
dunno is better,” Foster laughed.

They continued
to work with Darcy as they drove through London. After they had been on the
road for close to an hour, Darcy asked, “Where are we going?” Darcy cleared his
throat and tried again. “Where’re we goin’?”

Foster smiled.
“We’re almost there. We’ll be at a secluded place where we ken git ye out an’
spend some time wi’ ye workin’ more on yer speech an’ on a few other things.
Yer posture, for one. Although from what I ’eard, ye were stumbling about
fairly well the night they picked ye up.”

Darcy groaned.
“That is all behind me!” He bit his lip as he wondered whether in truth it
really was!

“Mebbe.” Foster
said softly. “But it’d do ye well to put yerself back into the frame of mind in
which ye was found that night.”

“Trust me. That
would not do me well at all,” Darcy said with a quick shake of his head.

“Well,” Foster
said, as he slapped Darcy on the shoulder, “whatever it takes to walk an’ talk
a little more like that ne'er-do-well, I would suggest ye do it! I’ll remain
wi’ ye fer jest tonight an’ then leave to find a ship, get it ready, an’ start
spreading the word ’bout Lockerly. I’ll interview any men that show up before
you do to git rid of any troublemakers. Evans an’ Lindel will stay an’ work wi’
ye fer the next three days to rid ye of yer refined manners, an’ they’ll also
instruct ye in the basics of sailin’. Then in four days we’ll meet at the
ship.”

Darcy was amazed
at how quickly and thoroughly Foster could change from talking properly to
speaking like the most uneducated ruffian. He also thought Foster looked a
little too eager, as though he thought that this was an excellent plan. Darcy,
however, had his doubts.

They rode the
remainder of the way in silence. The silence was deafening to Darcy, for in all
the talk of ridding himself of gentleman-like behaviour, Miss Bennet’s accusations
resounded loudly.

*~*~*

At length, they
pulled off the main road and came to a small house situated behind some trees.
It looked like a cottage, smaller even than the main dining room at Pemberley.

“Here we are!
Yer trainin’ –
Lockerly
– will continue ’ere.”

The carriage
door was opened and Darcy began to step out, but Foster stayed him with his
hand. “One more thing. I’ll no longer be Foster. Me new name is Forrest, an’
Evans an’ Lindel are now Ellis an’ Lansing.”

Foster did not
wait for Darcy’s response, but extended his hand for Darcy to step out and
directed him towards the house.

As Darcy walked
towards the small structure, Foster called out, “A lit’l more swagger an’ a
limp might be nice!”

Darcy tightened
his jaw and then did what Foster said. He heard the men snicker softly.

They entered the
small home, and the aroma of bread baking and some sort of meat dish greeted
them. Darcy wondered how long it had been since he had eaten a decent meal.

He was shown to
his room, and Foster turned to leave, saying, “We’ll be eatin’ in half an hour.
Clean yerself up… but only jest a little.”

The room was
small, but Darcy was grateful it was clean. The last place he had stayed –
before being thrown into a gaol cell – most likely had not been cleaned in months.
An opened satchel was on the bed, and when Darcy peered in, he saw clothing.

He was anxious
to get out of the clothes he was wearing, but when he pulled out a white shirt
with ruffles down the front and billowing sleeves, much like the sails on a ship,
he threw it back down into the satchel.

He shook his
head. “I refuse to wear this nonsense!”

He walked to the
basin and picked up the pitcher. He poured water into the basin and dipped his
hands into the cool water, bringing them up and splashing it onto his face. His
fingers ran over his stubbly beard, and again he wished for his valet’s
attention. How much he would love a bath. How much he would love – and
desperately needed – a shave.

He picked up a
towel and patted his face dry. At least that part of him felt clean. He walked
over to a mirror and braced himself for what he would see when he looked into
it.

The person who
stared back at him seemed a stranger to him. His hair was longer than was
deemed decent, just brushing his shoulders. The natural curl was flattened with
oil and grime. His beard had filled in a good deal since the last time he had
seen his reflection. His eyes were red, and dark shadows lay beneath them. His
lips were dry and cracked, and he wore a scowl. Perhaps he actually
was
turning into a pirate!

Darcy let out a
huff and sat down on the small, narrow bed. He was tempted to lie down and fall
asleep, hoping he would wake up from this nightmare. But the nightmare was not
only having to pass himself off as a pirate, but having to face the accusations
about his character that Elizabeth Bennet had attributed to him.

The dinner bell
rang.
Good!
He would push that thought aside for now and enjoy a decent
– he hoped – meal.

He walked down the
hall to the small dining room and found the three men already there. He greeted
them with a nod of his head.

“No need fer all
that formality, Lockerly,” Foster said with a smile. “Jest come in an’ sit down
wi’ the rest of us.”

“Thank you,”
Darcy replied.

“Now where’d ye
learn all yer manners, Lockerly? No need to say please an’ thank ye to us.”

Darcy sat down,
deciding he would not speak unless spoken to. He placed the cloth napkin on his
lap.

BOOK: Pirates and Prejudice
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