‘Mrs Darcy, are you aware that your petticoat is six inches deep in mud?’ he asked her.

She laughed, recalling the time, almost a year ago to the day, when she had walked to Netherfield because Jane was ill and had arrived looking very bedraggled.

‘Caroline would be horrified!’ she said as she looked down at her muddy hem.

‘She was certainly horrified last year.’

‘What a sight I must have looked! You must have thought me a strange creature, to turn up at the house in all my dirt.’

‘Not at all. It is true that I thought it unnecessary for you to have walked all that way to see your sister when she had nothing but a trifling cold—yes, I really was so pompous, I must admit it—but your eyes, I distinctly remember, had been brightened by the exercise. In fact, your whole face was glowing. I don’t think I had ever seen anyone looking more lovely. I believe it was from that date I started to feel myself in some danger from you, although of course I did not admit it to myself at the time.’

‘You are determined, I see, to concentrate on my bright eyes instead of my wild appearance!’

‘Naturally! Your good qualities are under my protection, if you remember, and I have your permission to exaggerate them as much as possible.’

She laughed, remembering their exchange in the summer.

‘But if you would like to avoid the dirt in the future, there is a way to do so, if you are willing. If you would let me buy you a horse, we could ride and spare your gowns,’ said Darcy. He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I have always wondered why you don’t ride. Jane doesn’t have an aversion to horses; I remember her riding to Netherfield, but I have never seen you on horseback.’

‘I don’t have an aversion to horses, either, but riding takes so long. First of all, I have to ask for the horse and then it has to be made ready—if Papa can spare it, that is—and then it walks so slowly that I am tempted to jump off and carry it instead of letting it carry me.’

‘Ah, I see, you don’t have any objection to riding, just to inconvenience.’

‘Mr Darcy, are you teasing me? I do hope so. Otherwise, I must appear sadly spoilt.’

‘Never that,’ he said. ‘I am glad you do not object to riding. I will buy you a horse in Paris and you will see what a difference it makes to have a well-chosen mare with good paces instead of a farm horse. You will also see what a difference it makes to have an animal that is ready to go when you are, instead of one for which you have to wait; and one that can actually walk faster on its four legs than you can on your own two!’

‘Will there be anywhere to ride?’

‘Of course. What do you think the Parisians do?’ he asked her teasingly.

‘I suppose they must have somewhere to ride, it is true. Very well, you may buy me a mare and I will endeavour to find that I prefer riding to walking.’

‘But you will not be afraid to tell me if you do not.’

‘No. You know me too well to doubt that I will abuse the exercise if I have a mind to do so.’

He drew her hand through his arm and they walked on, going down the street to the harbour. It was a busy scene. There was noise and bustle everywhere as ships were loaded and unloaded, and carts brought cargo to and from the docks. Sailors lounged about if they had no ship, or shouted to each other as they worked if they were due to sail.

‘Which is our ship?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘That one,’ said Darcy, indicating a fine sailing ship. ‘The Mary Rose.’

The Mary Rose bobbed on the water, her sails furled and her rope tied securely to the mooring post. All around her was a scene of activity. Darcy’s servants were seeing to the safety of the coach, which was being hoisted on board, and the grooms were leading the horses up the gangplank and onto the ship. The animals were restive but the grooms spoke to them calmly and the animals traversed the narrow plank without mishap. Their possessions followed, the trunks being carried on board by stocky sailors, who carried them as though they were nothing.

Finally, when all was safely stowed, the Darcy entourage walked up the gangplank, all except one of the outriders who, saying that France was a heathen country, refused to go. He was paid off without delay, for the tide was ready to turn.

One of the sailors approached and offered to help Elizabeth board the ship, but she only laughed and walked confidently up the gangplank, laughing as it jostled and jolted beneath her feet. Darcy followed her and they were welcomed on board by the captain.

‘It’s a good day for sailing,’ he said. ‘We’ll have you across the channel in no time. Have you made the crossing before, Mrs Darcy?’

‘No, never,’ said Elizabeth.

‘There is nothing like being at sea. I am sure you will find it interesting.’

She looked around the deck, seeing coiled ropes and all the appurtenances of sailing, then noticed the cannon.

‘Is it usual for a packet ship to be armed?’ she asked with some apprehension.

‘It is not uncommon in these troubled times,’ he said. ‘A few modifications to the ship and a few skilled crew can make all the difference to a ship’s safety. As often as not, the very sight of them keeps everyone safe.’

‘But I thought we were at peace,’ said Elizabeth.

‘And so we are, but there’s never any telling when a foreign captain might get it into his head to forget his orders, and then there are always privateers,’ said the captain. ‘But don’t you worry. We’re not likely to meet with any trouble on our voyage. I’ll have you in France before you know it.’

‘Are there any other passengers?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘No, just you,’ said the captain. ‘I’ve had a cabin made ready for you. It has everything you’ll need on the voyage.’

The mate appeared and the Darcys followed him down to the cabin. Elizabeth found it small and cramped, although Darcy told her it was spacious by ships’ standards. It had a table and two chairs as well as two bunks, and Elizabeth was surprised to see that the furniture was all nailed down.

‘In case of storms,’ said Darcy. ‘It prevents everything from moving around.’

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully.

She did not stay below deck for long. Although the cabin was well equipped, the air was stuffy and Elizabeth knew she would be happier out in the open. They went on deck and watched the ship set sail, with the rope being cast off and the sails unfurled. The white canvas billowed out in the wind and drove the ship forward.

It was exhilarating for Elizabeth to feel the wind in her face, and she laughed as it whipped her hair free of its chignon. Darcy smiled and stroked it back, his finger tracing a searing arc across her cheek.

At his touch, the world disappeared and she was held, mesmerised, looking into his eyes. Nothing and no one else mattered. Nothing else seemed to exist.

It was only when one of the sailors bumped into her that she came out of her trance. The sailor apologised, but as she became more aware of her surroundings again, Elizabeth could see that she was in the way. She stood aside and leaned over the rail, feeling the salt spray in her face as it was thrown up by the ship, which cut its way through the waves. Darcy stood next to her, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back.

‘Have you been to France many times?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, I have; many, many times.’

There was something in his voice she did not understand and she glanced at him to find that he was looking unseeingly into the distance.

‘Were things very terrible?’ she asked, wondering what he was thinking about.

‘No, on the contrary. I haven’t been to France for some years,’ he explained. ‘When I last visited the country it was before the revolution.’

‘You must have been little more than a child, then,’ she said.

‘I was certainly younger than I am now,’ he agreed. Then, drawing his thoughts back to the present, he said, ‘You are a good sailor.’

‘Yes, I believe I am,’ said Elizabeth, ‘at least today, when the weather is fine. Although I am not very steady on my feet!’

‘It takes time to get used to the movement,’ he said. ‘Have you never been on the water at all, not even on a pleasure boat?’

‘No, we seldom went to the seaside. Mama always wanted to go. She talked constantly of Lyme and Brighton and Cromer when I was younger, but Papa was always content to stay at home. The furthest she could ever persuade him to go was to London, to visit my Aunt Gardiner and her family, except on one occasion when she told him that her nerves would benefit from some sea air.’

‘And did they?’

‘No, which is why he never took us again. He said that she had promised him once that her nerves would benefit but that it had ended in nothing and that he would not go on such a fool’s errand again!’

‘And did you never want to visit a resort?’

‘I never thought about it. There was always something new to do or see at home, so much change in the people around me, that I never thought to pine for something else. But now I think I would like to go to the seaside again. Perhaps we could all go to Ramsgate, if it would not remind Georgiana too much of her time with Wickham.’

‘I think it would be better not to go to Ramsgate, but there are plenty of other resorts we can visit.’

He told her of the places he had been to and then they turned their attention to the ships they saw around them. Some were naval vessels, some were merchantmen, and some were packet ships; some were going to England and some were going to France; some, indeed, were going further afield, being in the service of the East India Company.