“I’ve neglected my duties as hostess, let me serve tea and coffee to your guests.”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth, with perfect decorum, poured tea or coffee to the gentlemen, ascertaining their preference for sugar, cream or lemon. Her smile, which was always engaging, did not reach her eyes. He noticed her lips were often pursed,though none of the men appeared to detect her discomfort. About to approach her, he was accosted by one of the ships’ captains.
“Monsieur, you are the judge-advocate, n’est-ce pas?” Darcy winced. The captain’s French, though fluent, was rather harsh—certainly, he was raised where some rural dialect was spoken, and not the standard French Darcy had been taught.
“You are correct, Monsieur, I have that honour. You are captain of which ship?”
“L’Alliance, American flagged, out of Delaware. We intend to trade with Canton—this is a new route, out of season.”
“You are American, but you speak French?”
“I fledla Franceduring the Terror. Napoleon has restored some order; I may return, but his wars are foolhardy, and will only lead to more misery and death. I dislike tyrants—I much prefer the American republic to the French Napoleon and the British tyrant, George.”
Darcy bristled, “I caution you, Monsieur, you’re in a British colony. All here swear allegiance to the Crown. And what difference is there between America’srepublicand Britain’sParliamentary monarchy? Your president, James Madison, is naught but an elective King, who has more chance of becoming a tyrant under the American constitution than His Majesty, George III, who rules by invitation of the people followingThe Restoration.Madison rules only by the pleasure of a select wealthy minority.”
“But here, in New Holland, surely Governor Macquarie is anAutocrat, who holds supreme power over the persons of the colony? Does he not have the 73rd Regiment to do his bidding?”
Darcy laughed. “Monsieur, you have no understanding of how Britain rules from afar. The 73rd is under the command of Colonel O’Connell, who reports to the Secretary of War; the governor reports separately to the government inLondon. Perhaps, if you wish to promote subversion, you are correct in speaking with me. Macquarie himself cannot withdraw my commission. I’m a civilian and do not answer to O’Connell. Here, as judge-advocate, my wordisthe law.”
Their discourse continued, the captain remonstrating with Darcy, confident that his American republicanism was superior to all other forms of government. Darcy, tired of the interchange, displayed some rudeness by looking towards Elizabeth. The captain followed his gaze.
“La femme de Monsieur Lord, c'est une beauté, vous ne pensez pas?”
“You are mistaken, she’s not Lord’s wife.”
“Ah, she is his mistress!”
Darcy’s face reddened, but before he could respond, Elizabeth made her way towards them. He had seen that look before at St. Albans; she smiled but underneath she was seething with anger, barely managing to speak with any self-possession.
“Mr. Darcy,” said she, her French faultless, “can you introduce me to the capitaine?”
“Certainly, Madame, may I introduce Monsieur Outhier, Capitaine de l’Alliance. Monsieur, this is Madame…”
Elizabeth interrupted. “I’m sure, Monsieur, we do not need formal introductions. You have already tagged me asmistressto this house. I can assure you, that is far from the truth.” She turned to Darcy, “Monsieur Darcy, I’m fatigued—I would have you accompany me home, s’il vous plaît.”
“Certainement, Madame, ce serait avec plaisir.”
Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm, made their thanks to Simeon Lord for a pleasant evening, exited the house and then walked down Bridge Street towards the main street of the town.
“Hold me, William. I’ll speak with equanimity in a few moments. Nevertheless, I must apologise for displaying my ill-humour—such was poorly done of me.”
“Ma cherie, dearest Lizzie, I perceived your upset before Capitaine Outhier’s ill-spoken comments. What distresses you so—is there nothing I can do?”
“Outhier is merely French, with an ego larger than his manhood.” She gasped, “Oh, William, I’m in such vile temper—it does not befit the wife of the judge-advocate!”
“’Tis forgot. But you haven’t answered my question.”
“It’s Senhora Ruiz. She’s near her time, though being of large frame, it doesn’t show. Her husband wishes to depart, he claims that staying for the birthing will cost him much money. I examined her, as far as possible in so short a time. The babe doesn’t sit well, and were she to begin her travail, she’ll endure much pain. The child and she could die. William, if you could but delay his departure; but for how long, I cannot say.”
“My Lizzie, there’s naught I can do. He has paid the customs duties, there are no convicts smuggled aboard the vessel.”
Elizabeth was inconsolable. “Oh to God that you were a tyrant, then you could save her. But no! that way lies anarchy.”
***
TheHarmonia do Culweighed anchor the next morning and made its way to the Heads. But there, a strong tide and southeasterly gale made it impossible to navigate the passage safely. Captain Ruiz was forced to anchor and wait for more favourable conditions. Large swells rolled in from the Pacific Ocean, the heavy seas threatening to dash the ship upon the towering sandstone cliffs. Abruptly the topgallant yard gave way, tangling the rigging. There was nothing he could do—his return to Sydney Cove constituted less risk than continuing the journey. The vessel was gone some two days before the residents of the town saw it back in port.
“Mrs. Darcy!” A soldier, from the flagstaff at GovernmentHouse, pushed past Sgt. Monogan and entered her office at the orphanage. “We’ve a signal from theHarmonia do Cul,the ship of Captain Ruiz.You’re required urgently on board.”
