My Cousin Darcy: A Very Sporting Adventure Sequel to Pride and Prejudice (Sofia-Elisabete Book 4) by Robin Elizabeth Kobayashi

Author:Robin Elizabeth Kobayashi [Kobayashi, Robin Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Sequels, Others POV
ISBN: 9781736786642
Google: wkfYzwEACAAJ
Amazon: 1736786628
Goodreads: 111171204
Publisher: Robin E. Kobayashi
Published: 2023-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

DOWN THE HUMBER WE WENT, its waters turbid, its salt marshes overflowed, its shores brownish-green with sward where the boys sat apart, fishing on the rising tide. The Yorkshireman dashed seaward in a swashbuckling way, capturing the attention of sailors on the keels and barges, the whalers and merchantmen. It was rightly impressive, with three masts, great white sails, deck laid with planks of English oak, immense paddle wheels on each side and a formidable smoke-stack that rose like a thick mast.

As best cabin passengers, we could wander the whole range of the spacious deck, whereas the other passengers were restricted to the forepart of the vessel. A prominent notice, written in white-chalk upon a black board, instructed them, “No Smoking Allowed Here,” but some wags had smudged out the word “No.” Everyone smoked on the fore deck, even the women. I had this feeling that Mr. Apperley was fore, not aft, the better to be buried among the commonality, where no one of his class would see him. Darcy, however, thought otherwise, that “Sir Nimrod” would not subject himself to the heat, smoke and noise of the steam engine. But to satisfy me, we searched the fore-cabin.

“How tall is he?” he asked.

“He is middling height.”

“Is he old?”

“He is neither young nor old.”

“Is he portly?”

“He is slender.”

It was nine o’clock. Stewards served breakfast to those who were not already sick from the sea. Neither my cousin nor I wanted anything. Some of the passengers in the fore-cabin feasted on fat sausages, oily cod and fried eggs, and it made me queasy to watch them. Of a sudden, a small man jumped up panic-stricken, knocking over his chair. He wheezed loudly and grasped his throat. “He’s choking!” cried a frantic steward, who thumped the man on the back several times, but it didn’t help, and no one else knew what to do.

“Turn him upside down!” someone suggested.

Cousin Darcy sprang into action, pushing past people, and tearing off his gloves. He seized this unfortunate soul, and carefully inserted his finger down the man’s throat. Passengers gasped at it. A woman fainted. For five long seconds, I anxiously held my breath as I prayed for this man, that he wouldn’t die from his breakfast.

“I have it!” Darcy finally declared, holding up the masticated sausage. “Sir, you should feel better now.”

Slowly the man recovered, no longer wheezing. The pale-faced steward expressed relief that the man hadn’t been killed by a sausage.

“You, sir, are a hero,” said the steward, with great emotion.

Darcy objected. “I am no hero. I certainly could not pass myself off as one.”

Nevertheless, the passengers gave him three cheers, the men waving their napkins, the women their handkerchiefs.

It was too much attention for my cousin, who wished to be away from the fore-deck crowd and their noise and smoke. “Let us make haste,” he urged, climbing the stairs. We strode up the starboard side. There, as far as possible from the din of the paddle wheels, we gazed at the banks of the Humber through the telescopes provided by the captain.

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