Saltwater Hearts: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by Heather Hawley

Author:Heather Hawley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daisy Chain Publishing

"Captain Darcy," Bingley called out as I stepped onto the deck, his voice laced with concern. "What transpired on the shore? Are we in danger?"

"Let us speak on it come morning, Bingley," I replied, my tone more weary than I intended. "There is no danger to be found in that encampment, I assure you. Tonight, let us rest."

"Very well," he acquiesced, though the furrow between his brows spoke volumes of his unvoiced queries.

I made my way to my quarters, the weight of command heavy on my shoulders. Once inside, the stillness of the room was a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows to knees, head cradled in my hands. Sleep was an elusive mistress; her sweet embrace denied by the vivid images that played before my eyes each time I closed them.

The family on the beach, their faces etched with suffering, remained with me, haunting the quietude of my chamber. Elizabeth's courage, her compassion, it had been a thing of raw beauty amidst the ugliness of war. She had risked so much—her reputation, her safety—to aid those in need, regardless of their nationality.

"Merci, madame," the French soldier had whispered, his voice a ghostly thread weaving through my recollections. Elizabeth had merely nodded, her face a mask of resolve as she tended to the sick boy.

How could one reconcile such acts of benevolence with the strictures of duty and honor? My thoughts churned like the sea beneath a storm, seeking purchase upon some solid truth.

Miss Bennet had looked at me then, her brown eyes alight with an inner fire that both challenged and captivated. In her gaze, I had seen not an adversary but a kindred spirit, fighting her own battle against the inexorable tide of conflict.

"War makes us enemies," she had whispered into the silence of the tent, "but humanity bids us to be allies."

Miss Bennet's bravery was undeniable, and yet, I could not shake the specter of what might have been had our encounter been under different circumstances.

"Tomorrow," I whispered into the dark, promising myself the respite of sleep I knew would not come. Tomorrow I would grapple with the implications of what had passed. But for now, I would let the image of Elizabeth Bennet, a beacon of grace in a world shrouded in shadows, occupy my restless thoughts.

And so the night wore on, the ship gently rocking as if to lull me into slumber, while I lay awake, pondering the enigma that was Elizabeth—and the path that lay before us both.

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