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LIZZY HAD HARDLY SAT inactive on the beach, and she wasn’t likely to. Her survival depended on what they could do with the situation as much as Mr. Darcy’s... Will’s, she corrected herself. Instead of idling away her time like she was at a garden party, she started collecting materials to build two shelters.
She was in the process of arranging them when Mr. Darcy returned bearing the bark of a log full of water. He set it down carefully, and she rushed forward to slake her thirst before using a bit to wash off her face and hands. “I should very much like to go swimming in this water and get off the sticky salt feeling, Mr. Darcy.”
“Will,” he corrected. “I am certain that can be arranged. I did not see anything overtly threatening on my way to discovering it.” He looked at the pile of rocks, bark, twigs, and leaves she’d assembled. “What is all this?”
“We shall need shelters, so I was starting on them.”
He nodded. “I have a bold suggestion, Lizzy.”
She arched a brow. “What is it?”
“Rather than making two smaller shelters, I think we should combine our efforts to make a sturdier one large enough for both of us. Would you find that acceptable?”
She bit her lip, seeing the wisdom despite the impropriety. After a moment, she shrugged. “It hardly matters, does it, Will? Whether we have separate shelters or share one, we are both alone on this island. I do not think anyone will ever know.”
He nodded. “In that case, I shall get to work immediately.”
She frowned. “And I shall help you.”
He grimaced. “You should be resting.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I should be, so should you, Mr. Darcy, but our shelter shall not build itself. We must work together and hasten the process.”
He looked like he would protest, but after a moment, he nodded. “You are correct. We should combine our efforts.”
***
LIZZY ACHED ALL OVER later that evening as she laid on the sand outside the shelter they had built. It was a humble little structure, but it would do for now. Perhaps it would not survive a hurricane or strong wind and rain, but if they were here long enough to worry about it, they would fortify it further in future.
At the moment, she just wanted to rest, though she couldn’t seem to bring herself to move from the fire to enter the shelter and lie down on the leaves forming a makeshift bed. When Mr. Darcy approached and handed her a coconut, she stared at it. “I have read about these, but I have never eaten one.”
“Nor have I. I believe they are difficult to open.” He looked around at the collection of rocks they hadn’t used for the shelter, picking one with a suitably sharp edge. “I suppose we just break it open.” As he said that, he smashed the coconut on the rock. It took three good, solid hits before a crack appeared, and water started to drip out. He quickly brought it to his mouth, catching what was leaking forth.
Lizzy was mesmerized by the sight of his throat working as he swallowed, and she had the strangest urge to lean forward and lick the residue of coconut water from his chin. She blinked, shocked at the idea and the way her body was suddenly warm in a way unattributable to the fire. She cleared her throat, saying, “I take it the taste must be pleasurable?”
His gaze met hers, smoldering. “Most pleasurable. I have never tasted anything quite like it.” He handed her the cracked coconut, and Lizzy opened it the rest of the way to find there was still plenty of water inside, along with the meat. He cracked the one she’d held, and they spent the next several minutes eating and drinking in silence.
“That was most satisfying, but we must find other food sources. I suspect subsisting on coconut would not be healthy,” said Lizzy.
“Probably not. Tomorrow, I think I shall try to fashion a spear, if I can find a small enough rock with a sharp enough edge.”
She frowned. “Why do you need a spear on this island, Mr. Darcy? I believe I heard monkeys chittering earlier, but they are quick and sly. I doubt we could catch one.”
He grinned. “Likely not. I had a rather different task in mind. Have you heard of spearfishing?”
Lizzy shook her head, leaning back against the sand as he told her what he had read in a journal. She frowned with doubt. “It sounds dreadfully difficult.”
“I suppose, but what else do we have to do around here?”
She smiled. “Yes, there is that.” She barely stifled a yawn that swept over her. “I believe I am exhausted, Will.”
“As am I, Lizzy.” He stood up, coming over to offer her a hand out of the sand. When she stood up, he casually brushed sand off her nightdress. “I am surprised you did not wear your dress once we washed ashore.”
She shrugged. “It is far too heavy for the hot work we were doing, Mr. Darcy.”
“I assure you I shall be the soul of discretion and share this with no one”
She smiled. “That is assuming we ever see anyone to share it with.” With those grim words, she nodded her head to him, went a few feet into the jungle to see to her nightly needs, and then returned to slide into the shelter a short time later.
Mr. Darcy was already there, lying atop the leaves they had spread on the sand. It was certainly not the most comfortable bed, but she was too exhausted from the ordeal and the physical activity of the day to spare much thought for comfort, and she was asleep almost as soon as her eyelids closed.