Chapter 12

Darcy lay quietly absorbed in thought for almost an hour after Elizabeth left his side, unable to keep from thinking about this captivating lady.

A soft, hopeless moan escaped him. How did this happen? How did she do this? Was it with some sort of feminine allurement that she had set out from the beginning to entrap him?

He thought back to those months after the carriage ride when he had first met her. He had not been able to get her out of his mind. Now, he had just spent a month with her, posing as her husband, living within the close confines of their small cabin, and he was supposed to forget her when they got off this ship? He knew there was very little chance of it. She expected him to return to England and annul this marriage when he, in all truthfulness, wished to keep it intact! In a frustrated sigh that deepened into a yawn, he stretched out his arms and began to sit up.

He grimaced in pain as he had forgotten about his sore shoulder and brought up his other hand to briskly rub it. He looked over at Elizabeth, who was still sleeping soundly in her bed. She was facing the wall, so he could only see her hair flowing down her back. He sat up and leaned against his bed, keeping a watchful eye on the sleeping maiden. Due to the storm, last night they had never put up the sheet separating their two beds, and he enjoyed the sight of Elizabeth as he gazed upon her sleeping form.

As he worked out his stiff muscles, he thought of those first few nights on the ship when she had to sleep on the floor in steerage. How did she do it? He did not think he would have been able to, as he had been pampered and spoiled all his life. She was not afraid to step out of the comfort of her world, something that he personally found exceedingly difficult!

Now he was faced with stepping into a discomfort of another kind. He knew that today would demand that he address his feelings. Today, before they reached shore, he would somehow manage to convey to her his love and admiration. He felt his chest constricting and his pulse racing just at the prospect of it.

His thoughts went back to the previous night and how Elizabeth had so graciously and selflessly tended to him. From there his thoughts carried him to their lying together during the storm, and then awaking to find her nuzzled close against him.

These recollections were most pleasant indeed, but he was seriously displeased with himself. Why did he have such fierce reactions to the thought of speaking those words to her that would clearly express his sentiment and intent? Why is the mere thought of that so difficult for me? He could be articulate about a great number of subjects. He and Elizabeth shared deep, meaningful conversations. So why did the prospect of articulating his emotions leave him feeling so inadequate and vulnerable?

He longed to sit here watching her endlessly, but he knew he must get up and leave the room, as she would want to arise in privacy. With a few quick adjustments to the clothing in which he had slept, he prepared to go aloft. He knew how he had weathered the storm; now he was curious how the ship fared.

He quietly opened the door, turning back to look one last time at Elizabeth. Then he closed it behind him.

His first stop was down the long hall to the dining area. When he came upon it, he was stunned to find some windows had broken out and water had flooded the room. Some of the tables and benches had broken loose and were now in a chaotic heap. One of the crewmen advised him that the dining area would be inaccessible until they got things cleaned up and repaired.

Slowly he walked to the deck, and as he came up, he deeply breathed in the fresh air laced with the scent of a recent rain.

He could immediately tell that the storm had waged a war with the ship last night, but in his novice opinion, it appeared as though the ship had won. He noticed several of the crew mending sails and repairing broken yardarms. For the most part, the ship had endured satisfactorily. Several men were vigorously mopping down the deck, ridding it of the excessive water. He was grateful the ship had a good crew who all seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. It was good to see that firsthand. His ship was in excellent hands.

He inquired of the whereabouts of the captain and was told that he had retreated to his cabin as soon as morning broke and he was able to assess the damage. He remained on deck throughout the night and was likely getting some rest now. By the looks of the deck, it would not be a good morning to walk, as rigging, sails, and various pieces of equipment were strewn about and sailors were attempting to make amends. The topsail, gallant sail, and a few smaller sails had been unfurled and the ship was moving along nicely. Darcy inquired as to their bearings.

“We won’t be arriving in the New World today as we hoped. We got pushed too far off course last night,” answered one of the sailors. “We are currently farther south and east than where we need to be. Prob’ly be making land early in the morning if we are lucky.”

Darcy sighed. Another night aboard the ship. That gave him a little more time to formulate the words he wanted to say to Elizabeth, along with the decision whether to acknowledge his feelings today or wait until tomorrow. Darcy took in a deep breath as he contemplated what to do.

Since he could not walk easily on deck nor go into the dining area, all he could do now was return to their room. He knocked lightly and heard a soft, “Come in.”

Walking in, he found Elizabeth sitting at the dresser brushing out her hair. She had changed from the dress she had slept in, and looked surprised to see him.

Darcy felt awkward returning before she was ready, and offered an apology. “It is quite a mess up there, Elizabeth. It would be too difficult for us to attempt to walk this morning, and even the dining room is unfit for passengers until they get some work done in there.” He walked over to the small bench and sat down.

From where he sat, he could watch Elizabeth brush out her hair, but she could not see him. He watched as she slowly and repeatedly brought the brush down through her thick, dark length of hair. Having only seen it down a couple of times, but never having had the pleasure of watching her brush it, he could not take his eyes off of her. As she deftly lifted its length up and easily pinned it into a very becoming style, Darcy was mesmerized by the sight, and noticed particularly how graceful her neckline was when she lifted her hair. The urge to walk over and gently kiss it was overpowering.

As she sat there brushing out her hair, she had been doing a great deal of contemplation about this man whom she discovered last night was her “Mr. Wright.” Those two years had probably changed him in some degree, but it was most likely in her mind that he had changed. She reasoned that the greatest factor in not recognizing him was that after she had carried about the thought of this man for months and months, even giving him a name by which to refer to him, she eventually knew she must put aside this girlish infatuation and forget about him. It was a struggle that she had a difficult time conquering, but at length, after considerable willpower and effort, she let her “Mr. Wright” go, determined to grow up and set her mind on more attainable aspirations in the area of prospective suitors.

That did not make the realization any easier. Her thoughts since awakening were mixed with the staggering recollection of his whispering the name “Caroline” as he held her in the night, and Elizabeth felt that any conversation with him today would be a struggle for her. A struggle because her heart was aching to love him and be loved by him, and because they would be arriving shortly in America and go their separate ways.

The silence between them was deafening to her ears. She struggled for anything to say. “Are we to see land shortly, do you think?” Her stomach tightened in a knot as she asked this.

“Not today, at least. The crew tells me that the storm pushed us off course. Hopefully we will reach land early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth turned back to the mirror. The tightening and tenseness grew worse as she heard his word “hopefully.” He looked forward to moving on.

Perhaps that was what she needed. Once they had gone their separate ways it might be easier. In one way she wanted it over with. Perhaps when he was out of her sight and out of her presence, she would be able to put him out of her heart and mind. But if her former association with him was any indication, she would likely not forget him any time soon.

As Elizabeth turned her attention back to making some final adjustments with her hair, Darcy pondered again, for perhaps what was close to the hundredth time, what he should say to her, how he should say it, and when. Each time he even considered it, each time he would feel the impulse to begin, his heart would beat rapidly and he would feel a shortness of breath. He did not enjoy this feeling at all, as it was something he seldom experienced. He finally resorted to picking up his book to read, deciding he would attempt this later. He simply did not have the capacity at the moment.

As things up on deck were mopped down, cleaned up, and cleared away, people began congregating in the dining room again. Everyone needed to share their experiences from the night before, and Elizabeth found that many in steerage had been terribly frightened and exceedingly seasick. The conditions down there had been dreadfully terrifying. The savage tossing of the ship, coupled with the complete darkness and crowded conditions, produced a night most would not soon forget. She went down to see if she could help, and for her own peace of mind ended up spending most of the day down there away from Darcy.

Having a good amount of time to himself that day, Darcy put that time to use reflecting on what had been the greatest struggle of his personal life in deciding to preserve his marriage to Elizabeth. As he again began applying himself to further thought about what he would say to her, the formulation of any coherent, sensible, moving sentiment was proving to become his second greatest struggle.

There was also the underlying fear of what she would say. He would be going expressly against the conditions he had set forth and that she had agreed to. And what of this Mr. Wright? Was he someone she had an understanding with back home? The thought had gnawed at him intermittently since that night she spoke the name.

All these thoughts converged upon him. Did he even have the right to do this?

He did not think he would be able to live with himself if he did not. He would tell her tonight. The fact that the decision was made gave him a great peace. The prospect of doing it did not.

***

That evening, as anticipation again mounted that they would be drawing close to the American shore, most everyone gathered in the dining area for a final night together of conversation, reminiscing about the voyage, and a gathering of cards and games. Mr. and Mrs. Jennings pleaded with the Darcys to join them as a foursome at cards for this last night. Elizabeth looked at Darcy, who surprised her in every respect by saying he would be happy to.

The four settled into a spirited, and very competitive—at least between the two men—game of cards. Elizabeth was surprised to notice a more relaxed demeanour and openness in Darcy’s behaviour. A few times he made some humorous comments, and once he even laughed without restraint. Her heart ached in believing him to be feeling a bit more relief in that he was bound to her but one more day.

The activities in the room were lively, most everyone feeling a great sense of anticipation that the morning would bring a new life for them; a better life. An occasional strong wave that lifted the boat and sent hands scrambling to hold things down reminded them also that they had all weathered the storm together with little lasting damage.

When they were in the heat of their final round, Jennings leaned back in his chair, commented to Darcy on how well he was playing, and seemed to get a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

At length he said, “Darcy, I do believe marriage agrees with you.”

Darcy’s eyes had been glued intently on his cards, and he tensed before lifting them slowly to Jennings. He could do nothing to prevent his gaze from subsequently travelling over to Elizabeth, who was looking down at her cards with a blush that had overtaken her features.

Darcy did not respond except for a somewhat forced smile. Elizabeth made every attempt to disguise the discomfort she felt and hoped that would be the end of the conversation. It was not to be.

“But then, you have certainly found yourself a lovely wife.”

Darcy saw Elizabeth’s eyes slightly close as she took in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she still did not bring them up.

“Yes, that she is.” He said it softly, all the while keeping his eyes on Elizabeth. Darcy played a card, hoping to keep the game on track, and the hand went around.

When it came to Jennings’s turn, he began to pull up a card and then paused. “You know, Darcy, when I heard that the two of you were getting married after knowing each other for such a short amount of time, I had my doubts. I was very sceptical of whether such a marriage was prudent.” He pulled out a card from his hand and laid it on the table. “But I must confess you have proven me wrong. The two of you certainly seem well suited for each other!”

That Elizabeth could barely concentrate on the game was expected, but when she saw that Darcy had played a completely worthless card and had uncharacteristically given the trick to Jennings, she realized he was just as troubled by this line of conversation as she was. Her emotions roiled within her. She finally mustered the courage to look up at Darcy’s face, which had discomfort written all across it as well. He had been rendered silent by this man, so she decided she must speak up.

“Mr. Jennings, I believe what makes a marriage successful is when the two partners completely agree on the direction they expect the marriage to go, know what each one wants out of it, and what each one is willing to give. Fitzwilliam and I are in complete agreement about this marriage in all those aspects. Is that not correct, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy met the look of challenge in Elizabeth’s eyes with a look of resignation in his. He had determined to enjoy Elizabeth’s presence tonight and approach her later about keeping their marriage intact. With these words, she was essentially reaffirming the arrangement they made almost a month ago.

“Yes, Elizabeth is right. We do agree totally on all those things.”

Jennings laughed. “Is it not amazing how Providence sometimes leads two people together, who are so right for each other, in the most unexpected way?” Darcy refrained from looking up, believing that if he looked at Elizabeth at this moment she would see in him all the depth of the feeling he had for her, laced with the despair at what he understood her to say.

Elizabeth was anxious to leave the table and any further conversation. With the ship reaching American soil sometime tonight and being in the dock by sunrise tomorrow, she did not feel it within her to maintain her composure with Jennings speaking as he was.

The game finally ended and this time Jennings took the win triumphantly. Elizabeth stood up. “If you will excuse me, I think it time to pay my respects to my friends in the room and then take my leave. Mr. and Mrs. Jennings, it has been a pleasure travelling with you and I wish you all the best.”

Darcy saw the strained look on her face and stood up with her. He turned to the others. “If you will excuse me, I will accompany my wife. Good night.”

“I certainly understand!” Jennings laughed. “I was a newlywed once myself,” he looked at his wife who suddenly was the one who blushed, “and I remember how often we would be the first to leave a social gathering.” His wink to Darcy was not missed by Elizabeth, and she quickly turned and began walking from the table without waiting for Darcy.

Walking briskly to distance herself from the present conversation, Elizabeth suddenly felt Darcy’s hand tighten around her arm. She walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings, expressed her gratitude for her friendship, gave the girls each a hug, and before she was even able to say the word, “Goodbye,” Mrs. Rawlings stood up and embraced her. The two could not hold back the tears.

“If I do not see you in the morning, Lenore, may I wish you God’s blessing.”

“And I hope and pray that you and Mr. Darcy will have a wonderful life together.”

Elizabeth smiled nervously, Darcy bowed politely, and they made their way around the room to those they had come to know well, wishing them the best in the new world.

As they turned back toward the door to finally leave, Darcy again took her arm. Naturally assuming she desired to go back to their room, he began to lead her in that direction. She stopped him. “I need some fresh air, if you do not mind.”

“Of course not. I could use some as well.” There were a few other things Darcy believed himself to need, namely some courage, perhaps some courage-producing brandy, but fresh air would suffice.

They walked up to the deck just in time to see the sun had recently set and the endless horizon was a palette of reds, oranges, and purples that met the deep blue of the darkening sky. Without speaking, they both walked to the side of the ship that looked out to the colourfully vibrant sky.

“I am sorry if Mr. Jennings’s comments made you uncomfortable back there,” Darcy said to Elizabeth. “I would not have wished for you to have been put in that position.”

“Deceptions are not always easy to live with, Mr. Darcy. I am as much a part of this deception as you are. It is not solely your fault, and you have no need to apologize.”

His hand still possessively held her arm and he closed his eyes at hearing her revert to his formal address. The two, standing side by side, turned their attention back to watch the colourful sky. Elizabeth’s heart ached at the certainty that this would be the last time they looked upon a sunset together as man and wife.

As she looked out at the sunset, her thoughts suddenly went to her father when she saw him last. His parting words to her were a reminder to thank God for each day that He had given her. She thought it odd that her father’s words were not first and foremost on her mind this evening in seeing the sunset. She was surprised that her thoughts went first to Darcy, and her father’s words and parting request were almost an afterthought.

The two settled into their customary silence as their thoughts took a more similar path than each would have conjectured. As they enjoyed watching the sky give over its light to the coming night, they were suddenly caught off guard by a random, forceful wave that rocked the boat. Elizabeth was flung against Darcy’s chest, and he reacted to the unexpected jolt by reaching out his good arm to steady Elizabeth while his injured arm grabbed the ship’s railing. He winced as his shoulder wrenched with pain, and Elizabeth pulled away.

“Is your shoulder still in pain?” she asked with candid concern.

Darcy reached over and rubbed his sore shoulder. “It is nothing serious. This is not the first time today I have been reminded about last night.”

He may not have been able to see it written on her face, but if he listened attentively, he would have been able to hear her beating heart. At the moment, it betrayed her true feelings and seemed louder than the storm that passed through last night. He may have been referring to his injury, but when he mentioned last night, her only thought went to sleeping in his arms.

They stood in silence, facing each other in the darkness, when another wave propelled Elizabeth forward. This time the force of it was just enough for Darcy to reach out with both arms and secure Elizabeth safely against him as he was pressed against the side of the boat. After the wave passed and the ship settled, he told himself that he should release her, but he found it difficult to obey what he knew was gentlemanly and proper.

With the feel of his arms now wrapped securely around her, she suddenly did not care whether it was prudent, whether she might later regret it, nor whether there was some “Caroline” waiting for him back home. She wound her arms around his back and pulled herself closer to him, all the while slowly lifting her gaze to him.

She knew she was in danger, but was without any facility to resist. His hands came up and took hold of the shawl that rested on her shoulders, adjusting it slightly and then pulling it—and Elizabeth—even closer toward him. Elizabeth felt as though time was moving exceedingly slow.

As Elizabeth was drawn up against Darcy, he slid one hand behind her neck and brought his fingers from his other hand up to her chin and lifted it up just enough to allow his lips to gently meet with hers. He was momentarily surprised that she offered no resistance. That thought, along with any other, was soon erased into oblivion as he lowered his lips to meet hers and savoured their softness against his.

As he more boldly deepened his kiss, he relished the response this woman, his wife, was displaying. Elizabeth, rendered breathless and feeling slightly askew in her equilibrium, brought her arms up to the upper part of his back, clinging to him fervently as if for her very life.

Neither was aware how long the kiss lasted, nor were they aware of passengers who strolled past them, smiling at their ardent display. Nor were they aware when the captain came up from below, quite stunned by what he saw.

Elizabeth unexpectedly sensed a change in Darcy. He tensed and purposefully brought his hands to her shoulders, drawing her away from him. She met his eyes warily, unsure of what she would see in them. In merely the light of the moon, she could make out that his eyes had narrowed, and he took in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly.

He spoke, his voice uneven and low. “Elizabeth,” he paused, steeling himself for what he knew he wanted to say, but rendered incapable of any lucid thought by his fiercely beating heart. “What I have to say… I hope you understand, Elizabeth, but I do not think…”

As Darcy struggled to put into words what he so greatly desired to tell her, the sound of someone standing nearby caught Elizabeth’s attention, and as she looked over, she saw the captain watching them. Without thinking, she pushed away from Darcy’s embrace. Nervously acknowledging the captain, she expressed a rather shaky, “Good evening,” to the one man who was aware of the extenuating circumstances surrounding their marriage. Feeling a great deal of mortification to have been found in such a state by him, and even greater distress at what she was sure Darcy was about to say, she promptly excused herself and left Darcy’s side to return to their room.

Darcy turned to follow, but the captain gave him a friendly nod and joined him at the side of the ship. As the two stood silently in the darkness, the captain finally spoke.

“It is amazing, is it not, Darcy, how a violent storm can rise up out of calm, idle waters so unexpectedly? I am always surprised, but never caught off guard. We can be travelling through what we think are tranquil waters, believing everything is going exactly as planned, heading in the exact direction we want, when in the blink of an eye, everything around us is jostled, tossed around, and completely shaken up. When it has passed, we are not at all where we thought we would be when we first set out.”

“May I ask if you are referring to the storm we had last night or might it be something else?”

The captain did not answer, but was silent for a moment.

At last he said, “I believe there may have been another unforeseen storm that came upon this voyage.” He turned and steeled his eyes at Darcy. “You know I was never in favour of this marriage between you and Miss Bennet. But I knew you well, trusted you, and I hoped that some good might come out of it.”

Darcy looked at him quizzically. “Good?”

“That perhaps you would see what a treasure Miss Bennet was and would fall in love with her.”

Darcy rested his elbows on the rail of the ship, looking out across the water.

“When did you fall in love with her, Darcy?”

Darcy closed his eyes. “I really cannot say. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.”

“But you do love her?”

“Yes, I do.”

The captain smiled, knowing that Darcy could not see him. “So what do you intend to do about it?”

The captain heard Darcy’s sigh. “I had planned to talk to her tonight. But with some things Elizabeth has recently said, I believe that she expects the marriage to be annulled when I return to England.”

“From that kiss I witnessed, I would tend to disagree.”

Darcy looked over in the direction Elizabeth had walked. “Do you really believe there is a chance she cares?”

“Darcy, all I know is that I have watched the two of you over the course of these few weeks. I believe I have not seen a couple more suited for each other, yet who are both completely oblivious to the fact.”

The captain turned to Darcy and firmly planted a hand on his shoulder. “I would do some major thinking about what you need to say to her before you go back down to your room.” He paused and inhaled wearily. “And Darcy, I beg you, do not do anything foolish!”

“Of course, Captain.”

Wendell walked away and Darcy turned back to look at the darkened sea. He had grown accustomed to the sound of the waves splashing against the boat and the wind billowing in the sails. It was comforting, but his heart still pounded from the kiss. As he contemplated going to their room and exposing the leanings of his heart to her, his heart resonated throughout his whole being.

He looked out across the sea, seeing only blackness save the crescent moon and the stars that dotted the sky. He knew the course of the ship was determined by these stars, and he wished at that moment that he could chart his own course so easily and with the confidence and the assurance that Elizabeth would return his regard.

Wrought with anxiety, he paced back and forth up on the deck for some time, compelled to rush into his room and declare his love, and yet held back by the apprehension of how she would receive it. Those little voices with whom he had argued earlier surfaced again, but this time more meekly, and he was able to rid his mind of them. He knew he could not live without her, and it was worth it to take the risk: the risk of what his family would say, what his friends would say, and most importantly, what she would say.

He lingered a while longer up on deck, rehearsing over in his mind his declaration; using every bit of concentrated effort to calm his nerves, and to recover from the effects of the kiss.

Later, when he returned to their room, he entered and found it dark. He was grateful; she would not be able to see the nervousness that relentlessly plagued him. He doubted that she was asleep, as she had only come to the room within the last half hour. He found his way to the bench in the room and sat down, but instantly stood up again, spurred to keep moving by his nerves.

He rubbed his hands together, reciting in his mind the words he wanted to say, the words that had not come to him when they were up on deck; the words he felt that as a gentleman he should have said before he ever kissed her. But even though he knew what he wanted to say, when he opened his mouth to begin his declaration of love, the words still did not come. Finally he came over and stood at the edge of her bed. With one last, concerted effort, words poured forth from his mouth, but his mind barely registered what he was saying.

“Elizabeth, in vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” There, he had said it! The rest came easier. “In declaring myself thus, I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the agreement we made three weeks ago concerning this marriage, but it cannot be helped. Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard. I am asking, Elizabeth, for your agreement to keep our marriage intact. I am asking that you relieve my suffering and consent to remain my wife, a wife not veiled in deception and lies, but in truth and love.”

Darcy was silent, waiting for Elizabeth’s response. He waited patiently, but there was no answer. He began to dread that his words upset her, that she could not answer for her anger. “Elizabeth?” He nervously called out her name. Now he was anxious for another reason. “Elizabeth?” He reached out toward her bed, found that the sheet had not been put up, and when he gently reached down, discovered she was not in her bed.

He rushed out to get a light for the oil lamps and came back in, swaying a candle around the room to make an initial inspection of it. His heart felt like a lump rising in his throat as his eyes took a quick survey throughout the room, realizing with a start that not only was she not in the room, all her things had been removed!

Darcy dug his fingers through his hair as he stared at the empty room. She must have regretted the fact that he had kissed her. Perhaps he had frightened her with this bold, impulsive action, and she felt she could no longer trust him to spend this last night in the room with him. He shook his head as his breathing deepened with distress. He began to pace about the room again, trying to decide what his course of action ought to be.

He reasoned that when she returned to the room, she must have quickly packed her things. She most likely returned to steerage to spend the last night there. He closed his eyes as his fist slammed down against the wall. Why did I overstep my bounds? What have I done? Why did I give in to my impulses before I declared my intentions?

He could not go down to steerage now. It was too late. He would have to wait until morning. They had been told that the ship would reach the coast sometime in the early morning and remain off shore until the first light, when it would enter the harbour. He would get up early and find her. He would tell her then that he loved her and wanted to keep their marriage intact.

As he looked around the room, despairing at the thought that she was gone, his eyes lit on something on the floor off in the corner. He walked over toward it and picked it up. It was the sampler Elizabeth had been working on and had finished over the course of the voyage.

He fingered the stitches and his heart ached as he read the verse on it. “Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.” Would he be able to look upon this voyage with pleasurable memories or would they eternally plague him with pain and regret? Tomorrow morning would be crucial in answering that.

Filled with remorse and distress that spread throughout the depths of him, Darcy disconsolately walked over to the dresser and pulled out a small case, opened it, and removed a decanter of brandy. He pulled out a goblet from the same case and filled it with the golden liquid. He twirled the goblet and watched it as the liquid swirled around inside. He needed something to calm his unsteady nerves, ease his pain and anxiety, and give him a sense of boldness so that tomorrow he would be able to stand before her and declare his love.

He would speak those words again tomorrow morning before they left the ship. He took a sip and savoured the burning as it went down his throat. With each sip, his heart became a little less erratic, a little less sensitive to the pain and anxiety he was feeling, and he became a little bolder in anticipating his declaration to her when the new day had come.

After downing the contents in the goblet, he poured another glass, wishing to drown those aching and exposed feelings that continued to torment him. At length he put his head down onto the table, feeling the soothing, numbing, and emboldening effects, and fell into a sound, alcohol-induced sleep.