Page 10 of You Willfully Misunderstand Me

Whatever the explanation, he could not ignore the fact that she had traveled there based upon an invitation connected to his family.

And therefore, in his mind, the responsibility was his.

He had no expectation that Elizabeth would look to him for assistance. Indeed, only months earlier, she had made it very clear that she wished to have no such obligation between them. Yet seeing her placed in a vulnerable position awakened a sense of duty he could not dismiss.

Darcy had once failed to make himself understood to her, and he would not now fail to ensure her safety.

***

As the evening progressed, the light outside the windows began to fade. The golden glow of the afternoon’s rays eventually gave way to the gray-blue shadows of approaching night, and the harbor, once filled with movement and conversation, gradually grew quiet.

Elizabeth became increasingly aware of the reality of their situation, being both strangers on an unfamiliar island. They had no carriage waiting, no acquaintance to receive them, and no immediate means of returning home. What had begun as an unexpected inconvenience had become something far more serious.

She glanced toward Mr. Darcy. “What were your arrangements for the evening, Mr. Darcy? Were you intending to stay at the inn, or had you other accommodations arranged?”

He looked toward her, returning from what looked to be deep thought, “Yes. I had made arrangements elsewhere. I was due to stay at a cottage of sorts,” he continued. “My great uncle purchased a small parcel of land on the island several decades ago. It has remained within the family, though I confess I have never had the opportunity to see it myself.”

“Then this journey was not entirely unexpected?” Elizabeth asked.

“No,” he replied. “The purpose of my visit was quite separate from Anne’s invitation. I have wanted to inspect the property for some time, but other obligations have always prevented me from doing so. I certainly did not anticipate discovering that my cousin had invited you here, nor that you would arrive under circumstances neither of us could explain.”

The reminder returned them both to the difficulty before them, and Elizabeth lowered her eyes.

“I believe the cottage may be suitable for one person,” he continued, “or a couple,” he added, his cheeks turning pinkish, “but I am under the impression it is not prepared for additional guests, and certainly not under these circumstances.”

Elizabeth felt a familiar discomfort at the mention of their circumstances, and is allusion to a ‘couple,’ and she felt herself flush. The word seemed to follow them everywhere since their arrival.

“I fear I have placed you in an inconvenient position, Mr. Darcy.”

His expression changed immediately, “Please do not think so, Miss Bennet.” He reinforced, “You have done nothing improper. You accepted an invitation given in good faith. The fault lies only in the unfortunate failure of arrangements.”

Elizabeth looked away, touched by the kindness of his words. Even now, when the situation was as embarrassing for him as it was for her, he did not allow her to carry the blame.

However, the practicality of his statement did little to lessen her unease. She had traveled expecting the comfort and security of Anne's household. She had never imagined that she would be determining lodging at an inn with Mr. Darcy as her only companion.

Mr. Darcy approached the innkeeper once more and inquired about available rooms. The answer was not unexpected, but it was far from ideal.

The inn within Castletown had accommodations available, though limited. A number of travelers had already taken rooms following the arrival of the Liverpool Packet, and Darcy guessed only a few spaces remained.

Elizabeth attempted to dismiss her concern, reminding herself that the circumstances were temporary. Surely, by morning, they would have answers. Surely, Anne would be found, and this entire situation would become nothing more than a strange misunderstanding.

Yet as she followed Mr. Darcy through the inn, she became aware of something else. They were being observed. It was not done openly or rudely, but she had only just begun to notice.

The innkeeper had been polite, the other guests had been courteous, yet Elizabeth knew enough of society to recognize the subtle exchanges of curiosity. A young gentleman and young lady arriving together would not go entirely unnoticed.

Mr. Darcy seemed to notice it as well. He had spent years navigating the expectations of society, and he understood better than most how quickly assumptions could form. A person's reputation could be damaged not by wrongdoing, but by appearances alone.

And Elizabeth Bennet's reputation mattered, more than anything.

"Miss Bennet," he said quietly as they stepped away from the common room, "there is a matter we must consider."

Elizabeth looked toward him, immediately sensing the seriousness in his tone, "What matter?"

He hesitated. Mr. Darcy was rarely uncertain in his speech, "Our circumstances," he said at last. "They may invite questions."

Elizabeth glanced back toward the inn, "I suppose they might."

"More than questions," he replied.