Page 14 of You Willfully Misunderstand Me

Mrs. Kewley appeared in the doorway just then, wiping her hands upon her apron before hurrying outside. "Oh!" she cried delightedly. "You never wrote that you'd be bringing your lady, Mr. Darcy."

"The decision was made rather suddenly," he replied with perfect calm.

"Well, then, you're doubly welcome," the elderly woman cried in delight.

Mrs. Kewley clasped Elizabeth's hands with unaffected warmth, "We've little enough excitement here, and it's a rare pleasure to receive just highly titled folk."

Elizabeth nearly looked toward Mr. Darcy, but she forced herself to smile and somehow managed a tease, “It is delightful to meet you. And, I assure you, we are not so high and mighty.”

This made the elderly woman chuckle, "We've the fire going," Mrs. Kewley continued. "And supper can be warmed in no time at all."

"Thank you, madam, that is most thoughtful," Darcy replied.

The elderly caretakers led the young couple toward the cottage, and Elizabeth became acutely aware of every movement. Should I walk beside Mr. Darcy, or slightly behind him? Would a wife naturally take her husband’s arm after a longjourney? Every ordinary action suddenly seemed to demand careful consideration. As though sensing her uncertainty, Mr. Darcy quietly slowed his pace until they walked side by side.That was a small kindness,she thought. And, Elizabeth thanked him silently with a nod.

Inside, the cottage proved unexpectedly comfortable. Exposed oak beams crossed the low ceiling, their dark timbers polished by generations of smoke and sea air. A generous hearth dominated the main room, its cheerful fire chasing away the damp chill that had settled into their clothes during the day's crossing. Shelves crowded with well-worn books lined one wall, while polished pewter, carefully tended furniture, and embroidered cushions hinted that the cottage had long been a cherished home rather than an occasional retreat. Nothing within it was grand, yet everything spoke of years of faithful use.

Mrs. Kewley wasted no time in seeing to her guests' comfort. "If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Darcy," she said with an encouraging smile, "I'll have your chamber ready in only a few moments. Fresh linens are already warming before the fire."

Elizabeth could do no more than return the smile, "Thank you. You are exceedingly kind."

"Nonsense. It is the least we can do."

Meanwhile, Mr. Kewley had already seized one of the trunks before Darcy could object. "Now then, sir, leave these to me," he declared. "I've carried heavier burdens than this over these old shoulders."

"I cannot permit you to trouble yourself," Darcy protested, reaching for the handle.

The elderly man waved away the objection. "And rob myself of the satisfaction? Certainly not." He lifted the trunk with surprising ease. "Besides, a guest ought not begin his stay by doing his host's work."

Darcy recognized the futility of further argument and inclined his head, "You are very generous."

"So my wife tells me, whenever it suits her."

Mrs. Kewley laughed from the passage, "I tell him no such thing! I merely remind him that stubbornness and generosity are cousins."

"Then I come by both honestly."

Elizabeth found herself smiling with genuine ease for perhaps the first time since arriving on the island.

"You must both be exhausted," Mr. Kewley continued as he disappeared briefly down the hall with their luggage. "Crossing the sea is weary work, even for young folk."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. "It has certainly been... eventful."

"That it has!" he said heartily upon returning. "Though we're pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Darcy. It was a brave notion, undertaking such a journey together. Not every lady would willingly venture across the Irish Sea."

Elizabeth felt her smile falter for the briefest instant. She knew her title as Mrs. Darcy was an absolute farce, and she dared not glance at Mr. Darcy. Finally, Elizabeth replied, "It has been... rather more adventurous than I anticipated," hoping her voice betrayed none of the confusion she felt.

"I'll warrant it has," Mr. Kewley replied. "Still, you'll find the Isle of Man worth every inconvenience. Once the weather clears, there is no finer place in His Majesty's dominions."

Darcy, sensing Elizabeth's discomfort, quietly guided the conversation elsewhere, "You have lived here many years, Mr. Kewley?"

"All my life. My father before me, and his father before him. We've nowhere finer to be."

Before long, Mrs. Kewley reappeared, "Everything is ready. You may settle yourselves at your leisure."

She hesitated before adding, "I've also put together a little supper. It is nothing grand, only vegetable broth, fresh bread, smoked haddock, and a bit of cheese, but a warm meal does wonders after a rough voyage."

Elizabeth's heart swelled with gratitude, food would be a welcome distraction to the prickly tension of her farce, "You have already done far more than we could possibly deserve."