Page 2 of You Willfully Misunderstand Me

“No, I have not,” Elizabeth handed Jane the letter.

Jane read with growing pleasure, "What a thoughtful invitation, Lizzy! Anne seems genuinely anxious for your company."

Elizabeth wore a slight frown, "So it appears."

Jane turned from the letter to look at Elizabeth, noticing the hesitancy written on her lips, "And will you accept?"

Elizabeth hesitated. Only four months had passed since her return from Kent, but they had seemed considerably longer.Longbourn, though always dear to her, suddenly felt very small, as every lane reminded her of conversations she wished to forget. She thought, perhaps a change of scene might be exactly what I need.

"I confess," she said slowly, "the prospect is exceedingly tempting. Though I can hardly pretend that Anne and I formed any great intimacy while I was in Kent. Indeed, I scarcely spoke with her beyond the ordinary courtesies one owes to a relation of a gentleman's household. We have been writing letters frequently, but I’m not sure. To arrive now as a guest in her home, particularly in so distant a place, may prove rather awkward."

Jane smiled, her expression softened by the affection she always carried for her sister. "Lizzy, you have in you the very talent for pulling people into conversation," she added, "Anne has written to you herself, has she not? She would hardly have extended such an invitation if she did not wish for your company."

Her eldest sister returned the letter to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth in turn folded the letter thoughtfully in her hands. "Perhaps you are right. It is only that I wonder what she thinks of me. We exchanged so few words in Kent that I cannot imagine she considers me a close acquaintance."

"I think Anne is merely shy," Jane replied gently. "Perhaps your letter gave her a means of expressing what she might otherwise have struggled to say. Some people are not easily drawn into conversation, but that does not mean they do not value the friendships offered to them. She may have been waiting for a reason to renew your acquaintance, and this letter has provided precisely that opportunity."

Jane looked again at the invitation with quiet amusement. "And perhaps she knows you better than you imagine. Of all the ladies she has met, she may believe you the one most likely to appreciate such a place as the Isle of Man. You have always preferred a thoughtful walk, and perhaps Anne thought such things would appeal to you."

Just as Elizabeth was about to respond, they sisters were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet's cheerful voice sounded from the hall.

"Lizzy! Jane! You will never guess whom we have seen in Meryton!"

She entered in considerable excitement, followed by Kitty and Lydia, each speaking at once.

Elizabeth slipped the letter safely into her workbasket, knowing the invitation could wait until after her mother's latest intelligence had been delivered.

What Elizabeth did not know that, at that very moment, another letter, written in a different hand and bearing a different purpose, had already set events in motion that neither she nor any member of her family could possibly foresee.

Nevertheless, before many days had passed, Elizabeth Bennet would leave England believing herself expected by her friend, Anne de Bourgh.

CHAPTER 2

The morning of their departure arrived sooner than Elizabeth had expected. Despite the many hours she had spent considering the journey, imagining the distant shores of the Isle of Man, and wondering what awaited her there, she found herself unprepared for the moment when the carriage finally departed from Longbourn.

Though Mr. Bennet had thoughtfully arranged for a manservant and Sally, their maid, to escort her to the docks, Elizabeth felt the weight of the journey ahead more keenly with each passing mile. It was not fear, exactly, but a curious mixture of uncertainty and exhilaration. The Isle of Man remained a distant and unfamiliar place, known to her only through Anne's descriptions and her own limited recollections, yet the very unfamiliarity of it stirred her imagination.

Upon arriving at the harbor, however, Elizabeth's attention shifted from the journey ahead to the activity surrounding them. The docks were alive with movement, and she watched as sailors called instructions, passengers arranged luggage, and families exchanging final farewells. Upon finding her vessel, Elizabeth felt that the boat itself appeared both impressive and intimidating.

Elizabeth had only just begun to observe the other passengers when an unexpected figure caught her attention. For a moment, she wondered whether her eyes had deceived her. “Mr. Darcy?” she said to herself, feeling every bit alarmed at his presence.

She stopped in the midst of the foot traffic, utterly astonished. Of all the people she had imagined encountering on this journey, he was the one person whose presence had never entered her thoughts. The possibility seemed too improbable, too extraordinary to be considered, and yet there he stood before her, calm, composed, and entirely at ease, engaged in conversation with another gentleman.What could he possibly be doing here?Elizabeth felt her heart palpitate.

As she looked onward, Elizabeth thought that Mr. Darcy possessed the same air of quiet confidence and reserve she had almost always observed in him. His posture was assured, his expression carefully composed, and his manner marked by the restrained civility that had long been his habit. He was as tall and smartly dressed as ever; however, Elizabeth could not help instantly recalling that there had been one occasion when that careful composure had failed him, when pride and wounded feeling had broken through the restraint he so carefully maintained. She remembered the severity of his anger, the intensity of his words, and the startling vulnerability that had appeared beneath the gentleman's practiced reserve.

It was that memory, more than anything else, that unsettled her. For, she had come to know that there was far more to him than she had once believed, and seeing him again, unexpectedly, in such a distant place, awakened feelings and questions she had thought long settled.

As though sensing that he was being observed, Mr. Darcy unconsciously turned in Elizabeth's direction. For one brief moment, the noise and movement of the harbor seemed to distract him, that is until their eyes met.

He looked again in her direction, in what Elizabeth believed was disbelief. And this time, stared at her with what looked like widening eyes.

Elizabeth immediately lowered her eyes, feeling a scarlet blush rise from her neck to her cheeks. She felt mortified.No, there is no mistaking the recognition in his expression, she thought, he had been surprised to see her standing there, though it was quickly tempered by the composure he had always been so skilled at maintaining.

Good lord, it’s Elizabeth! Darcy had almost shouted out the whole of his thoughts. He had been absolutely stunned, neigh, shocked to see the woman who had soundly rejected him months prior. The woman he could not stop thinking of; the woman who had broken his heart, Elizabeth Bennet.

He thought she looked like a nymph among the knotty crew of sailors and passengers moving around her, as her feet lay planted in the middle of the thoroughfare. Her presence invoking such a wholehearted shock that he had altogether forgotten that he had been speaking with a former acquaintance from Oxford.

Mr. Darcy's gaze remained on Elizabeth only a moment longer before he quickly offered her a bow, and returned to his speaking companion.