Page 21 of You Willfully Misunderstand Me

Mrs. Kewley, meanwhile, refused to allow gloomy weather to govern the temper of the cottage, "If we cannot command the sea," she declared one morning as she set a loaf of fresh bread upon the table, "we may at least command our appetites."

Her husband readily agreed, "I've never known hunger improved by worrying."

"It has improved your manners on occasion my dear, and that is the truth," she responded a bit tartly, and her husband offered the woman a wink, which, in turn, caused Mrs. Kewley to smile.

The familiar exchange drew a smile from Elizabeth before she could suppress it.

"You see?" Mrs. Kewley said triumphantly. "Mrs. Darcy agrees with me."

Elizabeth nearly corrected her, but instead, she merely smiled and accepted another slice of bread. She was becoming alarmingly accustomed to the borrowed name.

***

Breakfast was followed by whatever tasks the weather permitted. When the wind briefly relented, Darcy accompanied Mr. Kewley to inspect the outbuildings, returning with boots caked in mud and reports of fallen trees, damaged fences, and fishing boats that had broken free of their moorings.

Elizabeth remained indoors with Mrs. Kewley, whose endless occupations appeared to multiply with every passing hour. There was bread to bake, stockings to mend, herbs to dry before the hearth, and shelves to dust that scarcely seemed dusty.

She offered Mrs. Kewley assistance whenever she could, and though Mrs. Kewley protested each time that "the mistress ought not work," she accepted the help with unmistakable pleasure.

"I've always thought," she observed one afternoon as they folded freshly dried linens, "that a lady's character is easiest discovered by how she treats ordinary work."

Elizabeth laughed, "I fear you would find me sadly deficient."

"Oh, no, Mrs. Darcy," Mrs. Kewley shook her head. "A lazy person finds reasons to avoid work." She handed Elizabeth another towel, "but a useful person simply begins."

Elizabeth wondered what Lady Catherine would have thought of such philosophy.

***

The afternoons belonged to the sitting room. With little else to occupy them, the four gathered before the generous hearth while the storm continued its assault outside.

Mr. Kewley repaired fishing tackle, while Mrs. Kewley knitted, and Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy read. Though, their attempt rarely succeeded, as conversation, which had once required conscious effort, began to arise almost without invitation. Sometimes they spoke of matters that concerned the island, and sometimes books.

Mrs. Kewley possessed firm opinions upon all subjects. "I've never trusted novels," she announced one afternoon.

Elizabeth looked up from the volume in her lap, "Indeed?"

She nodded confidently, "Aye, they encourage people to expect too much."

Darcy glanced toward Elizabeth, "And what of history, Mrs. Kewley?"

"Oh, history encourages people to remember too little,” Mr. Kewley chuckled.

Mr. Kewley was quick to respond, "I've been married forty-three years and still don't know how she arrives at these conclusions."

His wife raised her eyes, looking wounded, though it was simply an affront, "You would if you listened, Mr. Kewley."

The elderly man said, turning to his wife, "You shall naught say that, for I have listened." Then, he turned to his guests, “for nye on fifty years that.”

"No, Thomas." She smiled serenely, "You merely hear."

Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy's lips twitched, and she rapidly found a smile splattered across her face. She was delighted to see Mr. Darcy’s sense of humor, though he was mindful not to show it.

***

By the second evening, another habit had been established. After supper, Mr. Kewley invariably produced a battered chessboard from the cupboard.

He looked to Mr. Darcy, "Will you indulge an old man?" Darcy accepted at once.