CHAPTER 5
"Of course," she said. "Though I confess, I cannot imagine what it might reveal. Anne's letter was perfectly clear." Elizabeth reached into her reticule and carefully withdrew the letter. She hesitated for only a moment before placing it upon the table between them.
Mr. Darcy accepted it with a quiet nod. "I do not doubt your understanding of it, Miss Bennet. It is only that, given the circumstances, we must consider every possibility."
His words were reasonable, but Elizabeth noticed the seriousness with which he examined the letter, unfolding it and reading silently.
At first, his expression remained unchanged, the same composed countenance he had worn throughout the journey.
But as he continued reading, she noticed subtle signs of concern.
His brow tightened slightly. His eyes paused over certain passages longer than others.
Whatever he had expected to find, the letter did not appear to provide an immediate explanation.
After several moments, he lowered the page, "May I ask when this was sent?"
"Approximately three weeks ago," Elizabeth replied.
"And did you respond immediately?" he asked in a serious tone.
"I did. I informed Anne that I would be pleased to accept her invitation and provided the expected date of my arrival."
"And, she did not acknowledge your response?"
Elizabeth paused, "No," she admitted. "But I assumed there was no need. The arrangements had already been made."
Mr. Darcy looked down at the letter again, "And your reply was sent to Rosings?"
"Yes, it was,” a silence followed.
Elizabeth felt a growing discomfort. "I feel you must find something concerning, sir. Whatever is it?"
Mr. Darcy was quiet for a moment longer before answering with a nod, "I find several things concerning."
His tone was calm, but the seriousness of his words made her sit a little straighter, "Anne's writing appears genuine," he continued. "The hand seems to be hers, but the manner of expression is so unlike her; I cannot believe the sentiments are consistent with her character."
Elizabeth felt a small measure of relief upon hearing that Mr. Darcy believed Anne had written the letter, but she was almost entirely put out at the notion that its contents were not Anne’s.
It hardly made any sense, unless… her stomach rolled again, that Anne had simply written while someone dictated on her behalf.
No, impossible. She pushed the thought out of her mind.
She looked at him carefully. "What are you thinking, Mr. Darcy?”
Mr. Darcy met her gaze, and his directness surprised her, “My cousin would not invite you here without ensuring that you were properly received. Anne may be reserved, but she is considerate. She would not knowingly place you in such an uncomfortable position."
Elizabeth considered this. Though she barely knew Anne, she had never found her to be careless or unkind.
"Then what do you think has happened?"
Mr. Darcy's expression grew more stern, "That is precisely what I am attempting to determine.
" He paused, "My difficulty is that none of the explanations are satisfactory.
If Anne and my aunt are here, why was I not informed?
If they expected your arrival, why was no one sent to meet you?
And if this invitation was intended to bring you to the island, why would they leave you without any indication of where to go? "
Elizabeth felt yet another chill of unease, "Perhaps Lady Catherine changed her plans?"
"It is possible," he replied. "But my aunt is not a woman who overlooks details of this nature."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Elizabeth almost smiled at the accuracy of his observation, "No," she agreed. "That does not sound like Lady Catherine."
For the briefest moment, Mr. Darcy's expression softened, and Elizabeth wondered whether he appreciated the shared understanding. Then the seriousness returned, "There is one other possibility," he said. Elizabeth waited, "That someone wished you to believe Anne had invited you."
The thought rebounded in Elizabeth’s mind, making her shiver, as Mr. Darcy’s statement rested poignantly between them.
Elizabeth stared, unsure how to form her statement for a moment, before stating her thoughts bluntly, "You believe the letter did not come from Anne?"
"No," he replied carefully. "I believe the letter came from Anne. But I do not yet understand why everything surrounding it appears, as if it did not."
***
The food arrived shortly afterward, briefly interrupting the conversation. However, neither of them immediately reached for their meal. The mystery before them had transformed what was meant to be a pleasant visit for Elizabeth into something far more complicated.
Elizabeth looked around the unfamiliar inn, observing the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the dusty windows, casting long shadows across the room.
The quiet murmur of strangers' conversations surrounded them, yet she felt strangely removed from it all.
Only hours earlier, she had been imagining the beauty of the island, the pleasure of Anne's company, and the novelty of a new experience.
Now, she sat in an unfamiliar place with no host awaiting her and no explanation for how she had come to be there.
A wave of embarrassment rose within her. What must others think? What must he think of me?
She had crossed the sea based upon the invitation of a woman she scarcely knew, confident that arrangements had been made on her behalf.
She had spoken of Anne's hospitality with such certainty, never once considering that she might arrive only to discover that no one expected her.
Had she been alone, she might have laughed at the absurdity of it, or perhaps concealed her discomfort behind her usual humor.
But sitting across from Mr. Darcy made the situation feel far more significant.
Of all people, why must it be him, she wondered, feeling a mixture of emotions.
Almost naturally, her thoughts drifted toward a possibility she had never allowed herself to fully consider. Had circumstances been different, this journey might have looked entirely different.
Four months earlier, she might have arrived on this very island not as a guest of Anne de Bourgh, but as Mrs. Darcy.
She might have traveled beside the man sitting across from her, not as a gentleman she had once rejected and was only beginning to understand, but as her husband.
The thought was so improbable and yet so strangely close to the present moment that Elizabeth almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
Instead, they sat across from one another in a quiet inn, bound together only by circumstance. They were not husband and wife, and yet, here he was.
Elizabeth looked toward him again. She thought that Mr. Darcy appeared as composed as ever, but she had begun to recognize the signs beneath his reserve.
His thoughts were occupied. His attention remained fixed on understanding the situation before them, not because he was obligated to do so, but because he believed himself responsible.
After all, the invitation had come from his cousin. If Anne had placed Elizabeth in this position, then Mr. Darcy seemed determined to ensure that she was not left to bear the consequences alone.
Only that morning, she had considered his unexpected presence aboard the vessel an inconvenience. She had wondered how she would endure the awkwardness of sharing a journey with the man whose declaration had once placed them both in such an uncomfortable position.
Now, she found herself profoundly grateful that he was there. And, she reflected on how his presence had turned into a curious reversal of fortune. The gentleman she had once wished to avoid had become the one person she trusted to help her find her way home.
***
When they had finished enough of their meal, Mr. Darcy rose. "If you will excuse me for a moment, Miss Bennet, I should like to make an inquiry."
Elizabeth looked up, questioningly, "An inquiry?”
"Yes," he replied. "Regarding my relatives, though… I shall endeavor to be careful."
She understood immediately. Mr. Darcy had been raised in a world where family reputation carried great weight.
To ask openly after the de Bourgh family, particularly in a place where they were strangers, risked inviting unnecessary speculation.
He would not wish to encourage gossip about his aunt or cousin, nor would he wish to make private family matters the subject of public conversation.
However, his need for answers was undeniable.
"I believe the innkeeper may know something of the families who reside nearby," he continued. "I only aim to understand whether my relatives are, in fact, on the island."
Elizabeth nodded. "Of course, Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy gave a slight inclination of his head before approaching the innkeeper, who stood behind the counter arranging several items from the day's arrivals.
"Good afternoon," Mr. Darcy began. "I hope you will forgive my inquiry. I am unfamiliar with the area and am attempting to locate a family who may be residing on the island."
The innkeeper looked up with polite curiosity, “Who is it then, sir?”
Mr. Darcy started, "I wonder if you might know whether the de Bourgh family has taken residence?" He spoke the names carefully, without assumption or expectation.
The innkeeper paused, considering. "De Bourgh, is it?" he repeated. The man shook his head. "No, sir. I cannot say that I have heard of them."
Darcy attempted to keep his composure, "Never heard of them?"
"No, sir." The innkeeper looked thoughtful but certain. "I have lived here all my life, and while I cannot claim to know every visitor who comes to the island, Castletown isn’t too large, and those names do not sound familiar."
Mr. Darcy paused. He had thought that perhaps there was a possibility that his relatives had traveled to the island, but he was dismayed to hear of their complete unfamiliarity.
"I see, it seems I have mistaken them for someone else. Thank you for your assistance," he said quietly.
The innkeeper nodded and returned to his work, while Mr. Darcy returned to the table, his expression more serious than before.
Elizabeth immediately noticed, "What did you discover?”
He looked at Elizabeth sternly, "Nothing, he is not familiar with my relatives, and is like to have heard of them, given such a small island."
Her concern deepened, "The innkeeper has never heard of the de Bourghs." Elizabeth stared at him, "Never?"
"No, Miss Bennet," he confirmed.
For a moment, neither spoke. The situation had become stranger than either of them had anticipated.
Elizabeth glanced toward the window, toward the unfamiliar streets beyond and the island that had seemed so inviting only hours before. "I confess," she said quietly, "I am beginning to wonder whether I have arrived upon the wrong island entirely."
Despite himself, a faint trace of amusement touched Mr. Darcy's expression. "I assure you, Miss Bennet, the island itself is not in question."
She smiled faintly, but the uncertainty remained. Mr. Darcy looked down at the table, his thoughts moving quickly. The letter had been genuine, as the handwriting had looked like Anne's. And yet no one appeared to know of her arrival.
Something was certainly wrong, he deduced.