Dark eyes glared at me, in the shade of such a lovely blue that it took my breath away. I'd never seen that kind of color before, kind of like the pendant the girl wore in the Titanic movie, only much, much stormier, with aggravation shining brightly like a second iris. My mouth dried up. If I was going to be reluctantly honest with myself, I'd probably never seen anyone with these kind of good looks, but go figure, the one time I did, he was glaring at me like I'd kicked his puppy and thrown it in a dumpster.
Smoky lashes framed his exquisite eyes while the low flickering lights of the room played with his paler skin. His tall frame was encased in dark dress pants and a navy dress shirt to match the color of his eyes, but it did nothing to hide the overall muscularity he carried with him.
And all of that was swallowed whole by the haughty expression he had on his face. Of course. Because there was no way he could be a replica of an Abercrombie model and be friendly too. Reality was a bitch-slap in the face, and this guy was the very epitome of that.
Whoever he was, he hadn't come alone. Next to him was another man of the same height - only this guy actually looked approachable - and maybe just not as model-like. Still, he was about ten levels above the town standard, and it was a factor I could see many of the females in the room appreciating, my sister too, in her own subtle way.
Jane's eyes met mine and she smiled slightly at being caught, her eyes crinkling warmly at the edges as they always did. Jane, was well, Jane: too sweet for her own good, with a lovely, classic face to match. She was the prettiest out of the entire female population of the town - it was something anyone would agree to, because who could deny her warm, honey colored hair and gentle green eyes? I gave it five minutes before the friendlier-looking man broke away and walked up straight toward her. She just had that kind of effect.
Fortunately, the snob with the closed-off face had someone to keep him company while his friend actually interacted with other people. The friendlier man, whose name was Bingley, as told by my best friend Charlotte, had brought his sister, Caroline along for a night of socializing and having a good time. Either he was oblivious to his sister's preferences or he just really didn't care, because Caroline Bingley looked almost more out of place than the snob, whose name I didn't really care to find out.
But that plan didn't work out, because my youngest sister Lydia nearly tripped over her own feet to give me the exciting news on the new trio. The pompous snob's name was Darcy, William Darcy, and he was from San Francisco, California. Because his clothes weren't tell-tale signs enough, I was told that he ran a multi-billion dollar company, a continuation of his deceased father's legacy. Impressive as that was, the disdainful expression was still on at full speed. I absolutely loathed people who thought they were better than others, let alone this guy who just flew off the scale by his facial expression.
"Lizzie!" I heard Jane call my name, and I turned over to see her with none other than Bingley, a small smile touching her lips.
"Hey," I shot her a soft smile as I walked over in my dress and new heels, which were making me feel quite taller than ever.
"This is Charles Bingley, Lizzie. He just moved in on Wednesday with his sister, Caroline."
Bingley grinned at me and shook my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lizzie."
"It's nice to meet you too," I smiled at him as well, noting that he was the sort of fellow everybody liked because he was just genuinely pleasant.
But because he was just too kind, he had to call his sister and the snob over so that they wouldn't be standing alone like insufferable peacocks in a sea of drab pigeons. Unfortunately, sociable, warm, and friendly as we all might be, the entire lot of the grand room could be equivalent to specks of dust, compared to the likes of them. Of course this was something that I kept tactfully to myself, knowing that my opinionated views were even less welcome to the circle than William Darcy himself.
The stupid part of it was that when we shook hands, even I couldn't deny that little jolt of electricity that passed between our fingers. He looked stunned for a quick second, as if somebody had bitch-slapped him all the way to mars and back, but the expression was quickly swallowed once again by his general air of disdain, though his jaw tightened noticeably.
During the group conversation, I ran through different scenarios in my head where he was mentally berating himself for his lack of immunity to us "common folk". It was during that exact moment when Caroline Bingley decided to ask me a question and I looked at her stupidly until she repeated it again.
"Have you lived here long, Elizabeth?" She asked, her snooty voice distinctly resembling a valley-girl accent.
"My whole life," I smiled at her sweetly, taking quiet pleasure in the horror that flashed through her eyes.
"How…quaint."
"Do you enjoy small towns, Caroline?" I let a small smile turn my lips, burning with curiosity to see how she would handle the question I already knew the answer to.
"I think it depends on the people," Darcy suddenly cut in, his deep voice sounding surprisingly…pleasant to my ears. "And if their company is tolerable or not." He briefly glanced at me and then swung his gaze around the room carelessly.
"I agree with William," Caroline added quickly. "People's attitudes are so…so vital." I had to stifle the urge to elbow Darcy at that point.
There was an awkward silence for about four seconds before Bingley broke it, smiling infectiously upon all of us. "I think this conversation's getting a little too serious for me, so if you don't mind, I think I'll snag Jane here for a little dance." Naturally, Jane blushed until she looked like a tomato with mascara on and acquiesced by placing her hand in his.
And then I was left alone with William Darcy and a Miss Caroline Bingley who looked as if she was looking for the closest exit out of the crowded room. I pitied myself far more than I pitied them.