A/N- This story is for QOP who requested for a Darcy/Mary pairing. And even though I usually write only Darcy/Elizabeth, some sort of inspiration struck and now here I am writing this tale. If you don't read this because of the pairing, I'll totally understand but if be glad if you give it a try anyway. You might surprise yourself. Hope you enjoy! This chapter takes place during the Netherfield ball.
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth leave after their dance together, and felt something like anger and indignation develop within him. There was no doubt anymore that she had every intention to cause him distress, for had she been in any way interested in facts she would have asked not attacked. He had admired her, and still thought that she was very witty, still thought her eyes were uncommonly pretty, and yet he realised that he could not possibly be friendly with someone who was always so blinded by prejudice.
He knew that his first impression had been left wanting. He knew that Wickham could be charming. He remembered what had nearly happened to his own sister by that man, and Georgiana was a very sensible young lady who was usually rather hard to take in.
But when she had been charmed by George Wickham, her circumstances had been very different. She had only just come to terms with her father's death, was very young, and her companion Mrs Younge who was in league with Wickham, had given her bad advice. Besides, she remembered only the boy she had known years ago, and had no reason to not think highly of him. She didn't see him as a stranger, only as an old acquaintance, for she had a rather friendly though shy disposition.
But Miss Elizabeth? She had no such excuse. She was much older than Georgiana had been. She hadn't had to undergo the emotional upheaval Georgiana had. No one was trying to fill her ears with wrong advice. She didn't remember the boy Wickham had been before his true nature was revealed. She had no reason to trust Wickham over himself, apart from his friendlier disposition, and while that might be cause for temporarily believing that man, her presumption and attack of him were uncalled for.
And Darcy had no good opinion of her anymore.
He knew perfectly well that no sensible woman should be so quick to judge, and was now convinced that she had no more sense than the rest of her silly family, none of whom were actually silly enough to behave as she had. Never more was he more certain that light and pleasing figures are no guarantee of good sense, any more than dazzling eyes are. He had never been angrier at anyone save Wickham before, and now wanted to tell Miss Elizabeth exactly what he thought of her.
He followed the direction in which she had left, his angry strides carrying him to her far faster than anyone could have imagined, and then he saw her and would've followed her had he not been waylaid by dinner.
He ate in silence, and could distinctly hear Mrs Bennet's remarks that definitely warranted embarassment. He was getting more and more sick of the family every second, and made a mental note to tell Charles to get away from Miss Bennet and stop pursuing her. She might be better than the rest of the family, but the apple never falls far from the tree and Darcy did not wish his friend to be snagged my a fortune hunter.
Anyhow, his anger had calmed a bit by end of dinner. But he was still certain that he wished to enlighten her about her silliness, and vent his anger, every bit of which she deserved.
He saw her after a few minutes, looking as though she was about to die of embarrassment. Looking around, he quickly guessed the cause of her distress.
Her younger sister.
Miss Mary.
Who was singing perfectly well in his opinion.
He saw her signal to Mr Bennet, and wondered how he could have ever thought her a pleasing young lady, especially when he heard what the father had to say.
'That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.', said Mr Benet aloud, and though Mary pretended not to hear, it was obvious to Mr Darcy that she was rather hurt.
Anger welled within him once more. It was true that Miss Mary's voice was not suited for such a display, but to point it out this way was cruel. He was certain that the only sensible Bennet sister was doing all she did mostly for the sake of having someone care about her, having someone who noticed, and maybe acknowledged her existence. He saw clearly how neglected she was by her family that wasn't worthy of the name, and how different she was from them. He felt admiration for her rise, as it had been rising ever since they were acquainted, and applauded her as the song came to an end.
He felt Miss Elizabeth's questioning eyes on himself, but ignored her thoroughly.
His eyes met Miss Mary's. They were brown, he noted to himself.
Those eyes drew him in. They were very different from his sister's startling green ones. They were warm and inviting, and put a person at their ease. Their uncertainty only made them more appealing. Darcy could have stared into them forever, but she turned away hesitantly.
All angry thoughts banished, he followed her, wishing to tell her how well she had done. Her voice might have been weak and her manners affected, but Darcy saw the fears she was trying to cover, and there was no sweeter voice to him than hers.
Before he knew what he was doing, his feet has him standing before her.
A/N- Whew! Hope you liked it QOP, and all other wonderful readers. Keep reviewing folks, it would really delight me.