Morning in Meryton

by Rosepixie

A series of very short stories about characters from Pride and Prejudice in the morning. There is very little plot, but it is safe to assume that the stories all take place on the same morning, so small connections may become evident. I have no current plans to expand any of these into longer stories, but may continue to add more of them over time.

Fitzwilliam Darcy turned in his bed to look towards the window. The curtains were open, allowing him to see how beastly early it was. The sky was barely pink with the light of dawn. Much too early for visiting.

She most likely isn't even awake yet, he thought. Quickly, he pushed away thoughts of her tucked up cozily into a bed with her dark curls framing her peaceful face, her rosebud lips soft and inviting. That way lie madness.

Darcy turned away from the window again. He knew that he really should get some sleep. After the visit from his aunt in London last evening, he had almost immediately set out for Netherfield. It had been too late to reasonably begin such a journey, but he had done it anyway, unable to stay so far from the object of all his hopes for even a few hours longer.

His valet came almost silently into the room and set about refilling the pitcher of water and stirring up the fire. The man was unaware of his master watching him, assuming that Mr. Darcy was still asleep. Darcy himself kept very still, not wanting attendance or even conversation yet if it was not with her.

For months he had tried to keep his hopes strictly in check, to only allow his thoughts to dwell on her in moments of solitary contemplation, but now he could no longer reign them in. He knew that Lady Catherine's lecture had been intended to turn his head away from Elizabeth Bennet once and for all, but it had fixed her more firmly in his heart than ever. Her spirit and willingness to stand up to the formidable noblewoman, so accustomed to getting her own way in everything, only reinforced for him how perfect she was and how much he desired her as an integral part of his life. He had wanted her before, but now he physically ached for her smile, her wit, and her self-assuredness.

Darcy had fortune enough to attract a wife easily, but he knew that to ensure his own happiness and the prosperity of his household, it had to be the right wife. Mere breeding and mastery of the finer points of etiquette was not enough. She had to be able to hold her own as his partner, the mistress of his house and mother of his children. She had to be able to stand up to those, like his aunt, who may wish to dictate how she ran his household. Elizabeth could do all that and more. She also made his heart soar, his pulse race, and a smile pull at the corners of his lips at the mere thought of her. He could no longer settle for less now that he knew what might be possible.

He sighed, seeing the sky was only barely lighter than the last time he looked. The earliest that he could possibly see her was still a few hours away. Charles had been overjoyed when Fitzwilliam had confided in him late last night, but had also acknowledged that even his engagement to Jane would only permit a visit after breakfast at the earliest.

Although he had only slept a scant few hours, Darcy gave up on the hope of getting any more rest. Instead, he climbed out of bed and threw on his dressing gown. He picked up a book without even glancing at the title and threw himself onto the divan before the fireplace to attempt to read. He knew he would go mad without some distraction and until the rest of the house was about, a book would have to do.