It was a very uneventful day at Netherfield Park. In the parlor there were five people; Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Hurst. All of the residents of the room had their own private occupations. Miss Bingley was flipping through a book that she didn't want to read, and had only picked it up after Mr. Darcy started reading the prequel. She was thinking of ways to get him alone with her.
Mrs. Hurst was sitting on a chair absent-mindedly playing with her bracelets. She was wondering when Miss Bingley, her sister, would realize that Darcy wasn't ever going to propose to her, and if she kept waiting for him, that she would never marry and become an old spinster.
Mr. Hurst was fast asleep on the sofa, dreaming about food.
Mr. Bingley was nervously pacing in front of the fireplace, thinking of the beautiful lady upstairs. Jane meant everything to him, and her being sick made him mad with worry. He had scarcely spoken to anyone since she arrived, apart from her sister Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley had to almost physically restrain himself from rushing upstairs to make sure she was okay, as neither of the ladies had been seen today, and his avid imagination could only imagine that something was terribly wrong.
Mr. Darcy's thoughts were completely different from all four of his companions, but were rather similar to Mr. Bingley's. Mr. Darcy was thinking about how he had to get away from the place, and from her, before he did something he would regret, like propose. He was under the pretense of reading a book, no matter how many times he re-read the same sentence. Mr. Darcy was very confused. He had no idea what was happening to him. How could one country miss accomplish what dignified women of the Ton had been trying to do ever since he inherited Pemberley? Take Miss Bingley for example. Ever since he befriended her brother Charles six years ago, she had been chasing after him. Even if he had never met Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, he reprimanded himself, Miss Bingley wouldn't of succeeded in her quest. Apart from what the lady thought, she was not above Eliz- Miss Bennet in society. As wealthy as the Bingleys were, they were not landed gentry such as the Bennets. The thought comforted him but little. It didn't matter what Mr. Darcy wanted, he could not marry El- Miss Bennet. As much as he would like to sweep her off her feet and propose, he could not. Society had expectations from him. Being in love didn't change that.
He sighed, knowing that his attempt to read was failing miserably.
"Bingley, I think I'm going to rest now. I'm feeling rather tired."
Mr. Bingley laughed. "Darcy, it's only the tenth hour! Are you sure you are not ill?"
"Yes I am fine sir, just tired." Mr. Darcy said his goodnights to the party, and didn't notice Miss Bingley slip out behind him when he left the room. He was halfway down the hallway when he heard, "Mr. Darcy! Oh Mr. Darcy I need to speak to you."
Mr. Darcy groaned inwardly. Of course Miss Bingley had to chose now to stalk him, when all he wanted to do was think. He quickly scanned his mind for an escape plan, and saw the library doors at the end of the hallway. He heard the nasally voice coming around the corner, and ran to the door in a very ungentlemanly way. Darcy was too busy with his escape to notice, and also having a bit of fun. He hadn't actually ran anywhere since he was sixteen, and he felt completely free. Free from society, free from Miss Bingley, and free from Elizabeth and the spell she put over him.
Mr. Darcy yanked open the library doors, ran to the back, leaped over an ottoman, and ducked behind a large armchair just as Miss Bingley opened the doors. She looked around the room and frowned, and sneered at an unforeseen object, then left. Darcy let out a sigh of relief, and started laughing, leaning against the chair. He was so caught up in his amusement that he hadn't noticed a person sitting in the chair in the corner.
"Er... Mr. Darcy? Are you alright sir?" He froze and his heart started beating fast. Darcy would know that voice anywhere. He slowly turned around and saw what, or who to put it more properly, Miss Bingley had sneered at before she left. Elizabeth Bennet was sitting in a chair, legs tucked into her side, a book on her lap, and a very confused and amused expression on her face.
Darcy felt his face turn a very, very bright red as he realized that Elizabeth must of seen the whole episode of him sprinting through the library.
"Oh, um, hello Miss Bennet." He said uncomfortably. Elizabeth's expression now only held amusement and she arched her eyebrow as she said, "Pray tell me sir, why were you running through the library just now?"
Darcy wished he could sink into the floor. What would she think of his ungentlemanly display? He tried to think of a reasonable excuse but found none. He decided that the truth was the only way out, and he would have to deal with the consequences.
"Well Miss Bennet, you see, I was running." He began. After a pause Elizabeth laughed and said, "Really sir? I hadn't noticed. Pardon me, but why were you running?"
Darcy started sweating from the pressure from this beautiful woman. "Oh, right. Well we were talking, and wondering where you were, and, um..." He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Miss Bingley spoke." She waited for him to finish, and seeing that Darcy wasn't planning on speaking more, said with her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Excuse me Mr. Darcy, but I really don't understand why Miss Bingley opening her mouth would cause you to run away in terror."
Darcy had no idea what to say, so he decided to go with what had been happening before he began his book.
"Miss Bingley wasn't speaking kindly about you Miss Bennet." He said bluntly. Darcy immediately regretted it, as her expression changed from amusement to being cold and looked slightly hurt. Mr. Darcy honestly had no idea what to do, so he decided to flatter her. "I don't appreciate lies being spread about beautiful and charming young women."
She stared at him incredulously and blushed severely. Darcy felt a rush of pleasure and pride from making her happier. He then realized that he was still sitting on the floor. Darcy immediately stood up.
"Well I was just going to grab a book and leave Miss Bennet, goodnight madam."
"Goodnight Mr. Darcy." He felt Elizabeth's eyes on him as he selected his book, and was hoping that she admired him as much as he did her.
Sadly, she didn't say another word to him as he picked his book. Darcy started to leave the library but as he was going he heard a small voice behind him.
"Mr. Darcy?" His blood rushed to his head as he turned around and said eagerly, "Yes?"
Elizabeth blushed slightly but looked him in the eye as she said, "You are a very fast runner sir. Goodnight." She then stood up, walked past him, and was out the door before he could conduct a reply. So Elizabeth Bennet thought he was a good runner? Darcy looked both ways before running down the hallway and sprinting up the steps. He collapsed on his bed in his chambers and thought that running was certainly an excellent form of exercise.