It was a hot and humid summer in Meryton, Alabama, and Fitzwilliam Darcy was no more excited to be there than Elizabeth Bennet. He had despised Meryton all his life. He lived in Meryton from his birth until the age of eighteen, never quite understanding why his father would choose such a dreadfully boring place for the headquarters of his corporation. Now, at twenty-eight and as the new CEO of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy comprehended and appreciated the reasoning behind his father's decision: Meryton afforded the ideal headquarters. The tax rate was low, the labor was cheap, and the entire town was completely dependent on Pemberley for its well-being. What could be better conditions for a flourishing business? Yes, now Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy appreciated Meryton for what it was. But as a schoolboy, he absolutely abhorred the town. He felt that everything and everyone there was far beneath him. He saw the way the inhabitants of Meryton, Alabama fawned over his entire family; he observed the shallowness of this fawning, and grew resentful and cynical. He had absolutely no respect for his neighbors and classmates; he labeled them all as incompetent fawning fools, and never attempted to know anyone better.
By the time he reached high school, Fitzwilliam Darcy did his best to enjoy his position of power, and amused himself by playing with the town's girls' insincere affections. He viewed them as shallow, liking him only for his stellar good looks and monumental fortune, and he had no scruples about leading them on and then cruelly scorning them. It came easy to him, and was almost a hobby. All the girls were ready to sleep with him, a few were pretty enough for him to take them for a one-night-stand, but most did not even make it that far. By the time he left Meryton to attend Harvard University at the age of eighteen, Fitzwilliam Darcy was a fairly well-educated man eager to learn and to see, yet he was disturbingly haughty, reserved, and self-indulgent.
His years at Harvard passed pleasantly, and with a vigor he had never displayed before, Fitzwilliam immersed himself in his studies, taking in everything that the university had to offer, as if making up for the years he had wasted away in the boring town of Meryton, Alabama. After obtaining his undergraduate degree, Fitzwilliam insisted (much to his father's disapprobation) on traveling to England and pursuing his passion for philosophy at Oxford. After completing his PhD, he blissfully traveled through Europe, until his father's heart attack and the subsequent deteriorating health and death forced him to return to Meryton for good – to run the family company.
Resentful to be back in this boring hole of a town, Fitzwilliam Darcy took to the only activity he had to distract him, the management of Pemberley Corp, with a fanatical vigor. Within a quarter, he produced record profits, and was almost beginning to enjoy his new profession.
It was actually a pleasant, breezy day in late June, and Fitzwilliam did something he rarely did over the past few months – he went out of the office for lunch. As he enjoyed his stroll through Meryton's quiet streets, his eyes caught a sight of two young women chatting amicably at a quaint café. One of them he recognized immediately; the other was facing away from him, and he could only see her fantastic chestnut curls. With a slight smile, Fitzwilliam made his way towards the girls, happy to see his little sister.
Georgiana Darcy was enjoying an iced coffee with her new friend. They had met an hour earlier, when Georgiana stopped a pretty girl on the street to enquire about the location of Meryton's library. It turned out that the girl was walking there as well, and offered to walk Georgiana to the building.
"What a lovely town!" Georgiana exclaimed with a bright smile. The weather was nice, the street was filled with sunrays, and Georgiana's mood was equally bright.
The other girl smirked. "Truly? How long have you been here? A day, two at most, I would wager."
Georgiana faltered for a moment. "Actually, I was born here."
Her companion eyed her with a puzzled expression. "I cannot believe that anyone who has ever lived here could find this town anything but boring. I dare say you must have been away most of your life…"
Georgiana was surprised at the correctness of the girl's guess. "Well, yes," she admitted with a blush, "I have lived with my grandparents since I was six." She hesitated before elaborating, "since my mother died." At this, her companion attempted to express her condolences, but Georgiana quickly continued, "and I have been at boarding school since 14."
"I am sorry," was all her companion said, with a light comforting smile and a genuine expression of compassion in her eyes.
"I was fine." There was a brief silence, before Georgiana continued, stepping away from the uncomfortable subject: "Dut really, why do you find this town so unpleasant? I think it is quite lovely!"
"It is boring," the other girl replied simply. "Boring people, working boring jobs at a boring company." She added resentfully, "I hate Pemberley!"
At this, Georgiana cringed slightly, but quickly composed herself and replied: "I think it is quite nice that everyone works at the same place. People work together, live together, have fun together. It's so… cozy! Like one big family."
Seeing Georgiana's wistful smile, her companion realized that the image Georgiana was creating was that of a family she never had. Her companion felt a surge of compassion and warmth towards Georgiana, and exclaimed pleasantly:
"How silly of us, we never introduced ourselves! I am Elizabeth; Elizabeth Bennet. But please call me Lizzy," and she extended her hand in an offer of friendship.
"Georgiana," the other girl replied, and after a momentary uncomfortable silence, added: "Georgiana Graham." She was not sure what possessed her to pronounce this invented name; perhaps Lizzy's evident dislike of Pemberley made her apprehensive of proclaiming herself a Darcy.
"It is a pleasure meeting you, Georgiana," Elizabeth smiled widely, "and do you have a nickname too?"
"Oh yes," Georgiana flushed. "Please call me Giana."
The girls reached the library at this point, and went looking for their books. They quickly discovered that they shared an avid interest in European history, and fell into easy conversation. An hour later, they were comfortably seated in a quaint little café, passionately discussing Napoleonic Wars.
"Georgie!" Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by Fitzwilliam Darcy, who came to greet his sister.
"William! What takes you out of the office?" Georgiana smiled, stood, and pecked her brother on the cheek. "Let me introduce you to my new friend. Will, this is Elizabeth, Elizabeth, this is my brother Wi-"
She stopped abruptly, noticing the looks exchanged between her brother and her new friend. While William was looking at Lizzy with shock, Georgiana's knowing eyes detected that the shock was by no means unpleasant, and that there was something else in her brother's eyes – such intensity, such excitement. Lizzy, on the other hand, regarded William with what would best be described as horror.
"Elizabeth, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. I am honored to finally learn your name." William recovered his countenance first, and spoke with happiness in his voice and a seductive smirk on his lips. Elizabeth was surprised to notice a very slight British accent in his deep, velvety voice; undeniably a vestige of his time at Oxford.
Lizzy looked at him for a moment, then said simply, "Excuse me, it is getting late," and swiftly walked away.
William made a move to follow her, but was stopped by his sister's voice.
"Do you know her, Will?"
"No." There was a wistful note in his voice.
Georgiana smiled. "But you wish you did."
William looked at her for a long time, then slowly nodded his head.
"What is her full name?" He asked at last.
"Elizabeth Bennet. And I admire your taste, brother. She is quite enchanting. I have never had such lively conversation, not even at school." At this, she smiled at her brother, who took his leave shortly thereafter, to return to work.
Once he was back at his spacious office, Fitzwilliam Darcy could not stop thinking about Elizabeth Bennet. He had thought of her frequently over the past year, but back then it was thinking about a lovely girl with passionate eyes, smirking lips, and chestnut curls. Now he thought about Elizabeth Bennet. He finally knew her name; that was a start.
Fitzwilliam let out a frustrated sigh. Over the previous year, he never managed to understand why he was so captivated by the girl, and why the captivation lasted so long. He had never felt that way before, and it was unnerving. He tried telling himself that she was from Meryton, for God's self, and reminded himself of all the other Meryton girls, all of whom he could have any moment and none of whom he really wanted. He repeated that she was just like all the others, yet he could never believe it, not after seeing those eyes. She was gorgeous and passionate, captivating and enchanting. He had seen her only once, a year ago, yet he could not forget her; every once in a while, he desired desperately her presence, and hated himself ardently for that desire.
And now he finally learned her name. He saw her again, and she was just as lovely as the previous time. No, lovelier: the way she talked with his sister, the way she smiled, was simply irresistible.
Impulsively, Fitzwilliam entered the name Bennet into his system. He knew that everyone – absolutely everyone – in that little town was connected to Pemberley. And sure enough, he had a head engineer named Thomas Bennet. Fitzwilliam smiled, and scribbled down the home address displayed next to Mr. Bennet's name. He then remembered about the approaching soiree, and checked the list of invitees. His smile widened. Thomas Bennet had been invited, and had RSVPed his attendance along with six guests. Six! God, that's a large family. Yet she was one of the six – she must be. She would be there. Fitzwilliam Darcy let out a deep sigh of relief, and let himself drift into exquisite daydreams.