Please excuse this very short and extremely silly little story. It is so trivial that it was hardly worth posting, but it made me giggle, so I thought it might do the same for someone else. I mainly write North and South fanfic, but I've been dabbling a bit lately with super-short Austen stories, and this one below was part of a creative writing exercise I posted for people on my writing Facebook page. Anyway, this was written in about 10 mins, it is simple, it is nonsense, it has a sprightly modern vibe, and it will forever pollute the shades of Pemberley, but never mind, I am sure dear Jane will forgive me, hehe.
"DAMN HER AND HER FINE EYES!"
Or perhaps a more accurate title would be:
CAROLINE, A COFFEE CUP, AND AN INFURIATINGLY CHEERFUL CHARLES
Caroline Bingley was sitting at the breakfast table in her London home, nibbling at a corner of dry toast, and listening to the harried hum of the busy thoroughfare outside, relieved that she no longer had to suffer the sound of those horrid little birds chirping away in the trees which seemed to grow around Netherfield Park with audacious insolence, almost as if they had some sort of right to be there. Ugh! Nature! Was there anything more unnatural?
As Caroline dabbed at her mouth to remove the smears of jam, she thought on what she ought to do with her day, her time being a most precious commodity which should only be dedicated to the most refined pursuits. Perhaps she should go shopping. Perhaps she should take a drive in the park. Perhaps she should attend a luncheon and spread some spiteful tittle-tattle. Or best of all, perhaps she should simply recline on her silken settee and think about the handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy and his mounds of marvellous money.
Cue breathy sigh.
As she thought this most deliciously delightful thought, her quixotic musings were interrupted as the door opened and her brother marched right on in.
Caroline's giddy grin flopped into a frown. 'Good morning Charles,' she nipped, doing her best to perfect her pitch so that it sounded as peeved as possible, a proficient art which any finishing school worth its salt would teach a respectable young lady, and needless to say, Caroline Bingley was the very best there ever was at spouting out a sarcastic and sneering jibe.
However, much to her dissatisfaction, her brother was not the least bit perturbed by her artful attempt at rudeness, and as she looked up, a disgruntled Caroline discerned the sparkle in his annoying eyes, his cheeks pink and plump, just like a baby's bottom.
With her flawless skin turning scarlet in provocation, Caroline scowled, and if one listened carefully, then one would swear that she snarled too.
'What is the matter with you?' she bit out with a wasp like sting, sipping her coffee and swirling the tart brew around in her malicious mouth. Caroline was never happy with her brother at the best of times, but she had made a vow to permanently dislike him - no, wait, detest him, - ever since he had become engaged to that Bennet creature and thus degraded the Bingley name by association.
As Charles strolled back and forth with eager agitation, his curly hair caught the rays of sun which shone through the window, affecting the red strands upon his head to gleam like fine threads of copper - how common! With her narrowed eyes tracking him as he pranced about the lavishly decorated morning room like a buffoon, Caroline grumbled, a slight growl seeping out from between her gritted, (yet perfectly straight and white), teeth.
Charles, who was bouncing and bounding about like a poorly trained puppy, could hardly contain the excitement which gushed through him from tip to toe. Clapping his hands and licking his lips, the man rolled on the balls of his feet and readied himself to proclaim his most remarkable announcement.
'I have something to tell you,' he started, his face awash with animation. 'It is about our dear friend, Darcy.'
Caroline, who had been drinking her coffee, suddenly stopped and stilled, a generous mouthful of hot, brown, sugary liquid now stuck in her gossiping pie-hole of a mouth while she waited with bated breath.
'You will never guess!' he taunted good-naturedly.
Good heavens! What could it be, thought she?!
Charles was grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat who had well and truly got his cream, and after letting out a strident chuckle of joy, one which can only derive from a person with the most gentle and generous of hearts, he cheerfully revealed, 'Why, he is engaged!'
In a mere twinkling of an eye, Caroline spat out her coffee, the contents spilling out, rather like...well, I am sorry to have to say it and be so vulgar, (especially over the breakfast table), but rather like an animal spraying out its...well, you know what.
Coughing and spluttering, Caroline near enough choked, her face turning as red as rhubarb. 'Engaged!' she blew and blustered, hardly able to get the word out, the two syllables getting lodged in the back of her throat and threatening to do her in.
Charles' head nodded up and down, so enthusiastically that it was a wonder it did not fall off its perch altogether, the vigour of which left her feeling dreadfully dizzy. 'Yes!' he confirmed merrily. 'Is it not wonderful? And to think, he and I will be like brothers, since we shall marry two sisters, the dearest ladies in all the world, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet!' he cried, overjoyed by this most agreeable turn of events. 'Oh! I must go and tell Louisa!' he said, opening the door and skidding off down the hallway.
Left alone, Caroline Bingley sat there in stunned silence, her mind seething. Clutching onto the coffee cup which still reposed in her well-polished hand, the spinster tightened her grip, and before she knew it, the fine China had shattered, sending fragments of porcelain flying across the table in a furious frenzy.
With her nostrils flaring, her eyes bulging, her chest heaving, and her mind reeling, all she could do was let out the loudest and most unladylike scream that had ever escaped her pretty yet petty lips, the glass of the windows, the chandelier, and the water goblets all quivering in response.
Sinking down in her chair and folding her arms like a petulant child, Caroline threw away her genteel ways and hissed:
"Damn her and her fine eyes!"