Stand Still
By: Plumbob7
A Pride and Prejudice story
Chapter 1
Elizabeth is a time traveler that has been stuck in nineteenth century England, a re-imagining separate from the Bennet family. She will be faced with an impossible decision: to accept her circumstances or to make an alliance with the mysterious Mr. Darcy. [M for sexual tension and mild violence]
With a forced smile, I turned down yet another glass of wine as politely as I could manage. The waiter barely looked at me before walking off with his tray of wine glasses. His face is void of emotion, like he would rather be anywhere else but here at this ball. "That makes two of us pal." I watched his retreating body as he moved onto the next group of drunken men adjacent to me. If only Charlotte hadn't convinced me to come tonight. Parties make me uncomfortable with all of the dancing and socializing lately. Of course, it was my obligation to come being the guest of her husband, Mr. Collins, and normally I wouldn't be so cross, until I saw Mr. Darcy. I frowned into my water glass, "Why is he here of all places? Doesn't he have more extravagant parties to attend?"
I decided to scan the room for my dearest friend, Charlotte. I found her by the far east wall next to some colleagues of Mr. Collins. Her eyebrow is quirked and her lips are thin. She made sure that our eyes met before turning to her husband and whispering something in his ear, he nodded whilst looking at me. She then ticked her head swiftly towards the nearest room, away from the gathering. "Great," I thought, "another talk." If I were back home, I would have dragged my feet dramatically after her. This was not the first time she has pulled me aside this evening. I'm positive that I am testing her patience tonight.
I passed many laughing and drinking guests as I trailed after Charlotte. The small orchestra is playing a fast-paced melody for the brave few whom tempted to keep up dancing. The music reminded me of Mr. Darcy standing by the piano. Dare I check if he is still standing there? I glance over attempting to appear as if I am just scoping out the room and I see that he is indeed still looking at me.
It wasn't obvious enough to draw attention to the people standing around him. He was centered around two women and a tall gentleman with a moustache that twisted upwards. The mustached man is obviously telling quite an exciting story as his hands waving around wildly and a large drunken grin is firmly planted. Nevertheless, Mr. Darcy managed to keep his attention pointed to his friend and still flicker his eyes to me, as if tracking me. "If I can just get through this party..." I thought, quickening my pace, weaving through shoulders and elbows.
Most of the women seemed to be wearing various hues of white dresses. Private balls encouraged everyone to show off their wealth. White is infamous for being difficult to keep clean, a lesson I learned the hard way since I now have to hand wash all of my clothes. The women are wearing big hats or elaborate updos with soft curls framing their faces. As usual, I was borrowing the same gown from Charlotte: an eggshell white dress with dainty lace and tiny roses lining my waist with a deep square cut down my chest, which makes me insecure considering how small my bust is. My hair was fashioned into a loose bun with pearl tipped pins holding loose strands of hair into a curl. Thankfully, Charlotte left my bangs down; I was terribly insecure about my large forehead. The men were mostly wearing dark colors which was intentional to contrast to the women's white dresses. Charlotte caught my arm, pulling me into the dark room and against a shadowed wall next to a gigantic book case.
"Elizabeth, are you still feeling ill?" Charlotte asked with a bit of impatience showing through her sweet demeanor.
I could tell she was suspicious of me as her accusing eyes heated my face with guilt. I hated lying to her. After all, she is my only friend in this new life that I am trapped in. She's the only soul who knows I am a time traveler in this era and, bless her, she did not think me insane. She pinned it to an overactive imagination and what she suspects is amnesia since I have no recollection of a family I could be returned to. Of course, I do have a family, they're just 200 years into the future. However, I do not fault her for trying to make sense of it, I am of a sound mind in all other aspects. After all, I'm sharp and decently attractive, there was no reason for her to think something was wrong with me.
Nothing got past Charlotte. Half an hour ago I had rudely rejected Mr. Thompson's offer to dance by waving my hand and loudly telling him, "No, thanks." Even from across the ballroom she had seen my rude gesture and hurried over. This resulted in Charlotte immediately excusing us to the loo. When we headed in the opposite direction of the loo, I realized I was about to be scolded. She lectured me in this same room for my cheeky attitude. I told her I didn't feel well and that was the source of my sour mood. She clearly isn't convinced now. I had to give her something, even if it was just a small piece of the truth.
"He continues to stare at me, Charlotte," I finally managed.
"Who is staring at you?" she said, straightening up. I realized she had been leaning forward slightly, awaiting my reply with her sweet face scrunched into worry.
"Mr. Darcy", I replied, looking away. I knew what he wanted and it scared me, there's no way I could share this with Charlotte. I worried it would challenge her opinion regarding my sanity. Mr. Darcy is a well-respected man and there is perceivably no reason for anyone to fear him.
"Elizabeth," her eyes softened, "I know it can be scary to be in the company of men," she said quietly, paranoid that we might be overheard. "But until you can, uh, return to your time, you must keep up your part of the deal and mingle. Mr. Collins is getting impatient. Besides, you're twenty-three years old and unmarried." She paused, "It comes off as a bit suspicious." She tried to give me a sympathetic smile but I could see the pity plain as day on her face.
I knew she was right. I had to do my part to keep up the façade, not just for my sake but for hers too. Her husband, Mr. Collins, has tolerated my stay in his estate for four years. However, the casual suggestions to attend more events were becoming more frequent, and people were starting to become suspicious. In this time, it is unusual for a beautiful woman as old as me to remain unwed. Mr. Collins is a kind, but odd, man. Charlotte was very lucky to marry into his family with his mild temperament and stable income. I was even more grateful to be taken in by them, especially for so long.
I met her eyes square on, "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm feeling much better." I felt childish admitting my guilt.
Charlotte smiled triumphantly and took my hands into hers.
"Lizzy, if you would just give someone a chance- "she started.
"I will," I quickly cut her off. "I'll try to lighten up." I shrugged trying to convey surrender. She didn't seem to understand. I don't want to find love here, what I want is to find a way home. "This is just temporary," I thought, trying to reassure myself. I wrapped my arms around Charlotte's small shoulders and smiled as much as I could manage when I pulled away. "Let's go mingle."
We rejoined the ball. Charlotte squeezed my hand before returning to her husband's side. I gave her a small reassuring smile and glanced around the hall for a familiar face to latch onto. I saw Mary standing near the dance floor, she is too shy to dance but is forever longing that someone will ask her. Unfortunately, she is not much fun to socialize with due to her uncanny ability to let the conversation be killed stone dead from its very infancy. She floods the conversation with an avalanche of facts after simply being asked how she is enjoying the party. I had a tender place in my heart for her, but I was not in the mood to deal with excessive boredom tonight. In fact, I want to have my spirits lifted. I scanned the room again.
Lydia looked more appealing, as there were three men and four women in her group of eight. As I headed over to join Lydia, I couldn't help but sneak a peek over to the piano. To my surprise, Mr. Darcy was no longer there. Despite the shiver that shot up my spine, I felt relieved that he must have gone home. The stress of being tracked was exhausting my nerves.
Mr. Darcy wasn't repulsive or unattractive by any means. On the contrary, he was very handsome. He was tall and fit, with dark brown hair that was smoothed back into a ponytail and tied with a dulled red ribbon. He also had a close-trimmed beard and pale blue eyes. He was wearing a long dark cape with a deep burgundy peeking out from the lining. If we were back home, I would not hesitate to make myself known to him. But we were not home, and even worse, I already knew of his intentions.
As I approached the group, the sounds of the ballroom faded and were replaced with the sounds of Lydia. She was quite short with mousy brown hair and freckles that were very prominent in the summer. For being only fifteen she had many opinions that she justifies with many falsehoods. I felt that she would say most anything to keep the attention of her peers. Today she was showing off her knowledge of William Blake's poem To Autumn.
Amused by Lydia's fierce but entertaining finger waggling and boisterous statements, I listened to her interpretation of the poem knowing that she would appear ignorant. Of course, I would never speak up. After four years, I find myself insecure with fear of letting something slip in conversation that has not yet happened. This is always a problem with time travelers, slip ups happen. We can be accredited to a handful of aspired inventions that seemed "before their time." Anyway, it was just easier to lend a listening ear and learn what I could about those around me.
I knew, for example, that Lydia and Mary were sisters. In fact, they have two more sisters twirling around the dance floor, and they are all quite beautiful. Jane, the oldest, has strawberry blonde hair with bright warm eyes and is, without question, the most attractive of the four. Mary, however, is Jane's polar opposite. She has very dark brown hair with soft features and down-turned eyes. The third sister, Kitty, has wispy brown hair and is rarely seen without a big smile. I like Kitty quite a bit, and if she were a couple years older, I imagine we would be good friends. The fourth sister, Lydia, has medium brown hair and a tiny nose that pinched up. Lydia always caused the most problems for the Bennets as she is quite rambunctious and in constant need of male attention. It's easy to dismiss her behavior as childish. Although, when she thinks no one is looking, I've spotted her looking quite forlorn. It must be hard to be in constant competition for attention among so many beautiful sisters.
Lydia starts to argue flirtatiously and quite loudly with the decorated soldier at her side, but he seemed to be enjoying the attention. I laughed as Lydia turned her waggling finger at the soldier with her hand on her hip. Suddenly, a deep burgundy blur caught the corner of my eye as it flickered by. My heart accelerated. I immediately turn my attention to the young man on my right. He couldn't have been older than 18, barely a legal adult back home, but he is definitely a man in this ballroom. He stood tall and proud, smiling. I had to think of something to talk about quickly.
"What do you think of To Autumn?" I said loud enough to be heard over Lydia but fast enough to encourage a quick response. I was drumming my fingers on my water glass, impatiently.
He stammered "I- I," looking from me to the remaining unspoken for man across the social circle and back to me. He managed, "Poetry reading is not something I do in my leisure." His face flushed red, probably from embarrassment. "Why do I always say the wrong thing?" Frustrated and desperate, I attempted to turn to my left, but was too late. I felt a gentle hand on my middle back and heard a deep voice in my ear. I squeezed my eyes together. "Oh no."
"Miss Elizabeth, May I have the next dance?"
Authors Note:
More chapters to come! This is my first Fanfic so I'm welcoming any and all criticism. Seriously, anything apart from cruel is encouraged. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.
I do not own any Pride and Prejudice properties, nor do I make any money from writing this story.