AN: The main character names have been left largely intact, save for Rukia's last name. 'Kuchiki' translates very well into a very Austen-esque English name, and I couldn't help myself in using it. Other characters' names have been changed or swapped out as needed. I've also tried to emulate the writing style of the Austen herself (with some slight adjustments when necessary.) Please enjoy!
Of all means for attracting young, eligible ladies, who lived within a day's carriage ride, none were so immediately effective as the prospect of dance and good company.
The assembly at Meryton was filled with all manner of gentlemen and ladies from around the nearby countryside who dressed in their fine attire. Rukia Rotwood had taken up alongside Orihime Inoue, her friend in the truest sense of the word, and a sister in all but name and blood. Having known each other since childhood, there was little that separated them. No greater ally was found in the turbulent grounds of a ball, in which a game was played amongst dances and pleasantries.
"It's wonderful, is it not, Rukia?" Orihime whispered excitedly. Already the men and women swirled to an upbeat melody which filled the hall. "This exceeds all my expectations! Do you not agree?"
"It is certainly louder than I imagined. Surely, this is not your first experience with a ball?"
"Oh, I know! But it is still more than I expected- though I see the men and women are not even in number, and some must sit between dances. Do you think one of them will ask me?"
"I doubt you will have trouble," Rukia offered a delicate smile. Orihime's handsomeness could not be questioned, and was easily regarded by anyone nearby. "However, you must be cautious. Many a man would take advantage of you. You must not jeopardize your standing by associating with the wrong sort."
Orihime's eyes widened. "Do you think such a man might be here? In this company?"
Such a man can be found in any company, Rukia thought, but could not bring herself to so devastate her friend's high opinions of the opposite sex. Orihime lacked the experience with betrayal which Rukia had known painfully well. "I doubt there is cause to worry. Still, you must remain cautious."
"I will indeed," Orihime said, nodding happily. "And you must do the same! Surely there are gentlemen here whom you would wish to dance with?" Her eyes danced across the many men in fine suits and uniforms across the hall.
Rukia's gaze had stopped more than once upon one man in particular with the most unusual bright auburn hair, further accented by a faint scowl which seemed intent on taking permanent residence on his person. He was flanked by another man wearing spectacles who looked close to his age, both equal in their level of dress and wealth. There was little about them to entice her; although Orihime had taken a surprising interest towards them.
"Perhaps," Rukia said. Assemblies and balls were far more agreeable to Orihime than to Rukia, who found them difficult affairs of insincere notions and idle words. "Do not give up your hopes on account of my poor opinion; If there is a man here who shows disinterest in you, he must be a fool indeed." She offered a small smile.
"Yes- Yes!" Orihime nodded, smiling in the way she did when nerves threatened her. She then looked to Mr. Fairfax, who moved to escort her across the room and introduce her to as many eligible men as possible, the action a necessity in preceding a dance. It was not long before Orihime and Mr. Fairfax were then looking back at her and beckoning with purposeful smiles. Rukia indulged them with a polite smile as she moved to take part in the introductions, but risked nothing more.
Indeed, the action became quickly regrettable; as despite her clever concealment in a seat far from the gaze of prospective dancers, hidden behind conversing parties, a handful of men appeared to look for her with the intent of asking her for a dance. The first of these was the man with unusually colored hair from before, who endeavored to ask her with the forced, idle civility so commonly found in public assemblies. His scowl still made itself known, albeit faintly; his actions no doubt the result of urging from friend or family. Rukia returned the arduous smile in kind, thanked him for his offer most politely, and confirmed she had no intention of dancing.
The man- who she remembered faintly from introductions as Ichigo Kurosaki- seemed quite taken aback at the notion. He repeated again his question, to which Rukia easily confirmed her answer. His scowl deepened with only slight efforts to conceal it. With a stiff bow, he departed for the company of his party.
The effect was immediate. No other man chose to approach her in the futile expectation of a dance. Rukia found no fault in it; she had felt tired, having slept ill the night before, and appeared at the event only in the moral support of Orihime, further desiring not to present competition to her dear friend. If the company had been more familiar, she may have acquiesced, but it remained that all of those present, except for Orihime and Mr. and Mrs. Fairfax, were strangers to her.
It was not much further into the evening when Mrs. Fairfax and Orihime approached her with curiosity. Mrs. Fairfax, as the elder sister of Orihime, and usual chaperone for the two unwedded and eligible women, often took it upon herself to interfere in the matters of courtship and prospective husbands. She questioned Rukia's decision not to dance, though was not surprised at it, given Rukia's previous behaviors in social engagements.
"I had wished you would dance, Rukia," Orihime admonished.
"It seems you have caused offense towards Mr. Kurosaki, and grievously so- to the shock of his family, I might add," Mrs. Fairfax said.
Rukia remained firm in her behavior. "It cannot be helped if his expectations deviate so far from reality, or from my own intentions. Surely, my rejection will not be the sole cause of a soured perception of the evening, for the denial of a single partner is hardly excuse for it. I would not prefer such a man. Nor does it excuse the disagreeable, severe expression upon his face, for I was aware of its presence long before I gave any answer."
Movement caught the corner of her eye. The very object of their conversation, who had been standing not far from the three of them, moved decidedly away; his scowl deeper than it had been before, while his eyes captured Rukia's for the barest of moments.
Rukia watched at first in embarrassment. Then, she found there was little reason for it; if he knew her true opinion of him, then it was for the better. It would save her the trouble of interacting with him in the future.
"Oh- But is that not unkind?" Orihime asked.
"I cannot fault you for it," Mrs. Fairfax said, "I daresay you have saved yourself from future marks on your character. There is much to be said of the Kurosaki family, and very little of it respectable or amiable in nature; and I would not fault you in removing yourself of it before unsavory gossip may take hold. They reside not far from here, at Longbourn, you know."
"I am not familiar with their family, or what is known of them," Rukia said.
"I could not spend the time now to divulge it; not at present, at least. Although their poor behaviors may be attributed to their unfortunate situation."
They watched as another dance came to a close and its partners shuffled once again amongst the crowds; and through it they spied Mr. Kurosaki, who had taken position amongst his family. He was in the company of two younger ladies who looked to be the same age as one another; the first with short black hair, the other a lighter brown. They regarded the man familiarly. An older man, the father, spoke boisterously between them in an embarrassing way.
"Unfortunate situation?" Rukia asked. She looked away, although unable to dismiss her curiosity.
"Oh, yes. Their father- the elder Mr. Kurosaki- married into the Ishida family, who is of great wealth and standing; but it was against her family's wishes, his stature far below her own, and she was absolved from all support because of it. Nothing was left to them upon her father's death. Their son, Mr. Ichigo Kurosaki, and twin sisters, are left scarcely enough to live upon- within good company, that is. I believe their cousin Mr. Uryu Ishida also resides with them."
"That is unfortunate, to be victim to such an 'ill will,'" Rukia said.
"'Ill will' indeed! It is rumored that they may take up a trade in order to provide for themselves, unless they can marry into a more favorable situation than their own."
"How unfortunateā¦" Orihime said with the utmost dismay.
"You would do well to stay away from them," Mrs. Fairfax admonished.
Sympathy filled Rukia; and she chanced another look up upon the young sisters of the Kurosaki family, who appeared the most innocent of anyone throughout the room, seemingly no older than fifteen years of age.
Unwilling to condone Mrs. Fairfax's amusement, for Rukia found no pleasure in the subject, she endeavored instead to encourage Orihime to join another dance. It was an easy feat, given the lack of ladies in competition, and more than one gentleman was watching her with interest. The evening wore on, and many dances later Rukia found her patience waning, despite her friend's jubilance.
She could not help thinking upon the man she had scarcely met, save for their eyes locking for the briefest moment across the room. And so it continued, even as they bid farewell to acquaintances and strangers alike, and returned to Netherfield by carriage; the memory of him following her into the night.
It was easily known throughout esteemed company that Rukia Rotwood, whose brother possessed an income of ten thousand pounds a year, was very eligible for marriage. It was also known that she rarely appeared at social functions, and even rarer still did she ever agree to dance. Rumors still lingered of her brother's unusual marriage many years ago; in that he became attached to a woman of much lower standing than himself, and their engagement caused much gossip throughout respectable company. They wed despite the elder Mr. Rotwood's objections to the match. Rukia's brother had married for love; and Rukia had been eager to embrace her new sister into the family.
Their time together drew to a tragic close but two years after it began, as the Lady Rotwood's health had long been poor, and even the matter of children was never approached. It had been three years hence. As a widower, her brother rarely sought company or appearances in society, leaving the task to Rukia as she pleased. And, as it was Orihime's family who was inclined for such events, Rukia only appeared at her dear friend's behest.
Orihime's own family had ample resources for social engagements, boasting an income of nearly five thousand pounds a year. Her elder sister and brother-in-law, Mr. Fairfax, were very easily swayed into acquiescing to Orihime's ambitions; although she lacked the courage to go about the engagements alone. Rukia felt all but obligated to aid her in these ways, and was staying with them at their new home of Netherfield for the foreseeable future.
It was quickly discovered that, to Rukia's horror, there was little which could send Mr. Kurosaki from her thoughts, so strongly did his image imprint itself upon her. She found relief only in that she would have little reason to see the man again due to their distinctive circumstances; even as Mrs. Fairfax decided to host a ball for as many who would fit within Netherfield. To Rukia's dismay, the Kurosaki family were invited to attend. Mrs. Fairfax provided no explanation for it, only alluding to Orihime's hand in choosing attendees.
It was not long into the party when Rukia was made aware of Mr. Kurosaki's absence, for she had watched him curiously since he arrived. A search revealed him to have stepped away from the public areas of the ball, into a servant's area, where he was crouched beside his two sisters. One of them was inconsolable in her tears, overwrought with stress.
"Why would he not ask me to dance? He promised me that he would!" the brunette girl sobbed most pitifully.
"Men often say things which they do not mean," the other sister said. "He is not worth the pain."
Mr. Kurosaki drew his handkerchief and easily dried the tears. "Calm down, Yuzu. He lacks any form of honor. If he cannot appreciate you, then we have no interest in him. You are deserving of a man far better than that. But you must calm yourself, do you understand?" Mr. Kurosaki said, in a curious way where his typical scowl was softened, and his voice comforting in a very wholesome way.
His sister's hysteric state lessened easily upon hearing his words. It continued on for moments longer, and was only delayed when Mr. Kurosaki offered apologies to the nearby wait staff for impeding their duties. All of this Rukia watched from the shadows of the nearby hall, unknowingly to them. Quickly did she scurry out of sight just before they could be aware of her presence.
Rukia could not help but remember her own brother's words many years ago, in which he had impressed upon her a very important lesson in judging a man's character: The true nature of a man could be exposed in how he cared for his family and in the manner he treated servants.
It was not long before Mr. Kurosaki and his sister were once again within public view at the ball; the latter appearing in better spirits than before, if slightly morose compared to her lively father and sober sister. Rukia could not help but spy Mr. Kurosaki in his place across the hall. He regarded her little, appearing to have no desire to acknowledge her, which vexed her somewhat. Despite usual introductions to men throughout the room, no man had yet approached her for a dance. Nor did Mr. Kurosaki show any inclination towards it. Indeed, he only danced sparingly, and without much passion for it. Her patience began to wear thin. How careless for him to act in such a manner, when his future could depend on the procurement of a good wife.
She moved delicately across the room, subtly and away from prying eyes, to stand beside him as he regarded the rest of the hall.
"You show little passion for dancing," she said.
He stared at her with hard eyes, and the scowl remained firmly in place. "I find that amusing, after your behavior at Meryton. And I have seen no contradiction tonight."
"I am merely particular in the time, place, and manner of company in which I may dance."
"Is there something you want of me?"
"Yes. I wish for you to ask me to dance."
He let out a snort that was barely heard over the constant raucous of the hall, which Rukia found amusing and most ungentlemanlike. "You amuse me," he said. "Find someone else to pester with your jokes."
"Can I speak plainer? I assure you, I speak not in jest, and I would accept your offer if you so asked it of me. But if you are incapable of such an act, or doubt your ability in knowing the steps, then I will not fault you in electing to stand idly by instead."
Not an instant passed before he was standing in front of her, his brows furrowed in determination, driven by his honor having been called into question. His hand was reached out to her in the customary way. Their eyes peered into one another, and he reminded Rukia of a beast intending to assert its strength.
They took their places within the line of other dancers. With bows and curtseys, they started the first steps with ease. He did not avert his gaze from her in the benign way of other gentry, and she found it fascinating to be the object of his fixation.
"I thought you did not care to dance," Mr. Kurosaki said.
"As I have already related, I am merely particular as to the time and place for it."
"For what reason did you elect to dance tonight, and with me?"
"Must I explain myself to you? What do my reasons matter? We are dancing now. That is enough."
"I'm surprised you can be so loud and talkative, yet say so little."
"When one asks a question, they are not owed an answer. If you find that disagreeable, I cannot claim fault."
"You have instigated this dance. Against my better judgment, I have obliged you. I am owed an explanation for it."
"You are being needlessly difficult. I elected to dance, and we are doing so now. There is nothing more to remark upon. Do you question every partner as to their intentions? It is most ungentlemanly. You are to engage in polite chatter while invoking a sense of flattery. 'My, what a lovely dress graces you tonight! You dance with the utmost of elegance and your teeth are the most pleasing shade of white.'" Rukia knew it was so, for she had learned throughout her readings and study on such matters; although she lacked the experience of enduring such things herself.
He scoffed. "Where have you gotten such ideas? No human talks in such a manner."
She huffed lightly, and protested, flustered, that her observation was entirely correct, and thus it would be foolish indeed for him to dismiss it.
His eyes flashed when they next circled each other, and she was drawn to the intensity of it. Words left her entirely as they danced. He was far more graceful in his steps than she expected, moving about with ease, and yet his attentions never wavered from her. For so intent was his gaze that she could only tear herself from it with the utmost resolve. All other matters faded away until it was the two of them dancing and nothing more.
It ended with a harsh abruptness, from which Rukia struggled to recover. She answered his bow with a curtsey. Then, his expression tense yet indecipherable, Mr. Kurosaki retreated to his party.
Long after the ball had concluded, and the last guests departed during the next morning's dawn, Rukia recounted the events of the previous night. She had found Mr. Kurosaki to be pleasing to the eye, the cut of his jaw and face strong yet not severe. He garnered no complaints from her during their dance, although she would have liked another dance had he offered it. His hair, unusual as it was, made him all the more unique of a man. But above all she was drawn to his dark eyes and the fixated way he looked upon her. Indeed, she realized he looked upon the world around him with the same intense stare; so firm was he in regarding it and carrying himself. She was impressed equally in his conduct regarding his family and those around him. Even the servants were treated with a level of civility that was remiss in other gentry. All marks of a strong heart, which Rukia knew lay beneath a feigned disinterest. It captivated her even further than at Meryton. Thus, she offered no resistance when Orihime insisted on attending another assembly in town.
Many such opportunities presented themselves, which Rukia always found excuses to accompany. She had convinced Orihime to come with her for errands into town for the smallest of things, for she knew that Mr. Kurosaki sometimes brought his sisters and cousin there. When they met, Rukia acted each time as if it were a surprising coincidence, which Orihime unknowingly supported with her own pleasant surprise. The family responded happily enough, though their pleasure was directed moreso at Orihime than at Rukia.
Mr. Kurosaki would regard her with a stiff bow and his typical scowl. He would idly ask as to their families and health, to which they would respond in kind. Orihime would engage them in light conversation with eagerness.
Once, when Rukia and Orihime were due to depart, he offered a hand in helping her into the carriage. Rukia was mortified to sense the flush to her cheeks, and elected to tilt her head away to conceal it.
The Kurosakis thought them to be the most unusual pair, for they found Miss Inoue kind of spirit and pleasant in conversation. They wondered what could possess her to consider Miss Rotwood her companion; for the Rotwoods were known for their cold-heartedness and bitter view of the world. To which, Miss Rotwood's behavior reaffirmed what was whispered throughout Meryton. For what other reason could an eligible woman of standing refuse to dance? It was eagerly spoken of for weeks, and the Kurosaki home was no exception.
"And yet she chose to dance with our dear Ichigo!" The eldest Kurosaki boasted; his loudness only partially to blame on the wine he had consumed that evening at Longbourn. "That is testament to his handsomeness. Even the iced-heart princess cannot resist. Wouldn't you agree, my dear?" He asked the portrait hanging upon the wall of his departed wife.
"I do not understand her aims," Karin said thoughtfully. "I suspect she is plotting something."
"I have never heard of a woman refusing to dance," Yuzu said with distress, and began to fan herself desperately. "Perhaps she is ill?"
Ichigo snorted, and said, "In body, she seemed perfectly capable; but I cannot make claim to her mind." He had dismissed all claims of embarrassment since the first rejected dance at Meryton, no matter how much his family or neighbors questioned him on the matter. But his attempts to perish the thought of it were in vain. The memory of her rigidity, her confident yet collected nature, in how she turned him away as if he were a pageboy- he could not abide by it, and found her character lacking ever since. So puzzled was he when she asked him to dance- again, so against propriety, he was obligated to find fault in it.
"She is of very high station," Mr. Ishida offered, equally displeased. "I fear her standing in society has informed her actions in the worst of ways."
"Indeed!" The senior Mr. Kurosaki shouted, loud enough for all to wince at the suddenness of it. "My girls know better than to allow station and fortune to tarnish how they treat others. I am proud of you, Karin and Yuzu!"
"We are also too poor to hold any station above anyone else," Mr. Ishida intoned.
"I am surprised you have taken so well to visiting town," Orihime said as they walked down the road, finding it dry enough to stroll without carriage. "I had thought you did not particularly care for visiting shops in person?"
"I have had a change in opinion of it," Rukia said. "I simply find the activity far more enjoyable than I once did."
Orihime nodded happily, and thought no more of the matter.
As Rukia had suspected, the Kurosaki family had visited town for their own needs that day, and she spied them lingering not far from the milliner's shop.
"Miss Inoue!" One of the young sisters cried. Orihime smiled and scurried to meet them. Rukia followed, but withheld the smile which would have informed anyone of her mood, for she could not allow it.
No sooner did they approach was a new figure visible amongst them; an all too familiar man with red hair which clashed grievously against his red officer's uniform. Rukia froze in her steps. Shock was evident in her features, washing upon her before any effort to conceal it could be made; so unexpected was the appearance of Renji Abarai. She cared not for whatever severe expression took hold of her face, so consumed by detestment that propriety held no sway on her.
She scarcely heard whatever words were said. She had no patience for ignorant conversation; and under no circumstances could she allow herself to be in his presence a moment more. With no ceremony, she abruptly turned on her heel and quickly walked herself out of town.
It was not long before she heard Orihime's attempt at catching up to her on the road. Rukia uttered the lightest of apologies for her friend's inconvenience.
"To think he is such a horrid manā¦" Orihime said.
"He conceals it easily enough," Rukia said with bitter disdain.
Orihime swore that they would not face him again, and endeavored to avoid wherever soldiers may be found; though found encouragement in knowing they rarely stationed for more than a season.
Of all respectable ways for a lady to pass the time, Rukia loved artistry the most. It was not uncommon for her brother to join her in portraiture when she was home at Pemberley. Her passion continued while staying at Netherfield, and she often found herself in the company of Mrs. Fairfax and Orihime as they continued their own artistic pursuits. When Rukia took interest in Orihime's subject matter of choice, which, for all appearances, seemed a simple study of architecture from a simple garden wall, her friend reacted most strangely. She stuttered, struggled to convey basic speech, offered a flustered smile, and babbled incoherently as she hastily took leave from the room. The inspiration for her work remained a mystery.
The behavior was not entirely unexpected, as Rukia had noticed Orihime to act increasingly irrational in recent weeks, and more prone to bouts of whimsy than usual. Asking her of it produced little insight.
"Is it not obvious the source of her mania?" Mr. Fairfax said one afternoon. "Her affections for someone have driven her to hysterics."
Mrs. Fairfax looked up from the sofa with interest. "Are you certain it was not the pie? She reacts rather strongly to good pie, and Mr. Shelton is quite skilled in the art of baking."
"You of all should know the difference. In the matter of baking, she is driven to smiling with intention, and nodding without need for conversation."
"Oh, yes," she agreed. "A reaction to pies would not explain her sudden love of humming."
Rukia could not help but agree, for there had been a marked increase in her friend's passion for melodies that were easily kept without instrument or accurate tune. What songs she attempted to hum, however, could not be known.
"It must be love," Mr. Fairfax said. "I have seen it often enough within my own sisters."
"If it is love, then there is the question of what man has instigated it," Mrs. Fairfax said while drumming her fingers upon the cushions. "And why we do not know of him?"
The notion of Orihime being in love was as illuminating to Rukia as it was painful. For what reason would Orihime keep such a thing from her? Rukia could not abide anything which would prevent sharing an important matter such as love; their sisterly connection would surely facilitate an openness on the subject. How silly for Orihime to keep it a secret!
And yet, it remained so. Rukia and the Fairfaxs found denial of it at every attempt to question her on the matter. Rukia could only conclude the subject of her affections was a man unfit for marriage. Orihime was well aware of Rukia's high expectations for the sort of man worthy of her friend, and had elected to keep her suitor a secret out of guilt. She could be very sensitive to the approval of those around her. Of the man in question, Rukia could not guess. She had been distracted as of late, preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Kurosaki. But it was known that in recent months Orihime had taken the carriage to frequent visits to an undisclosed destination.
The matter of love brought forth other thoughts, for the very nature of Orihime's behavior was not dissimilar to much of Rukia's own. More than once did Mrs. Fairfax comment on Rukia's more pleasant disposition. Orihime, in turn, had remarked on her cheeriness in recent weeks.
With resignation, Rukia unwillingly came to accept her own condition, and found the symptoms consistent with being lovestruck in regards to another. And there was little doubt that Ichigo was the cause of it; on more than one occasion Rukia had caught herself thinking of him in blind affection, remembering moments spent together, replaying every word of conversation with relish.
Her condition manifested by many unfortunate symptoms, including thoughts of marriage. She continued to think upon it, and the longer she dwelt on the matter the greater sense their match seemed to make. Her position provided every advantage, and he would have the benefit of a wife, no longer burdened with courtship. And Rukia would spend the rest of her life with a man sought for love; for she could not imagine a marriage to anyone else. So clearly did the idea speak to her practical nature, and to her growing sense of excitement, that she wasted little time in summoning a carriage bound for Longbourn.
- To Be Continued -
