Chapter 1
Fitzwilliam Darcy gazed out the window at the conveyances discharging their passangers into the Netherfield courtyard. He would not admit it, but he was looking for one particular carriage. When the Bennet carriage arrived he held his breath as the family stepped out. Upon seeing the figure of Elizabeth Bennet handed down, he unconsciously leaned closer to the window pane, admiring her beauty.
He would finally succeed in dancing with her, he determined. He knew he cared for her more then he would have ever dreamed possible, but marriage to her was out of the question. Her family, he thought with a shudder. He would need to leave Hertfordshire right away, tomorrow, or he might lose his battle with himself. His heart demanded that it's home was in Elizabeth's dainty hands, but his mind knew better. He would dance with her tonight, and the memory of that would have to be enough to last him a lifetime.
Scowling he thought to himself, Elizabeth was not to be his, no matter his inclination. The thought of any of the gentleman hereabouts claiming her as their own caused his scowl to deepen. None of them were worthy of her. The thought of another holding her close, wrapped in their embrace was an anathema to him. The knowledge that she would not marry anytime soon to anyone soothed him, but could not take away the sting.
With the scowl such a thought caused etched onto his face, he quickly made his way to the ballroom. It was not logical, he knew, since he could not marry her himself, but he wished to reassure himself that Elizabeth held no affection for any of the neighborhood gentleman. To banish the image of her in some namless faceless unworthy gentleman's embrace with that the sight of her in the ballroom. If he did note any interest from the gentleman hereabouts in her he would dissuade it, he thought grimly, for her sake and whatever hapless gentleman dared to raise their eyes to her. For his Elizabeth would surely wish to refuse the advances of any of the unfortunate gentlemen around here, but her mother would be all to happy to create an attachment out of whole cloth.
…
Elizabeth's eyes flashed with dismay as the officer, with a glance in Darcy's direction, informed her of Lt. Wickham's absence from the ball. She had enjoyed the handsome officer's company and had nourished a hope to dance with him at the ball, something that had seemed assured when he told her he would not let Darcy's presence deter him. She admired his desire to avoid causing any sort of scence that would upset Bingley and by extension her sister Jane. She darkly thought that she wished Darcy would have taken Bingley's suggestion and stayed in his room for the duration of the ball rather then prowl the edge of the room, glaring at her. Accepting the officer's solicitation of her hand for a set later in the evening, she moved off towards her friend Charlotte Lucas to await the first set, where she would be forced to partner her cousin, Mr. Collins.
…
Seeing the redcoated gentleman speaking to Elizabeth, Darcy silently urged the officer to move away from her without requesting a set from her. The fellow did not at first glance seem objectionable, but the longer he talked to Elizabeth the more Darcy decided that their was something objectionable about the gentleman, though he could not say what exactly it was, just that he did not like him or his attention to Elizabeth.
When the music for the first set began, Darcy watched Elizabeth as she stood up with a stout gentleman dressed in the black garb of a clergy man. The man misstepped and bumbled his way through the dance. Darcy glared as Elizabeth barely managed to avoid having her toes crushed. If the large lout dancing with her left a single bruise from his inexpert dancing, Darcy thought angrily, he could not vouch for his actions, clergyman or not. Darcy did not consider how he would determine if Elizabeth had been injured or not since he certainly could not remove her dancing slippers and asses her ankles and toes, much as he might wish to. All Darcy knew was that she had been subjected to a mortifying performance at the very least and it mattered greatly to him that she not have also received physical damage. As the music ended, he watched as she scampered quickly away from her partner. As Darcy followed her with his eyes, seeing no evidence of injury in her gait, he made a mental note to have words with the unknown parson, forbidding him from ever subjecting Elizabeth to such an experience again.
Seeing Elizabeth draw to a stop near Charlotte, a particular friend of her's he had noted, Darcy made his way towards them with determination. He would obtain the next set, where he would enjoy Elizabeth's company. He would like to enjoy her company while they waited for the set to begin, but realized her friend was better placed to offer Elizabeth the comfort and sympathy he wanted to and she needed after her last dance. It would not do, after all, to raise her expectations by bestowing all the attention and affection he wished to on her. If her situation in life had been different he would be securing her as his bride and could bestow all the attention on her he wanted. As it was he walked a fine line of storing up memories of her and not giving rise to expectations.
Reaching the two ladies, Darcy said in deep tones, "Miss Elizabeth may I have the pleasure of your next set if you are not engaged already?"
"I, I, I am not," Elizabeth said caught off guard. "Yes. You may."
Not trusting himself to speak, holding his elation inside him, Darcy bowed and retreated a short distance away, to keep watch over her until their dance began. He watched as her and her friend conversed and glared at a few gentlemen that attempted to approach the two and interupt their conversation. Quite a few rerouted in response to Darcy's pointed glare. Seeing the musicians prepare to begin, he quickly moved to Elizabeth and claimed her for the dance. As the two silently began the dance, Darcy thrilled in every small touch of Elizabeth's gloved hand. He schooled his features to not allow a hint of the adoration and admiration he felt for her to show. He was so focused on doing so that he was taken by suprise when she began to speak.
"This dance is elegant," Elizabeth said mischievously.
Unsure of where she was going with her comment, but happy to enjoy conversation with her Darcy said gravely, "It is."
After allowing a moment of silence to pass she said, "It is your turn, you know. I said something about the dance. Perhaps you can comment on the number of couples or the size of the room."
"Whatever you wish me to say, consider it said," Darcy told her, entranced by the sparkle within her eyes.
"That reply will do for now," Elizabeth said archly. "By and by I may observe that private balls are more enjoyable then public balls."
"Do you speak as a rule while dancing?" Darcy asked with a frown, imagining all the other gentlemen that would get to enjoy not only the physical aspect of dancing with her tonight, but also her witty banter and disliking the notion.
"Oh no!" Elizabeth cried with impish delight. "Only when the occasion merits it. Would it not look odd to spend half an hour in silence," she declared, enjoying tormenting the tactiurn man with speech when surely he would prefer to be silent. The occasion of needling him certianly merited talking. "For the convenience of some, perhaps conversation should be arranged so they may say as little as possible."
"Do you consult your own feelings on this or do you imagine them to be my own?" Darcy asked a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. His Elizabeth, he knew, delighted in pronouncing opinions that were in no way her own and he enjoyed her skillful debating of them.
"Both," she responded with an arch smile. "Do we both not silently observe and when the moment is right, speak words of wisdom that may be handed down with the elecat of a proverb?"
"I daresay, such a thing is no reflection of yourself and how near you find it to be to my character I cannot say," Darcy said enjoying himself, knowing that his Elizabeth did not silently observe like her did, but was rather an active part of any social gathering. She drew people to her and he, like her neighbors, was powerless to resist being within her orbit when she was present. He had long since noted how many sought her out and took real enjoyment in exchanging pleasentries with her. Old, young, male, female; all gravitated toward her and her livley personality. She had a unique talent for rendering even the dull and commonplace interesting.
"Do you and your sister often walk to Meryton?" Darcy said casting around for a topic of conversation. He knew Elizabeth favored the walk to Oakham Mount. He had more then once clandestinely watched her as she enjoyed the outdoors. He assured himself he was not asking in an attenpt to determine when he could next accidentally run into her since he would be leaving the area. A thought that pained him. It was not leaving the area, but leaving her.
"Yes, we had just made a new acquaintance when you saw us the other day," Elizabeth said, ice entering her voice.
Darcy drew back as if mentally slapped at her illusion to Wickham. His features wreathed with disgust, he said with a sneer, "Wickham is blessed with such happy manners that he makes friends easily, it his his ability to retain them though that is in no doubt."
"He has been unlucky enough to loose your friendship in a way he is likely to suffer from his whole life," Elizabeth said, her voice edged with contempt.
Still reeling angrily from the accusation in Elizabeth's voice, Darcy had no chance to respond before Sir William Lucus interrupted them commenting on Jane and Bingley. Darcy watched in horror as he saw it was indeed true that his friend was raising expectations with his attentions to the eldest Bennet daughter. Expectations he could not possibly fill unless he connected himself to the vulgar family. It appeared Darcy's planned removal would fortunately serve to remove his friend from the situation Bingley had inadvertently created. Once Bingley was removed from Hertfordshire, he would have no reason to hear word of Elizabeth Darcy realized with a pang, the connection would be well and truly severed. Attempting to regain his equimity he apologized for the interuption of their conversation.
"There are no two people that Sir William could have interrupted less," Elizabeth said cooly. "We have attempted a few topics with no success. The better part of valor is no doubt to give up."
Something in Darcy rebelled at the thought of giving up. Giving up his conversation with Elizabeth, giving up her society, givng her up. "What say you of books?" Darcy rasped out, attempting to exert his will over his wayward heart.
"Books!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I am sure we have different taste and have read none of the same ones or with the same feelings."
Darcy having observed everything he could about her, directly and indirectly, knew their taste concided closely in reading material, even if their opinions differed and suggested, "Then we may compare opinions."
"I could not possibly speak of books in a ball room," Elizabeth exclaimed styming him. "My mind is to occupied with the present," she added distractedly.
"Your mind is occupied with the present?" Darcy said doubtfully. It appeared she did not hear him though, for she made no response. Darcy was about to attempt to draw her from her distraction when she spoke suddenly.
"You said before that you never forgave and that your resentment is implacable? " Elizabeth asked him seriously.
"I did," Darcy said uneasily. Something about Elizabeth's tone and stance alerted him to the fact that all was not well. Attuned to her as he was, he sensed not only her distraction, but her agitation.
"You are careful in allowing it to be created?" She ventured frowning. "Or do you allow prejudice to guide you?"
"I do not allow prejudice to guide me, " Darcy said decisively. "May I ask what these questions tend to?"
"Your character. I have tried to make it out, but I have heard such differing accounts," Elizabeth said gravely.
"Now would not be a wise time to do so. I fear how the performance would reflect on either of us," Darcy said, a lead weight settling in his stomach. Clearly Wickham had poured his lies in Elizabeth's delicate trusting ears. How was he to leave when Wickham was here, turning the opinion of the one unrelated lady that mattered to him against him? How was he to leave her alone and unguarded against Wickham's practiced deception and charm?
With an attepmt to shake off her sober mood said, "If I do not do so now, I may never have the chance to and as you observed before the characters available for me to study are limited. I must take what chances I may to study ones unfamiliar to me."
"I would suspend no pleasure of yours," Darcy said, his mind making a resolution, one his heart rejoiced in. He would not leave Hertfordshire and Elizabeth until Wickham was exposed and removed from her society. Wickham was a scoundrel and a rake. Elizabeth was clever and intelligent, but she was still a sheltered maiden that Wickham would not scruple to take advantage of. Was she not, he thought, the most enchanting female he had ever beheld? Marriage was not a possibility and he would never take advantage of her compassionate, trusting nature, but Wickham would and would care not if he broke her heart or tarnished her reputation. Darcy would send for his cousin, Col. Richard Fitzwilliam, and Wickham's debts. The two of them would make a plan to deal with Wickham, without endangering Georgiana's reputation, and remove him from Meryton and Elizabeth. He could certainly last a few more days, a week at most, to deal with the matter in Elizabeth's company without succumbing to his own inclinations. For her safety he would. If he did not he would torture himself with worry over her as soon as he removed from the neighborhood if Wickham lingered in the vicinity of her. A small part of him admitted his desite to ensure that Wickham was not allowed to undermine her opinion of him was another motive, in addition to seeing to her protection.
…
Darcy dashed off an express to his cousin to be posted first thing in the morning. Taking action to safeguard Elizabeth made him feel better. After his dance with Elizabeth, the rest of the evening had gone down hill. Not only was he firmly reminded of how unsuitable her immediate family was, something it would behoove him to remember as he stayed in the area to see to Wickham, he was forcibly reminded just how lacking her connections were when the clergyman she had danced with intruded upon his notice, without so much as introduction and began to blather on about his aunt.
When the fellow had looked toward Elizabeth with a proprietary air, Darcy had been tempted to vent his displeasure on the man. The bumbling fool would not be permitted to claim Elizabeth as his wife, Darcy had decided. He would use this week to make it abundantly clear to the man that Elizabeth Bennet was not the bride for him. He had no qualms about throwing around his consequence and influence to see Elizabeth not wed to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth deserved so much more then to be the helpmate of a sycophant of his aunt's. She deserved a man that would place her above all others. That would cherish and adore her. That would challenge her intellect and nurture her mind.
