There have been several issues viewing later chapters of this story, so I reposted it as a oneshot titled "Silent Stranger-repost."

(A/N This is my second P&P fic and the first chaptered one. It won't be too long, as much follows the original storyline, but I had the thought that it was interesting that Darcy couldn't find any affection in Jane towards Bingley when Elizabeth straight up thought he hated her until he proposed. [Am I the only one who thought that was funny?] So I set up an instance where we can compare the two and the story unfolded from there.

I hope you enjoy!

As always, I own nothing!)

Realizations

"Miss Elizabeth? Is your next set occupied?"

"Mr. Bingley! I would love to accept such a kind offer from my host, however I seem to have retired from dancing for the evening." She sent a glance at the companion she was unwillingly accompanying.

"I'm sorry to hear of your fatigue," he glanced at Mr. Collins, "but I must insist. As you said, I am your host." He gave her a charming smile that lit up his face.

She could feel nothing but relief in leaving her cousin behind as she took her place for the next dance.

"Are you enjoying your evening, Miss Elizabeth?"

"The ball is very pleasant," she answered truthfully. He noticed her aversion and his smile dimmed somewhat.

"But not to your satisfaction?"

"I...um." She was at a loss on how to answer both truthfully and discretely, though that was usually a skill of hers. Acknowledging her sister's affection for this man she allowed a concession in a quiet voice, "I fear my cousin's attentions, and thus find the company this evening wanting." A contemplative look appeared on his usually felicitous face.

"You expect a proposal?" he whispered. She gave a quick nod, not meeting his eyes. "Surely you have nothing to fear with a simple mention of other prospects." She couldn't help the blush that came to her features at his bluntness.

"I believe you have me confused with another, Mr. Bingley."

"Did I not see you... " He trailed off as someone caught his eye over her shoulder. By the time the dance had her turn around she couldn't tell who he'd been looking at. After a few moments of separation in their steps he continued along a different line of query. "I must confess I did not ask you to dance to speak of your prospects, but rather your sister's." She could not help the gasp that escaped her at his conspiratorial whisper.

"I do not believe I am the one to speak to about such things."

"You misunderstand me, though only in part. I rely on Darcy a great deal. He is my head when my heart runs away, but I have noticed a certain distraction in him lately," she was confused at the teasing hint in his smile, "and I thought to seek the counsel of another."

"I'm afraid I still do not understand."

"I know I am overstepping propriety in asking, but I hope to question you on your sister's affections. Am I imagining her affection simply because I wish it to be there? If I were to make a request would I be received welcomely?"

"Oh! Mr. Bingley! You would make her the happiest of anyone you've ever chanced to meet. My dear friend Miss Lucas and I were just conversing about how we've never seen Jane to be so happy than when in your company. She was of the mind Jane should be more forward in her affections, as to not send you away." He sighed in relief as the most brilliant smile stretched across his face.

"I am so glad. I thought perhaps she was like Darce in her countenance, but was so frightened that she was truly uninterested."

"Darce?"

"Mr. Darcy. Excuse me."

"I must say, I do not see the comparison."

"Darcy refuses to show his emotions. Negative or positive, he gives an air of detachment. Ja- Miss Bennet, on the contrary, gives a pleasant air no matter the circumstance. I have seen her mask withstand my sisters' barbs and find her just as impenetrable as my friend."

"I would argue that she simply sees the good in everyone, even when I can find none myself, but I fear that fact is irrelevant, because your assessment is correct. She is in the habit of not even showing me her true feelings until we retire from the day, if she even does then. She has never been able to afford accidentally offering support to an unwanted suitor for her coveted beauty."

"And Darcy for his coveted estate. I wish he would show his kind generosity more often." She refrained from scowling as she once again considered his regard of his friend. His assessment could be correct, in fact it should be correct considering their familiarity, but that did not excuse Mr. Darcy's many faults. He had slighted her upon their first meeting at the assembly, Mr. Wickham had laid several accusations at his feet that he did not deign important enough to address, he was too proud to converse with the general populace that he considered below himself, and kept a critical eye upon her during the social calls they had both attended.

She missed a step in the dance as she reviewed that last point.

"Excuse me," she whispered as Mr. Bingley sent her a concerned and questioning glance at her misstep. Luckily the song was coming to a close and she was able to quickly and quietly thank him before nearly running from the floor to consider her new information. Only the supperset was left and she looked for an ounce of solitude for the duration of the half hour to engage in some reflection.

She found her escape in a doorway that led to a balcony over the garden. She kept her back to the wall so that none of the partygoers could see her; she had no desire for Mr. Collins to attach himself to her again, nor did she wish to be studied by the object of her reflections.

With Mr. Bingley's conversation in mind she reviewed her reasons to dislike Mr. Darcy.

He had insulted her at the assembly. "She is not handsome enough to tempt me."

She was not one to hold a grudge for such a small infraction, however Mr. Bingley seemed to hold Mr. Darcy in a higher respect than resorting to such insults. Was the slight she had overheard only a small part of an ongoing conversation? Perhaps Mr. Darcy was trying to defend himself from his friend's instigations to dance and had slipped to casting insults during his defense. She shook the thoughts from her head; she was presuming too much. Whatever the case, in this instance, she cared little for the slight and could laugh it away no matter the reason for it.

Mr. Wickham's accusations were great however. To be withheld from a living was inexcusable.

Mr. Darcy refused to offer his side of the incident, rendering her consideration biased. She applied other variables. Mr. Darcy's two acquaintances prior to his stay at Hertfordshire were Mr. Wickham and Mr. Bingley. Wickham was charming while Bingley was expressive. In a single dance she'd seen a wider range in Mr. Bingley's countenance than she had ever witnessed in Mr. Wickham's. Mr. Bingley's openness did not allow much room for deception, while a charming smile and partial information could sway an opinion easily. Could it have swayed her opinion? Recalling Mr. Wickham's accusations she realized how odd it was for him to confide in her so early in their acquaintance. He kept his charming smile even as he explained the great pains of his past. He had no way of knowing her discretion. All of Meryton could know the business between he and Mr. Darcy by now had he misjudged her character. Or perhaps he did misjudge her character and had been hoping to alienate the opinion of Mr. Darcy. Once again she chided herself for assuming too much, however this time she did not dismiss her assumptions wholly, recalling Miss Bingley's words on the matter. Not that she trusted Miss Bingley, but even a blind chicken can find the grain.

His pride manifested itself in a reservation of interaction.

He did not speak to, or dance with, anyone if he could help it. He observed the atmosphere and passed judgement only he could know. His actions were comprised of inactions. His conversation, pleasant but forced. His debate, well thought and without ridicule.

She looked in the door subtly with the hopes of observing him. With luck he happened to be in the room she was adjacent to. Unsurprisingly, he was not dancing. He was on the outskirts appearing to attempt to blend in with the wall ornaments. She gasped and plastered herself back to the wall by the doorframe upon her realization. He was shy. Just as her Jane. Just as Mr. Bingley had alluded.

Her mind floated to his frequent gaze upon her, but before she could consider any more the song ended, marking the beginning of supper.