The aroma of sweaty bodies and cheap liquor was almost unbearable. In such a small, windowless room, it was a surprise that the ordinary people in attendance were not complaining of the stench. Perhaps it was too subtle for their weaker noses. The woman in the room continued to dance without rhythm, often times bumping into one another and giggling about it, as if being off tempo was something to be joyous about. Meanwhile, the men barely put any effort into their movements, more preoccupied with scouting the room with their eyes for their next drink. All of this only added to their obvious lack of social grace.
Darcy instantly regretted allowing his dear friend, Bingley, to drag him to such an event. He stood on a small stage, drowning out the chatter of the room, and watched his friend make smiles at a beautiful lady. Evidently, she was the only handsome girl in the room, which there were many. Bingley began dancing with the girl he had eyes on, so Mr Darcy resolved himself to glance about the room.
"Oh, look, Jane is dancing with Mr Bingley," a chirpy voice called out amongst the throng of party goers. "Mr Bennett!"
The loud lady's husband barely paid her any mind, opting instead to flag down a nearby gentlemen who carried a tray of whiskey glasses. Darcy concluded these to be the parents of the lovely girl Bingley danced with - Jane Bennett. Unfortunate that she would belong to such an unpalatable woman and unsociable man.
"Elizabeth, dear, over here!" The same obnoxious voice rang through the room, and it was a wonderment to Darcy that no-one took offense at her shrill tone.
A brunette lady, hidden deep within the mass of people, mostly thanks to her diminished height, trekked over to whom Darcy assumed was also her parents. His eyes studied her sharp facial features, made to seem small amongst the abundance of thick curls framing her face. While her sister, Jane, was tall and sleek, this sister was fuller around the edges, curvier. It seemed the two sisters did, however, share the same nose. That is where the similarities ended.
"Mama, I told you not to drink too much tonight. It is poor for your health," Elizabeth urged her mother.
Mrs Bennett swatted away her daughters worried filled words. "My dwindling health will soon take a turn, I am sure. Your sister is dancing with none other than Mr Bingley."
Elizabeth's eyes sought her sister amongst the increasingly growing crowd surrounding them. Darcy watched the girl's round eyes soften at the sight of her sister, twirling and smiling, seemingly not a care in the world. It is true, that while Darcy did not have nice words to say about Mr and Mrs Bennett, their eldest daughter was uncharacteristically well mannered and sweet. He did not yet have a well enough impression of Miss Elizabeth to make such an observation.
"Mr Darcy is in no other company than his own this evening," Mrs Bennett pointed out, drawing her daughters attention away from the dance and music, instead gesturing to the dias on which Darcy stood motionless. "Lizzie, perhaps you should seek his hand for a dance?"
Unwilling to risk the Bennett's knowing that he was listening to their conversation, Darcy pretended to be interested in the dancing couples, all the while maintaining an indifferent expression. He knew Elizabeth would turn her eyes towards him, seeing what every other young woman saw; a tall man, not only in stature, but in wealth. Every family with eligible daughters - of age or not - consistently assumed he would be a perfect match for their children. Darcy was unmarried by choice, however, not circumstance. It was unimaginable to most in society, so he was used to appearing standoffish and abrasive so long as it kept everyone at arm's length.
When Elizabeth spoke, it was not with the usual eagerness of single ladies in which he had become so accustomed too. "I am sure there is a reason for his being alone. After all, there have been several ladies throughout the evening who have attempted to pursue Mr Darcy. I have yet to see him take one step from where he stands."
She had been watching him? It is true that a few ladies have tried to tempt him by flirting, no doubt hoping he would offer a hand and ask them for the next dance. All of them were soon begrudged when he made no effort in conversation, and they tittered away to their next target. Darcy is usually aware of every set of eyes in the room, knowing he needs to remain mindful so as not to cause panic or discomfort in those around him, so to hear that this girl had been paying close attention to him without his knowledge was worrisome.
Intrigued, Darcy found himself moving from his raised position on the dias, swerving through the crowd, eyes locked on where the Bennett family members continued to talk. He was easily noticeable, being a head taller than most other men in the room, so his abrupt arrival was enough to halter the words being exchanged by Mrs Bennett and Miss Elizabeth.
"Mr Darcy," exclaimed Mrs Bennett, fanning herself whilst her husband attempted to hold onto both of their glasses of whiskey. "We were just saying how frightfully boring it would be to stand there alone all evening. My lovely Elizabeth is hoping to join in on the next dance, however, there is a great shortage of men tonight."
"Mama!" Miss Elizabeth chastised, barely sparing her mother a glance before turning her face upwards to seek Mr Darcy's eyes. "I am sure that Mr Darcy prefers his own company than that of strangers. It can be hard in a foreign place, don't you agree?"
Darcy saw the mischief hidden deep in Miss Elizabeth's chocolate coloured eyes, framed by thick lashes that made them appear rounder. She was deliberately giving Darcy the opportunity to escape her mother's condescending accusations, so he decided to play along. "I could not have phrased it better myself, Miss..."
Asking for an introduction was necessary, since they did not know he had been eavesdropping on them this entire evening. The distance in which they had been set apart would have been too great for anyone to possibly believe that he could have heard them talking, especially with how loudly the music and chatter was, however, he still could not take the risk.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennett. These are my parents, Mr and Mrs Bennett. I do have an older sister, currently dancing with Mr Bingley, whom I was told is your dear friend." Her kind eyes smiled lovingly at her sister as she continued to dance off key to the music. "I do have three younger sisters, though they are continuously missing, so introductions will have to wait."
"Are you staying in Longbourn?" Mrs Bennett interjected.
Darcy reluctantly turned his steady gaze to meet that of the unnervingly loud woman. "No, I am not. Mr Bingley and his younger sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, have procured lodging just outside of town for the summer. I am to remain with them."
"Outside of town?" quizzed Elizabeth.
"Netherfield Park," was his only reply.
"Netherfield Park! Oh, that is such a lovely - and big - estate. You must host whilst you are in town, Mr Darcy," Mrs Bennett went on to say, not slowing down enough for anyone to speak a single work against her.
Maintaining her composure at her mother's outburst, no doubt from years of experience with the unpleasant woman, Miss Elizabeth stepped a little closer to Mr Darcy, pitching her voice low. "I will not begrudge you if fleeing is what you wish to do. I am afraid that once my mother becomes excited, there will be no escape for the poor soul with whom she becomes focused on."
A passerby, clearly a staggering drunk, hastily shoved past the Bennett family, causing the crowd to shift around them. A body pushed Miss Elizabeth forward, where she then tripped on the front of her skirts and crumbled to the wooden floor. Mr and Mrs Bennett did not see their daughter fall amongst the throng of people, and so it was up to Darcy to ensure the lady was alright.
Crouching down required him to extend his arms out so they were on either side of Miss Elizabeth, ensuring no-one stepped too close to the girl and risk injuring her. His body still towered above her own. "Miss Elizabeth, are you alright? Can you stand?"
"Yes, I am quite-ouch," she breathed, ending what she was about to say.
"What is-."
That smell; sweet, hot and full of life, like a pulsating heart. Mr Darcy's eyes roamed across her body, pinpointing the small cut on Miss Elizabeth's palm as she held it up to inspect how deep the injury was. A few beads of blood formed along the ridges of the sliced skin, pooling in the palm of her hand before slowly making its way down her forearm, dripping off of her elbow onto the dirt covered wooden floorboards. That red liquid held him in place so long that he feared Miss Elizabeth would realise something was amiss with his reaction.
"I must have caught it on a nail," she murmured to no-one in particular.
Darcy shifted away slightly, though continued to protect her small frame from the bustling crowd. "Miss Elizabeth, can you stand?"
Her round eyes shifted from her hand to his face, and if she noticed anything displaced in regards to his expression, she didn't show it. "Yes. I believe so."
Together they stood, making their way towards the edge of the room where the crowd dispersed. Darcy could see that Mrs Bennett was preoccupied with two younger girls, no more than fifteen, which must be the younger siblings Miss Elizabeth spoke of. It would seem that her family was filled with girls. Mr Bennett's worn out features and seemingly deafness to his wives shrieking voice made sense.
Darcy procured a bottle of spirits from a gentlemen nearby, ushering Miss Elizabeth into one of the wooden seats in a secluded corner of the room. The only people hanging nearby were those too old to dance to the quick tempo music, and those who wished to sit and speak in private without the commotion of the rest of the room. She sat extremely still as Darcy popped the cork from the bottle of clear spirits before reaching for her arm, gripping it under the elbow for support as he extended it towards his stomach.
"Mr Darcy, you do not have to treat my wound," she stated.
"As I am the gentleman who saw your tumble, and with your parents otherwise engaged with your younger siblings, it is only fit that I be the one who ensures you are taken care of." Besides, and he did not speak this outloud, only seconds before her unfortunate fall, Miss Elizabeth attempted to assist Darcy with fleeing from her mother's hawklike gaze. That was enough to warrant him helping her. Not to mention he needed to wash away her blood before... "This will sting, but please remain still, otherwise it will take much longer."
She squeezed her eyes closed and gave a brief nod. Darcy poured the clear liquid onto her palm, gripping her arm tightly when her reflex reaction was to pull her hand away. Not only did the alcohol over power the sweet aroma of her blood, but it would also clean the cut of any infection that may attempt to take hold. Once there was an adequate amount of alcohol drenching her skin, Darcy used the handkerchief tucked away in his pocket, tying it around her palm so it would not come loose. There was also the problem with the blood on her forearm and dress, now dried, which could bring attention to her situation.
"Miss Elizabeth, you may open your eyes now," he told her gently, bringing her arm down to rest at her side once more, taking a step back after doing so. "I believe it best if you return home for the rest of the evening. Your gown is no longer appropriate."
"Oh," she breathed in dismay at the sight of the drops of dark red on her blouse. It caught him off guard when Miss Elizabeth smiled a second later, which no other girl in her place would have done at the notion that their dress was ruined. "It is a good thing this dress is a hand me down."
"Would you like for me to escort you home?" Being alone with her would be easy so long as her cut remains covered.
Giving it a few seconds of consideration, Miss Elizabeth rose on her feet, offering Darcy a grateful smile. "There is no need. I know a shortcut that runs down by the river, and it is a wonderful sight to see at night. The bright stars reflect off of the still surface in a way that cannot be seen in drawings or described in words. But I thank you, Mr Darcy, for your generosity and kindness."
"It is my pleasure," he declared with a gentleman's bow.
Miss Elizabeth leaned forward, that same mischievous glint in her intelligent eyes. "And do not worry - I will not tell a soul."
"Miss?"
"Of your kindness towards me. It was not hard for me to notice that, even though you are aware of those around you and take care to be polite, well mannered and versed in correct conversation etiquette, you prefer your own company, refusing to place yourself in the light just to please unfamiliar people. I do not wish to change anyone's impression of you if you do not consent to it. So I shall not tell a soul of how you helped me this evening," she went on to explain, all the while he stood in disbelief at how well she had managed to read his personality, even while injured and distracted.
Without allowing him a chance to respond, Miss Elizabeth darted off through the crowd, heading out alone into the night. Setting the half full bottle of spirits down, which was immediately picked up by a disorderly gentleman passing by, Darcy stalked out into the chilled Spring air. He spotted her silhouette disappearing down an overgrown dirt road. Mr Darcy decided to follow at a safe distance, not wanting to frighten the girl, though needing to ensure she safely made it home. It was an unusual thing, this sense of protectiveness, that had never seemed to cross Darcy's mind before tonight. Something about Miss Elizabeth was intriguing; her colourful way of speaking, her clumsy - yet assured - movements, and her seemingly indifference to those she did not know. He did not feel like she cared about his status or wealth, not like other ladies her age. Her uniqueness was refreshing.
Miss Elizabeth was sure footed in the dark, making it known just how often she walked this path to be so familiar with its twists and turns, overgrown weeds, and the occasional dip in the dirt. A lazy creek ran along the length of the dirt road, eventually breaking through the shrubbery to connect with a large river. Barely pausing in her stride, Miss Elizabeth wove through the tall grass down to the bank of the river. Darcy stood alone in the dark, taking a few moments when he noticed a soft light emanating from behind the tree line just ahead of where he stood. A rickety wooden fence marked the boundary line of the estate, though he could not see much more of the house in the darkness.
"Ouch," a muffled voice said into the night air.
Turning his attention to where Miss Elizabeth had settled herself along the bank of the river, he watched as she undid the handkerchief from her hand before submerging it in the brisk water. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she continued to swish her hand about in the inky blackness. Darcy knew of too many female's, their names lost on him, that would refuse to walk unchaperoned at night, let alone place their injured hand in a night darkened river.
Seemingly pleased with herself, Miss Elizabeth climbed back up the small incline, re-wrapping her hand without paying attention to the man watching from the shadow of a Pine tree. Darcy remained where he was as she moved through the unhinged iron gate that lead into the property where the soft light could be seen glowing through the trees. The state of the yard and the fence surrounding the estate did not give Darcy hope of what the house may look like, though somehow knowing that Miss Elizabeth lived here made it the most beautiful place he had ever laid eyes on.