"Mr. Darcy, have you heard? Why, the Bennets must be so poor as to throw sense entirely out the window!" Miss Bingley's malicious chuckle chilled him to the bones. The swishing of her skirts as she approached kindled a keen desire within him to flee as far as he could. "To think their mother finds herself utterly ecstatic at the prospect of her daughter marrying - regardless of the person to whom she is betrothed!"
Darcy barely cleared his throat enough to speak, "I hardly consider your brother a bad catch."
"Oh, you speak of Jane," Miss Bingley spat the name as if she herself were a princess of all of Europe speaking of a lowly servant. "Yes, Mrs. Bennet does talk of her aplenty."
Darcy sighed under his breath - assuring himself of a fact that he was uncertain to be true.
"But, you see, it is Eliza of whom I'm speaking. Why, people say her fiancé is in this very room tonight!"
The tightness in his throat threatened to choke life itself out of him.
"Fiancé?" He found himself unable to hear his own voice.
"Mr. Collins certainly makes no secret of the fact - walking around as he is speaking all about it." Caroline Bingley, when unoccupied with ruining his life, served as a decent informant.
"I see." He could not spur himself to say more.
Surely, Elizabeth could not be foolish enough to consider - nay, accept such a man? Unbidden pictures of Elizabeth at Rosings - tied to that toad of a parson - as she cowered before Aunt Catherine emerged in his mind.
The idea of Elizabeth cowering before any human being sounded preposterous - but the facts he'd heard tonight had begun to make him wonder if he truly knew the lady at all. His face frowned in disbelief even as his eyes roamed the room.
It took only half a minute to find someone who may unravel the mystery further - or, at least, to quench his worries.
"Excuse me, Miss Bingley," he spoke just as the woman opened her mouth again, "I'm afraid I have a dance partner to seek."
"Miss Lucas," he said - for the third time in the last six measures of music.
His dance partner, unsurprisingly, raised a brow in query. "I assure you, sir, that there is no requirement for us to converse."
Darcy nodded mutely, unable to chart his emotions into words once more.
How does one manage to ask things tactfully and discretely? His life in London's high society had done its due in exhibiting what flagrant behavior proved to be. Subtle inquisition - he had never encountered yet.
"Is your friend happy?" He spoke quickly at the realization that the dance was almost halfway done.
"My friend?"
He struggled with his increasingly warming chest as he glanced over at Elizabeth - a mere two partners down.
"You mean Elizabeth?" Miss Lucas laughed.
"Yes." His answer was low, compensating for Miss Lucas's lack of control.
"I suppose she is." The lady smiled as she glanced her own way down the line. Darcy barely breathed as he attempted to maintain his own eyes upon the wall. It would not do to display his feelings so blatantly - it would not do at all!
"Her partner, it seems, pleases her better than her previous one." Miss Lucas did not stop speaking.
Unable to resist, Darcy glanced at the view of a blooming Elizabeth smiling and talking as she danced with her partner - a golden-haired, blue-eyed young man who appeared perfectly at ease in Hertfordshire. The pensive look she had sported upon first entrance had melted away into a brilliant smile and sparkling eyes.
Darcy wondered which thought disturbed him more - that she was betrothed to the horrid Mr. Collins, or that she flirted still with other men despite her own affianced state. The gloom of jealousy slowly swallowing his heart tonight indicated that both scenarios were equally painful.
"Is it he?" Darcy asked when the music neared its end.
"Is he what?" Miss Lucas asked before their hands joined one last time.
"Her fiancé." The words sounded evil applied to any man but himself.
"Whose?"
The obligatory applause surrounded them at the dance's conclusion, but neither partners clapped.
"Her partner this dance. Is he - " Darcy swallowed away the rest of his words. He was fast losing his opportunity to glean from his informant, and he was most resolute in his decision not to ask her for another dance again.
His heavy tongue, however, simply refused to cooperate.
"Is something the matter, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Lucas' face, however plain, was kind and sincere at the least.
Darcy watched her carefully, hesitant.
"What ails you, sir?"
He inhaled, and then sighed, before replying, "I mourn the fact that women often exercise little discernment in their choice of husbands."
"You imply, sir, that women have the choice at all."
The answer surprised him - and his eyes refocused on Miss Lucas's intelligent face.
She smiled politely. "Women may wish to discern all we want - but we rely entirely on the fact that men would choose to ask."
It was unfortunate, most unfortunate indeed, that his mindless meandering after such mystifying words caused him to stumble into the creature he currently most disdained.
"Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire!" The odious parson cried before suddenly standing as tall as his limited stature allowed him to. "I am most honored!"
Darcy could not hide his glare, nor the brewing storm in his heart.
"Whatever could you be or want?" Pride, mingled with pain, overtook his manners.
"Oh, you simply must pardon my clumsiness. You see, I am a man confused, as seems your holy highness may be. Of course, I am not one to say that you are holy, though am most certain that the nephew of my lofty patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh must indeed be a man devout. I need no evidence of the fact to see that - "
"Mr. Collins," Darcy growled, hands twitching, "is there anything that I could help you with?"
"Oh, yes! You are most helpful, sir. You see, I had the recent honor to propose marriage to my cousin Elizabeth, who most indelicately - however kindly - informed me that she was otherwise taken. You frown, sir, because, you see, I am just as confused as you. My patroness, the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh had just said that my fair cousins must be mostly available and unwanted - and that I ought to mend family ties by marrying one of them, preferably whoever's age would most suit. She believes - that is, Lady Catherine - that marriage between cousins is most preferable for its ability to unite families, to preserve wealth, to - "
"Mr. Collins!" Darcy's mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion nearly caused him to stumble in the presence of such a barrage of conversation. He sighed. "Is there anything pressing that I may help you with? I would otherwise much prefer to return to my solitude."
"Ah! Yes! Of course! Pardon my neglect. You see, my cousin Elizabeth has acknowledged that her fiancé shall be present in the ball tonight. It has been most difficult, however, in locating his person. I have not a name, you see, as my cousin has been overly coy in not stating his identity. I, in fact, have begun to doubt that this man existed at all! Hertfordshire is no large town, sir, and I - "
"She is not engaged to you?" The question flew out by its own will, brimming of hope and confusion.
"Sir?"
"Elizabeth." Darcy nearly grabbed the parson by the collar. "You say you proposed - but that she is not engaged to you."
"No, sir. You see, Mr. Darcy - nephew to my great patroness - she specifically said that she - "
"She said she's engaged?"
"Well, you see, sir, her particular words had been that her heart belongs not to me. Whomever it may belong to is a constant mystery that even a man of my wisdom and perception cannot decipher. You see, she has said that - "
"She rejected you," Darcy continued, unfettered.
The parson squirmed slightly. "I - I believe her intent was to accept. It was merely that her honor was already engaged to - "
"Excuse me, Mr. Collins."
Darcy sprung after the headstrong figure marching out into the balcony, deserting her cousin in his wake.
A/N: Here goes a determined Darcy! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Writing this story is a break for me from the gloom and doom of "Switched" :)