Authors note: I do not own any characters created by Jane Austen. Full credit goes to her for all situations and information mentioned in her book Pride and Prejudice, the storyline of this fanfic is all me and the little voice in my head.

I honestly couldn't believe that I was going to be stuck here for the next who knew how many months.

Everything was just so - so rural.

The people, their interests, their choice of conversation, their apparent need to just promote themselves to anyone who might turn out to be a potential husband.

Especially that one woman, the one with more daughters than she could obviously afford.
Why didn't she just give them tags, proclaiming they were available?

Really, we had not been here for more than a fortnight, and already every man in the vicinity with a daughter who was out, seemed to have made our acquaintance. I might have found it entertaining, were it not for the fact that it was obvious they had quickly expanded their interest from Bingley to include me as well.
After all the advances I'd had to rebuke from Miss Bingley lately, I honestly could not say I was surprised, but it was very unpleasant none the less.

The very first night of our stay, we had been invited to a ball, organized by one of the town's upstanding citizens. From the very beginning it was clear that the larger part of the women had come there in search of a potential spouse. It should have come as no surprise that our entrance had been greeted with whispers and keen stares. At the beginning of the evening, I had the luck of being an unknown. Whereas Bingley's name and even worth were heard throughout the room, I was still something of an enigma.

Unfortunately, though, the powers of provincial gossip proved to exceed his fervent wish for anonymity, and soon enough, my name and value as well were passed from one eager woman to another. The attention I had thus far gotten as a friend of the most sought-after bachelor of the evening had increased tenfold as it occurred to them that I was 'even more of a catch', as I heard one woman say to a man I presumed was her husband.

More than ever before I wondered why I had not insisted to remain at home, if not at Pemberley, then at least at Netherfield. Although the library was not as complete as the one at Pemberley, and even though the gardens were not quite as wel kept, it would have been a definite improvement when compared to the eyes I could continuously feel on my back, trying to determine my desirability, making me want to crawl away.

It was at this moment that Miss Bingley decided to express her concurrence with his, apparently obvious, disapproval of the nights festivities. Were it not for the fact that she so blatantly pursued the same union every one of the women present seemed to seek, I would have gladly joined her in commenting upon the general behaviour of those he wished to avoid. As it was, however, I prefered to seek out my friend and inquire what his evening had been like. I had seen him dance with the one girl who immediately caught every man's eye, but did not know whether any other woman had been honoured with his attention.

Very soon, though, it became clear that the blonde beauty was very much the only girl he noticed. Even during our conversation, brief though it was, he would repeatedly sneak a glance in her direction, even smiling to her. It was obvious, that at least one mother would go home a satisfied woman tonight. We talked for a few more minutes, and soon one of Bingley's most endearing traits emerged: whenever he was happy, truly content, he would not stop until those he held dear were the same. Unfortunately, on this occasion that consisted of trying to persuade me to consider dancing with one of the other women so numerously present.

Little did he know that at that moment, dancing was the last of my needs. A quiet room, a good book, perhaps even a single malt were the things foremost on my mind now, although it was questionable whether I would be able to enjoy those pleasures any time soon. I had never been able to either confirm or deny whether Bingley was aware of the direction his sister's attention took, but her ever persistent proximity had made it nigh impossible for me to ever truly be at ease. It was that which I truly missed most about home: its sophisticated peace, accompanied by the quiet presence of my sister.

Bingley, however, seemed very determined to have me change my mind, if not about women in general, then at least about my dancing with one of them tonight. As he went on and on about how pleasant the girls present were, I finally tried to halt him:

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," I said, hoping to persuade him to shift his attentions back to the beauty. Even then, he pointed out her sister to me, so that I saw myself forced to give a harsher response than I normally would have:

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

As I turned back, though, I found myself admiring the strength that spoke from her eyes, a thought that would linger for the rest of the night.

A/N Okay, first of all: I am so sorry for the delay in updating. Unfortunately, I can't give any guarantee that it's going to improve. I had something of a horrible year, so now not only do I have to retake 5 of my finals, I also have to read about 3000 pages of literature from the middle ages up to now before September, and I actually have to translate about half of them to the modern language before I can even start, so I'm going to be busy as it is. I also write as I go, so I'm a bit dependent on when inspiration strikes and when I actually have the time to sit down and write. I do promise, however, that I will not (ever!) abandon a story - I will finish them all, I just honestly don't know when. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading and feel free to let me know what you thought!