"Oh God, we're late. We may as well not even show up," Darcy thought, looking out the window of the carriage.
He didn't want to go to this…this public assembly anyways. He didn't know anyone. To make matters worse, he was sitting in a carriage with Miss Bingley. She was the blunt of his problems now.
He had wanted to stay at Netherfield alone, but then she said she would too. He would rather go to a strange ball than risk a lifetime bound to Miss Bingley. He'd only been in the country a week and he was exhausted. This, plus the stress of his failure with Georgiana meant he was consistently getting migraines. He could feel one now, blooming behind his left eye.
"Look at this! Oh, this will be marvelous!" Bingley grinned as they pulled up to the hall. Darcy could hear some lady's shrieking type of laugh from inside the carriage. His left eye throbbed a little more.
"I think you're thinking what I am, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said, leaning towards him. He froze a little and just nodded to the lady. She smiled and followed her sister from the carriage.
He put the heel of his hands against his eyes for a moment, relishing in the quiet and dark.
Failure
He cringed at the thought.
"Sir?" The footman called into the carriage. Darcy snapped up and rushed to follow Bingley. Walking late into a ball was one thing, doing it alone was another.
But when he caught up to them he was met with tangible silence from the hall as everyone stared at them. Some people were openly gawking. One lady was counting with her finger! God, this was embarrassing. He felt a little frozen and could only stare as openly as they did.
Bingley smiled at the hall and spoke loudly with a man called Sir Lucas.
"We got a little lost in the dark," Bingley said, "no matter, we're here now and I anticipate a lovely evening!" Sir Lucas gave a bellowing laugh that made Darcy jump a little.
People started to swarm and chatter. They hovered and buzzed amongst each other, making his head worse.
"10,000 a year!"
He groaned internally. He hadn't expected or wanted his damnable reputation following him here! "Darcy was it? Old name that. I hear he owns half of Derbyshire. I should make sure my girl gets a dance from him."
He felt like his face would melt off, and maybe crack a tooth from the pressure of not screaming. He wanted to go back home to Pemberley with Georgiana. He hated everyone in this hall. The token blurs started to obscure patches of his vision.
"Mr Darcy," Miss Bingley said, sliding over to him. He froze again as he looked at her. "The dancing here is sub par. They could do with an example."
Nothing sounded worse than jumping around, touching strangers while trying to not fly to pieces. The throb of the crowd speaking pulsed against his nerves. And this lady wanted to dance.
Damn, he hated social convention.
He danced with Miss Bingley, which was a torture. He then danced with Mrs. Hurst, which was a different but evolving torture. He was going to sit out the rest of the dance. Ladies could do it. They could break a nail and get a pass to not talk to anyone else the rest of the dance. He was always so jealous of that trick.
He haunted the walls, desperately trying to find the darkest parts of the room. But people still kept coming to talk to him.
"Mr. Darcy, where did you say you were from?" They knew! They all knew! They had scrutinized each detail of his worth before seeing his face. His pounds per annum, the number of properties he had, who his uncles and aunt were. And most notably: that he had no wife. They were just as keen to rob him of his solitude as Miss Bingley was.
Bingley bounded over to him, cutting through the mess of people to talk to Darcy. Maybe Bingley had seen his plight and was coming to send him home—alone.
"Come Darcy! I must have you dance!" Bingley said, "I hate to see you standing by yourself in such a stupid manner! You had much better dance!"
Bingley was goading him, which was usually funny, but with this migraine and his total exposure, it was unbearable. And Georgiana hadn't written since she'd been at Pemberley, though Miss Annesley had.
He broke a little.
"I certainly shall not," he shot, "you know how I detest it, unless I'm particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly? It would be intolerable. I only know you're sisters and it would be a punishment to stand up with anyone else." Bingley's eyes grew a little wide and embarrassed. Darcy felt a streak of shame that made his eyes squint. He felt a little nauseous. Or was that the migraine?
"I wouldn't be so fastidious as you for a kingdom," Bingley laughed. "I haven't met so many pleasant girls in all my life, and several of them are uncommonly pretty."
That may be, but he was closer to shattering like glass than he was to dancing and gaily chattering with a head hunting stranger. Hunting his particular head! And Georgiana's by extension. Whichever woman was successful would be irrevocably tied to him and Georgiana for life!
"You're dancing with the only pretty girl in the room," Darcy said, trying to get Bingley to go away.
Bingley gushed about his partner, which Darcy didn't really expect.
"There's her sister. She's very agreeable and I dare say pretty. Let me ask my partner to introduce you!" Bingley said. Darcy was so… so… Gah! He felt like jumping through the window. He didn't want to get married!
"Which do you mean?" Darcy said, feigning to look where Bingley gestured to the stairs. He looked in the direction, slowly, delicately, and squinted a bit to try to see. He saw sharp streaks from the candles, too many people with fuzzy details. A dark haired lady stood near a wall. He blinked once to try to clear his head.
Bah! It wasn't worth it now. He wanted to go outside.
"She's tolerable I suppose, but handsome enough to tempt me. I don't want to humor girls slighted by other men. You best return to your partner's smiles, you're wasting your time with me," Darcy said quickly.
He just wanted everyone to get away from him right now. He wasn't going to come back to this little town! He could afford to be rude to get his solitude.
"You're being an ass," Bingley chided him quietly.
Darcy felt the rebuke, and saw the disappointment in his friend's face before he left.
Well, now Darcy felt worse. He was ruining his friend's reputation in the new neighborhood. Like Bingley hadn't shifted his whole life to help him. He needed to make it better.
But not yet, Darcy made his way to an empty chair in a darkened corner and sat down. It was next to an older lady and he made some effort to try to be cordial with her. But his abilities, which were limited at best, were further handicapped by the migraine. He got up to try to converse with the neighbors.
Darcy tried to repair the damage he'd done to Bingleys reputation. But he squinted and could hardly make out what the people around him were saying. It was all he could do to not bring his hands to his eyes. He felt dizzy at points and so would abandon conversations to find a seat.
Eventually he just gave up, waited in a shadow and ignored Miss Bingley until the dance concluded.
In the shadows, Darcy noticed a particular laugh. He liked it, it felt very genuine. While it was not infrequent, it didn't occur overly often. Something had to cause those laughs. They weren't giggles or titters readily deployed to keep a person's attention. These laughs seemed to burst from a happy soul who had seen or heard something delightful.
And it wasn't Bingleys laugh, though that came often as well. No, this was feminine. He wanted to see who it was.
But not now. Now he felt like putting his head in a vice and leaving it there.
When they got back into Bingley carriage, he, like Bingley, sighed. Darcy leaned forward and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Were you all in a competition to embarrass me tonight?" Bingley said. Darcy heard by the direction of his voice that he was looking at his sisters.
"Oh please Charles. We'll be fine," Miss Bingley said, "did you hear how quickly your and Mr. Darcy's income flew around the hall?"
"So?" He said, "that doesn't mean you can be cruel! They all seemed lovely, but your behavior may have ruined this for us."
Darcy felt a little kick to the toe of his boot.
"I'm talking to you too," Bingley told him. Darcy squinted at Bingley as he lifted his head. Bingley looked a little compassionate towards him.
"I'm sorry," Darcy mumbled. He did feel ashamed at how his behavior ruined Bingley's first evening in the neighborhood. But Miss Bingley was correct, they would be fine. They were too rich and well connected to not be overly welcomed. And Bingley could make friends so easily this was hardly a setback.
"Oh Charles! Don't bother Mr. Darcy! He-" Miss Bingley said, but Darcy quickly tuned out her voice and went back to holding his head.
He wondered about that laugh. He'll have to listen to the neighbors to try and find her again. Maybe when he wasn't in such a rotten mood.