AN:
This is my first Fanfiction, please be kind. Critical analysis is welcome! Please read, review and comment.
"She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me." The words kept echoing in Elizabeth's mind as she walked away, fuming. She couldn't find Charlotte, and all her sisters were dancing—except for Mary.
With a huff, Lizzy turned and went towards Mary, who was absorbed in her book. Startled out of her reading, Mary looked up as Lizzy sat down next to her.
"That insufferable man! He said I am not handsome enough to tempt him!" Lizzy burst out.
"Why are you angry then, Lizzy? There's obviously something wrong with his eyes," Mary responded with a wry tone.
Lizzy was momentarily snapped out of her anger by Mary's retort. "Well, I never knew you could be witty! It's much better than sermonizing," Lizzy teased.
Mary gave Lizzy a reproachful look before returning to her book.
Soon, Lizzy found herself dancing again, a smile returning to her lips as she moved gracefully across the floor, her earlier anger fading into amusement at the absurdity of Mr. Darcy's remark.
Darcy's gaze lingered upon the young woman with captivating eyes, he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, a magnetic force pulling him towards her presence in a manner he couldn't comprehend.
Unaware of the subtle shifts within himself, he unconsciously began to manoeuvre around, positioning himself strategically to steal glimpses of her enchanting countenance lost to rational thought.
Jane's heart overflowed with happiness as she basked in Mr. Bingley's affection, envisioning a future with him. Yet, beneath her joy, a flicker of concern lingered, fuelled by the absence of any prophetic visions involving Mr. Bingley.
In the midst of conversation with Mr. and Miss Bingley, a sudden surge signalled the arrival of a vision. Swiftly excusing herself, Jane seized Lizzy's arm and whisked her away to the veranda, urgency in her steps.
Lizzy was used to Jane's behaviour and let herself be dragged. Jane rarely got visions which overwhelmed her completely, when she did it was an indication of that the vision was of great importance.
She remembered her last vision ; a young girl on the verge of eloping with a scoundrel. Her family, particularly Mr. Bennet and Lizzy, had managed to intervene and prevent the dire outcome. Even now Jane couldn't discern the significance of the girl
Now, as Jane allowed the vision to wash over her, she braced herself for the vision to overtake her.
Jane turned to Lizzy, bewilded. "I saw a man," she began, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it wasn't Mr. Bingley. He was a soldier, and he seemed so... tormented, haunted, almost. I couldn't discern his identity, only that I'm meant to aid him somehow."
Lizzy furrowed her brow in concern. "How can we assist him if we don't even know who he is? We usually receive a name or some sort of clue."
Jane sighed softly. "I suppose he'll enter my life in due time. And when he does, I'll recognize him and offer whatever help I can."
"You're a touch disappointed it isn't Mr. Bingley, aren't you?" Lizzy asked gently.
Jane hesitated for a moment before responding. "I can't say I'm disappointed, really. After all, I've only known Mr. Bingley for an evening. But he is quite pleasant and remarkably gentlemanly."
"Let's return inside," Jane suggested, her tone shifting as she once again took Lizzy's arm, dragging her back indoors. "Mother will surely be concerned."
Darcy stood there in the shadows, watching silently. He had followed the fine-eyed young woman, Miss Elizabeth Bennet—he now knew her name. He could hardly believe she was related to the loud and shrill Bennet women he had met earlier.
As he listened to the conversation between Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, confusion and bewilderment crept over him. "What did it all mean?" Darcy wondered. Their words seemed to carry an underlying significance, one that eluded him entirely. He hoped it was merely a secret code between sisters.
Yet, a particular fragment of their conversation troubled him deeply. "What did they mean about Bingley?" he pondered, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty.
So deep in thought that Darcy spent the entire evening in a confused state, even forgetting the irritating presence of Miss Bingley.
"Peace doesn't last long," Darcy sighed as he sank into his armchair. The carriage ride back to Netherfield had been anything but pleasant, thanks to Miss Bingley's relentless criticism of the local populace. From the moment they started their journey, her sharp tongue had not ceased its assault.
Upon entering Netherfield, Caroline had immediately called for refreshments. Ever the gentleman, Darcy had no choice but to follow the party to the drawing room. Tea was served, and the service was efficiently cleared away by the servants. Yet still, Miss Bingley continued her tirade, her voice grating on Darcy's already frayed nerves.
Sometimes, Darcy found himself imagining throttling her, a dark thought that oddly helped him maintain his composure. It provided a perverse sort of solace amidst her incessant chatter.
Finally, he could endure no more. Making his excuses, he escaped to his chamber with unparalleled relief. "Miss Bingley makes one relish one's solitude," he mused, closing the door behind him.
In the quiet of his room, Darcy's thoughts drifted away from the vexing Miss Bingley and towards a more pleasant subject. The image of Elizabeth Bennet, with her bright eyes and intelligent expression, filled his mind. Her presence was a stark contrast to the exhausting company he had just left.
As he prepared for bed, he found himself unable to shake the memory of Elizabeth. Her lively eyes and captivating face seemed to follow him, lingering in his thoughts long after he had extinguished the lamp. That night, was the first time, he dreamt of her, the dreams filled with a sense of longing he could not yet fully understand.