A pleasanter evening might have existed if Miss Bingley had not insisted on wafting by him every five minutes. He was fairly certain that a pocketwatch could have been set to her regular and unwanted visits.

He was almost ready to turn to his cousin to foment some kind of excuse for an early retirement from the evening, when their host, Lady Bowes, approached with two young women in tow.

"Look lively," Fitzwilliam muttered to Darcy, elbowing his cousin discreetly. Darcy turned, expecting more irritations and disappointments in an evening that saw him longing for the quiet of Pemberley…

When he looked upon the ladies, however, his heart stopped.

Miss Bingley and her friends had, in his experience, done their level best to make Darcy wish for an early demise, and to hasten the process with whatever methods would be most likely to succeed. The sight of Miss Bingley and her companions was almost as unwelcome to him as the sight of his Aunt Catherine and Anne at the same event, as uncharitable and lacking in filial obligation that thought was...

But the two ladies in Lady Bowes' company…

One had fair hair, a halo of curls, and a dress that fully seemed to suit her. Her skin was pale white, her cheeks a light pink, and the dress was soft blue, bringing out the color of her eyes.

She was pretty, quite pretty.

He'd never used the word pretty to describe a woman before. His sister, to be sure, the word could barely begin to describe her many charms. But this blonde lady was pretty, to the point of beauty that would be the envy of the Ton once she was presented.

But the young lady next to her, a half-pace behind...

Her hair was darker, but not black, and her eyes were bright, even fine, causing his throat to tighten so much he needed to swallow down a curse.

She was handsome, more than beautiful, pretty in her own way, but those eyes...

They sparkled with wit, drew him in, threatened to drag him underneath Brighton's waves and bury him there.

Her lips were curved, a rosy pink that promised to smile, and her neck, slender, and her figure, her figure was... it was...

Fitzwilliam nudged him, and he forced himself to take a breath.

Christ above, what was wrong with him? It must've been the drink, he thought, although an astute observer would have noticed he barely touched a drop since arriving that evening.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, may I have your attention for a moment? And Mr. Darcy, always a pleasure to introduce to you two young women I believe will be the talk of the Ton come next week."

"High praise coming from you, my lady. We are delighted to meet them both," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, sweeping into a bow. "Might I beg an introduction?"

Darcy felt rooted to where he stood, unable to move, or even speak.

He could barely breathe.

For she was loveliness personified, and as she glanced from his cousin to him, he went completely still.

Her gaze flickered over his face, and he watched her expression change as if with her thoughts. She did not hide them like the ladies of the Ton, perhaps was not schooled in that way. There was honesty, refreshment, in her face, and a glimmer in her gaze that promised laughter, happiness. She did not smother it with bland affect, like the other young ladies he had met did.

Yet, at least.

"From Hertfordshire, Miss Jane Bennet," as Lady Bowes introduced her, the beautiful blonde smiled, her eyes demure and sweeping low as she curtseyed. She was a sight, but not one that drew Mr. Darcy in and held him fast. "And Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Lady Bowes said, and the younger, the dark-haired one, stepped forward, curtseying low. When she rose, her eyes met his, and he knew.

He had never been a religious man, his father had raised him to be a scholar and a leader to his people, a good brother to his sister, a man of sense and honor, not a man of the cloth.

But in this moment, he believed in destiny, and fate, and a world beyond their own.

"I am honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet," Darcy murmured, and he felt Fitzwilliam's eyes on him as he bowed low himself.

"The pleasure is ours," Miss Bennet, Jane, spoke up.

"I had heard rumors that Lady Bowes was sponsoring young ladies this Season, and I had not expected to be so delighted by your presence, Miss Bennet," Fitzwilliam said, taking a step toward the older Bennet sister. With her pinked cheeks, flushing with the joy of the evening, she was going to be a marvelous bouquet on display this Season, and every eligible man would be dancing around her, so many dandy butterflies eager to make her acquaintance, and something more.

"We've hardly been in London more than a moment, and we already feel the pressures of the city upon us," Miss Elizabeth Bennet said, "however do you stand it, Mr. Darcy?"

She assumed, wrongly, that he spent any time at all in London, and from her sly glance, she was testing him. To find out if he would take a slight against 'beloved' London? Or perhaps if she would fall in loathing of him immediately upon hearing of his vast country estate?

He found he cared little about her opinions one way or the other, so long as he had the chance to know her better.

"I..." He cleared his throat, but before he could continue, Miss Bingley interrupted, sweeping in, the hem of her skirts brushing the floor with a forboding shhh shhh shhh.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy does not care for the city. He's a man who enjoys his privacy, and his lands. Has he told you yet, he owns almost all of Derbyshire, with the jewel being his estate, Pemberley? He hardly tolerates good society, and why should he, when he is able to move amongst the creme? You are lucky to have an introduction with him at all, although surely your acquaintance shall be short." Sharing so much of his personal life with a woman he'd barely met, Miss Bingley's tone was almost vulgar, and when she looked at him with such an unpleasant, possessive simper on her face, he found he had no other option but to give a brief bow of his head. He was speechless at the way she had described him. True, he did not have fondness for a great number of people, but it was out of a love for quiet thinking and deep companionship... not because he believed he was too good for anyone.

He glanced at Elizabeth, just for a moment, but her expression was so unguardedly disgusted, that he knew immediately she was displeased at the thought of being introduced to a man who was apparently high in the instep and had vulgar acquaintances! Miss Bingley had ruined the moment, the very important introduction, had spoiled any attempt he might've made to demure and wait to see what Elizabeth's thoughts had been first... he cold do nothing but turn and retreat from them, face burning from the shame of it.

He walked away quickly. Fine, clever Miss Elizabeth Bennet did not seem to be the type of girl to be much impressed with vast estates, but rather clever jokes and astute observations. And she had his heart, within moments of meeting her... and Miss Bingley had ruined it all with her hateful rudeness.

He did not know how he was going to get through this. For Caroline Bingley to say how much he valued his privacy, a truism if there ever was one, and then to say all that of himself? A man did not brag of his property, of his assets. Only a fool, or worse, an imprudent one did.

Perhaps he would not get through this. Perhaps his heart would give out.

It was not a bad way to die.

"Darcy?" It was his cousin, come to rescue him. "That Bingley chit is intolerable. Can we convince our dear friend to drop her over the side of a bridge, perhaps?" Fitzwilliam stood beside him, and sighed when Darcy did not laugh. "Lady Bowes is, I think, displeased with her, from what I can gather of their furtive eye-movements and expressions."

"I do not want anyone thinking I am high in the instep," he muttered.

"All will be well, cousin. Soon Bingley will come to his senses and bring his sister to heel, and she will stop making both of our lives miserable."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Bingley is a good man. He will not keep a woman in his household, nor allow her to be in Society, if she does not behave. And that was most egregious, I must say."

Darcy snuck a look to where Lady Bowes had fairly cornered Caroline Bingley next to the fireplace, although the pretty young woman had her nose in the air and didn't look much like she was in the mood for repentance.

"You are quite taken aback, Darcy, is something amiss? More than could be?" Fitzwilliam acquired a knowing glint in his eye, as Darcy tried to look anywhere but his friend. "You've never much cared for the opinions of others, is there reason you are bothered by Miss Bingley speaking so crassly about you... in front of two most handsome young ladies? Is one of them the reason for your change of demeanor?"

"Fitz, stop."

"Which is it?" Fitzwilliam looked over his shoulder, and then grinned, "Miss Bennet or her sister, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Neither are handsome enough to tempt me," Darcy blurted out, so flustered at his friend's pestering, that he couldn't stop himself.

A startled gasp caught him, and he looked up, only to find that Miss Elizabeth was not even ten paces from them, and had clearly heard his slight against her and her sister.

She gave him such a look of shocked betrayal it cut him right to his heart. First Miss Bingley's snottish comments about his vast estates...

He had not intended to hurt Elizabeth. But he had.

And she'd heard him. Her eyes caught his, those lovely fine eyes of hers, although this time they didn't sparkle.

He'd snuffed out the light.

"Excuse me, sirs," Miss Elizabeth muttered, giving a deep curtsey, her voice wobbling slightly, and then she fled from him, the sound of her shoes clipping on the wooden floors. She crossed the room, breezing by her sister who was locked in deep conversation with one Mrs. Alscott, causing the blonde Bennet to look up in alarm as Elizabeth exited the room.

"What's all this, then?" Charles Bingley, appearing out of nowhere himself, asked, and Darcy shook his head.

"You need to speak with your sister," Fitzwilliam said, "there are two young ladies here under Lady Bowes' protection, and you would do well not to allow your sister to make sport of them."

Bingley blinked, and then glanced around the room.

"I-"

"Surely we do not blame you for your sister's unkind words, but it is already clear she has set her daggers at them, and has roped in Darcy to her little games," Fitzwilliam said. Darcy could do nothing but stand there, feeling as if he were the biggest clod, wondering how he could possibly, if ever, make things right with Elizabeth Bennet.

"What can be done?" Bingley's forehead wrinkled, and he looked as though he were a child who had misbehaved, and had been caught.

"Keep her close," Fitzwilliam suggested. "Or see that your other sister keeps her in hand. But our Darcy needs to find a wife this Season, and if Miss Bingley has her way, she'll chase off every last eligible woman of quality. So Bingley, hear me," he said, his narrowing as he looked at their other friend. "Do not allow her to interfere. Or else."

Your reviews and comments are so kind, thank you! I hope you are enjoying the story so far...

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- Nora