[ ofprejudice ]

His admission that he was wrong caught Lizzy off-guard, nearly causing her to miss play the piece of music in front of her. It was so out of character, for a man who had so much PRIDE and was as VAIN as he. Could it be that she had misread his character? Could he, perhaps, have a side to him that she had yet to see?

It was nearly inconceivable, but not impossible. Her eyes flashed to his face, fingers dancing across the keys ( as the song was nearly finished ) – and she found herself casting him a soft smile. “Mr. Darcy, you caused me no pain; do not worry yourself with that thought any longer. I thank you for showing such remorse at the way you proposed to me, and at your request, I shall try to suppress thoughts of that day, for that’s all that can be done now.”

The last page of the score was turned to, and Lizzy was fully intending to play the remainder in silence, because she did not consider anything else as needed to be said. But Mr. Darcy’s voice again softly broke through the piano, for Elizabeth’s ears only. She did not look at him, as she was uncertain she wanted to see the expression that went with such vulnerable words. She was now certain that there was SOMETHING more to Mr. Darcy than she was aware of. Perhaps, not all was seen from his careful exterior.

The music ended on a minor note, leaving the room in a most uncomfortable, eerie atmosphere ( for Elizabeth, who had heard his words ). She had the realization, as she glanced up to Mr. Darcy, who was no longer focused on her as she was him, that this may very well be the last time she would be in his presence. As he said, he would leave when he is able, and she would return to Longbourn shortly, and their paths would almost certainly have no reason to again cross. Why did this realization make a pit form in her stomach – make her heart feel heavy in her chest?

“Thank you, Miss Bennet. That was – something,”  remarked Lady Catherine, her eyes seeming disinterested in the mere conversation with Elizabeth. Turning to Collins, she again stated: “If my Anne had been less ill as a child, she would play extraordinarily well by now, and we would not have been subjected to such mediocrity this evening.” 

Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy upon standing from the bench, her head bowing politely. 
                                                                                                    “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

    So she was eager for his departure! He could see it so clearly, hear it as she thanked him. The conclusion of her piece reflected that of his soul and he BROKE with it. Was it so wrong of him to hope that she would argue? Not beg, never beg. But that she would reject this proposal as well? He had hoped so keenly for it. ‘ Mr. Darcy, please do not think to leave. You are a guest here as well,’ purred the Miss Bennet in his mind. The reality of her sneered at his very name.

    Lady de Bourgh’s temperment was met with silence. He had no wish to comment on her daughter, nor on Elizabeth’s playing ( which, truthfully, had quickly been forgotten to be replaced by her harmful acceptance of his leaving ). His attentions remained transfixed on the young woman, his shock and hurt alight in bright eyes. But he realised his mistake, how rude of him to stare, and Mr. Darcy dropped his gaze.

“ Miss Bennet, ” he murmured, waist bent in a stiff bow. Wounded! He was wounded, surely as physically as if a bayonet had been pushed through his ribs and gutted him of his heart. Elizabeth held the weapon, taunted him with the beating of his life force in her palm, bloody and all hers. He was wounded and she knew where it hurt most. Yet he could not be angry with her. Did he not deserve such treatment?

    With little else to say, Mr. Darcy turned at once and crossed to her Ladyship. An exchange was had, hushed on his part and exclaimed on hers ( “ Leave already! Fitzwilliam, shame on you! After all I have done to ensure your lush comfort! ” ). She had done nothing, of course, and the argument meant little to him. Half a sentence barely finished from his aunt, he passed out the great doors unceremoniously and without another word.

(via ofprejudice)