[ 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)

[ ofprejudice ]

Her focus remained on the keys, sparing no glance upward to Mr. Darcy. Line after line of music was played, and with each line Elizabeth slowly made herself relax. Deep breath – release. It wasn’t as terrible as it could be, perhaps – but she could feel his eyes on her. Perhaps he thought his mere presence would be enough to distract her ( and while yes, it WAS somewhat distracting, she would not let him get the best of her ) –

But oh! then he spoke. The melody was repetitious, and so Elizabeth let her eyes stray from the sheet music to meet his eyes when he addressed her by name. _{Something about his low whisper made a chill run through her spine ( and caused a trace of a smile on her face ).}

“Mr. Darcy, you don’t need to apologize for Lady De Bourgh,” Elizabeth began, eyes flashing quickly to Darcy before falling again to the music, just in time for the page to turn. She only played for a moment before continuing with her thought, “I am most familiar with inappropriate behavior, as you have said yourself, which lies with the majority of my relations.”

It was a snarky reminder to Mr. Darcy, and one that Elizabeth felt decent about, although it did hint ( rather strongly ) at his denied proposal. She felt no grief from the memory, despite acting so rash; he was HARDLY acting as a gentleman would when he proposed! No other answer she could have given would have demonstrated that to him more.

She spoke again, thinking after another page turn of something she wanted most dearly for him to know: “I was not aware you would be in attendance to dinner tonight; Mr. Collins insisted on my coming, but if I had known you were planning to show, I would have found an excuse to stay behind.” Her eyes glance up to his – “I do not mean to cause you anymore pain, Mr. Darcy. You MUST know that.”

    A wince overtook him. She was still angry with him, then, over his request for her hand. The thought ( and the memory ) made him ill. Mr. Darcy wished more than anything to be given the opportunity to recant almost every word of that dreadful day, save his feelings for the woman. He would not regret telling her this, even without a return declaration. That she know how very loved she was seemed utterly important. 

“ Miss Bennet, I wish very much to abolish such a day from both of our recollections. I was a fool. And… I was wrong. ” Here, he was sincere. Behind them, he could feel his aunt staring, but presently, he could not find a single care for her. Instead, his voice grew softer. “ I should not have said such things to you. And I wish I could take them back. I never meant to cause you pain, Miss Bennet. ”

    Her last words caused horror and disgust ( for himself ). While there was truth in what she said, that he was pained by her presence, it could hardly allow Miss Elizabeth to leave when she had been the initial guest. He realised, though, that this was certainly a softer way to imply that she wished not to be in his presence. Once, he would have assumed that she would delight in his attentions – who would not when a man of his station asked for one’s hand? – but now…

“ I have been properly humbled by you, Miss Bennet.  ” A gentle admission, his eyes falling from her face finally in shame. “ I would not have come had I known… I would never force you to be in my company. ” This, though, was verging on a sneer, his lips turned down. “ I know very well your opinion of me. I would not uproot you as a guest here. When I am able, I will leave post haste. ”

(via ofprejudice)

[ ofprejudice ]

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Nearing the end of the fortnight in which Lizzy was staying with the Collins – Lady Catherine INSISTED on their attendance to dinner in her home, meaning Elizabeth was obligated to go, as well. Nerves were high – Would her nephew be in attendance? How would he take to her presence? Was there any way out of such an uncomfortable evening?

She had no answers, and as the time drew nearer, Lizzy had more uncertainties about going. Mr. Collins seemed to think her anxiety stemmed from her choice of attire, as he tried to reassure her several times that Lady Catherine De Bourgh WOULD NOT MIND her dress for she often liked to have the distinction of class illustrated to cleanly. Ah yes, because fashion often plagued Lizzy’s thoughts! How well her cousin knew her! ( and how still, all the worse she felt for Charlotte being married to such a man! )

She was only able to take a breath of relief on arriving, only to find Darcy no where in sight. With Lady Catherine was her daughter, Anne – and Mr. Collins immediately tried to occupy their attention, going on about the church and his future plans, all the while bragging and thanking her relentlessly. It was rather embarrassing to watch.

“Elizabeth Bennet.” – her name cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present as she looked to Lady Catherine. “Come – play for us before we eat,” she said, gesturing to a grand piano situated across the room. “All women should be well-versed in music. My Anne would play, but she was much too frail to take up the craft, and now has no strength to learn.”

As Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, a butler entered: “Mr. Darcy has arrived, my Lady.”
She froze, as though her blood ran cold, at the mention of his name – oh, how INCONSIDERATEshe was merely by being in Lady Catherine’s home! How much Darcy must LOATHE her entirely! And how much worse it was that his eyes were so fixated to her, just as hers were on him!

                                                                     “Miss Bennet – are you deaf?”

“I – I –
               “No I am not, Lady Catherine. I apologize, but I do not play very well. 
               I never had patience for playing as a child. I much preferred to read.”

“Read?” The woman responded, gesturing her nephew over to her, “NONSENSE – I insist you play. Darcy! Help Miss Bennet with the sheet music.”
Turning to Charlotte, she exclaimed: “My niece, Miss Georgiana Darcy, is quite an accomplished musician, if I do say. All she wanted of her brother was a piano forte of her own.”

With no choice in the matter, Lizzy forced herself to stand, walking ( slowly, as if to her own demise ) to the piano bench to take a seat, hands resting gently against the keys.

    His invitation to Her Ladyship’s estate had been ignored for quite some time – fitting that he would seek to escape thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet only to find her once again in the one place he’d wished to retire to ( funny that he would escape to his aunt and funnier still that he had not remembered that Elizabeth’s dearest friend now resided under Lady de Bourgh’s care – truly, he was a great cad ). His entrance and sighting of Miss Bennet had seen to the revision of his trip there, determined suddenly to find an excuse to escape.

    Alas, Lady Catherine deigned to see to his further torture and he found himself beckoned to the pianoforte. He moved not of his own volition, hovering beside the bench. A heavy hand set atop the grand instrument, fingers pressing firmly into the lacquered wood hard enough to push pink skin into a pearly white. His teeth cracked with the force of his bite, nerves drawn so taut he could hardly draw a breath.

    He was prepared for silence, to ignore her. His eyes were drawn, though, to the slender curve of her neck and he wondered idly if she felt just as soft as she looked. The thought was met immediately with a harsh scolding – how repulsive could he be! To think of her in such a way! His fingers pressed firmer. But he could not look away from her, even as Lady Catherine’s voice rose like steam from a cup of tea in the background. It would have grated if he had not felt so damned distracted.

    His movements were stunted, forced, his free hand reaching to turn pages as she pounded through the music. He did not mind much the clumsy notes she sounded if only because her fingers seemed so long and thin ( no, Darcy, you will never know how they felt twined with your own ). And, suddenly, he felt compelled to speak, to hear her voice, to see the fire in her eyes. To be near her for longer than the rest of the page turns.

    His throat cleared, he licked his lips once. “ Miss Bennet. ” In his head, he was allowed the privilege of speaking her Christian name. “ I apologise for my aunt. ” And this was a whisper, meant for her ears alone. “ I’m afraid she is exactly the opposite of myself. Where I lack in appropriate manner of speaking, she makes up for in the inappropriate. ”

(via ofprejudice)

[ ofprejudice ]

“So you do understand – you can COMPREHEND how your proposal could only be taken in jest! Do you know of the pain you have inflicted on my family, on my SISTER? Do you, even for a moment, think that I could POSSIBLY MARRY a man who hurt her so much? Do you know how it pained ME watching dear Jane’s heart break? And you say, despite my family relations and despite my monetary deficiency, that you wish to have my hand? SIR, I do apologize for causing YOUR pain these past months, but I have never acted in a way that could cause you to suspect my desire to marry you.”

Hair clung to wet skin, and Elizabeth could practically feel her teeth chattering from the chill of the rain and from her mere emotions. It was some combination of anger and grief – some mix of surprise and passion that was foreign to her, but it was cleansing to release. So often, Lizzy held back her emotions. NOT NOW.

                 “I can understand your dissatisfaction with my answer, for what RIGHT does
                 someone of my status have to refuse your offer? But, Mr. Darcy, you are the last
                 man I could ever be compelled upon to marry.”

    She was resplendent in her anger. He recalled a line: ‘ She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold. ’ She was, oh, she really was! He did not know when they had become so near to each other; it was a wonder he could concentrate on her words when her lips were so close, begging…begging… It didn’t matter. Not when she accused him so furiously – his eyes betrayed him, though, and his lips parted with the breath he inhaled carefully.

“ You are mistaken, Miss Bennet, ” Mr. Darcy murmured, looking into her eyes. Fine eyes. “ I am not dissatisfied. Not with any right you may or may not have because of your status. ” He saw now how she grieved. He could feel that almost as acutely as he could feel her rejection. That she would make such accusations – some wrong and some…so very right. He would wince if he was not so angry. “ Forgive me, madam, for taking up so much of your time. ” And he fled. To the woman he left behind, he took controlled, measured steps to escape her. But, truthfully, he was DEVASTATED.