Chapter I

The Meryton Assembly

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy looked around the room in distaste. He would not be here if Bingley had not forced him to be. He was in no mood to be around humans.

Mr. Bingley and his sisters walked around the hall, being introduced to everyone as Mr. Darcy stood in the background with the occasional nod of acknowledgement. There was one family who sparked the party’s interest in particular, for it was not long after entering the room that they were bombarded by a man and his wife, with three young girls trailing behind.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” said Bingley. “What a pleasure. I take it this is your wife and your lovely daughters I have heard about?”

“Indeed, Mr. Bingley. May I introduce Mrs. Bennet and three of my five daughters, Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary. My two youngest are already dancing.”

“Pleasure,” said Mr. Bingley. “And may I introduce my sisters Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, my brother in law Mr. Hurst, and my friend Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy stood rigid with his jaw tightly clenched, his eyes staring unblinking at the second eldest Bennet girl, trying remarkably hard not to breathe. What was her name? The very moment she had come near him he had become overwhelmed with a thirst unlike any other he had felt in his two hundred years on the planet. It took every ounce of his will power to not throw her to the ground and sink his teeth into her neck right then and there. He could feel his fangs involuntarily drop into his mouth, where they would surely be visible if he were to talk. He had to get out of there…

But Mr. Darcy couldn’t move. He couldn’t separate himself from that incredible smell, couldn’t stop the fantasies running through his head of what she might taste like. He could almost hear her scream as he would slowly drain her, enjoying every minute of it.

He then realized that the grouping was dispersing. Mr. Bingley was offering his arm to the eldest Bennet girl, and the youngest of the three (Mary, was it?) was moving in the direction of the pianoforte. He realized that he was going to be left in the middle of the room with her. In a moment of panic, Mr. Darcy gave a quick nod and practically ran to sit in the opposite side of the room. He had to get his thoughts straight.

About an hour later, Mr. Darcy was sitting in the same spot, much better in control of his thirst. Mr. Bingley came towards him, nothing but smiles and talk of his beautiful dance partner, the eldest Miss Jane Bennet. It was not the first time Darcy had seen him entranced by a pretty smile and elegant figure. Soon, however, the talk was moving towards Darcy.

“Come, Darcy, I cannot have you sitting here in this stupid manner,” said Bingley. “There are many ladies in this room without partners who are uncommonly pretty.”

Already angry at Bingley for having to be here in the first place, Darcy’s temper flared at being asked to dance, a pass time he was not very fond of, as how close you are to your partner in many of them. Darcy did not think he could easily handle being that close to a woman, not tonight.

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said he, hoping that would drive Bingley off.

“Oh, come now. There is her sister Elizabeth behind you. She is very agreeable, is she not?” Bingley was gesturing at the girl. Darcy held his breath to make sure none of her scent reached him.

“Perfectly tolerable, I daresay. But not handsome enough to tempt me.” This line did its job of driving Bingley off, even if it was a large lie. At that moment, there was nothing Darcy would rather do than hold that girl close to him, breathing in her wonderful aroma. But that was not possible. If he were to get any closer to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Mr. Darcy did not think he could control himself.

···

Elizabeth Bennet stood to the side of the dancers, staring at her feet. She did not think Mr. Darcy had meant for her to hear. But to be called ‘perfectly tolerable’? Her cheeks flamed at the remembrance of the words.

Suddenly her close friend Charlotte Lucas was walking towards her. She no doubt noticed her sullen attitude. But Lizzie would not be pitied. She smiled brightly at her friend.

“Charlotte, I have the most amusing story for you.” She went on to tell her all about the ridiculous Mr. Darcy.

Charlotte looked a little worried. “He has not offended you?” she asked.

Lizzie smiled through the inner stabbing pain. “Of course not,” she lied. “I care nothing of his thoughts, even if he is the wealthiest man in the room.”

Not completely convinced, Charlotte moved on to talk of other things. She had observed from close by Lizzie’s introduction to Mr. Darcy. It was not hard to see his attention to her. He had been boring holes into her unknowing face, with an expression that could almost be considered pure hatred. But Charlotte knew it as something else. She could see that her friend had caught the eye of the tall, dark man, and would not be surprised if this wasn’t the end of their acquaintance.

As the night wore on, Lizzie danced and went on as if nothing had happened. However, she was not able to ignore the staring eyes of one very irritable looking man standing in the corner. Lizzie thought that he was only looking to find more fault, to criticize her. But what was going through the head of Mr. Darcy was very different.