Disclaimer: I don't own anything, shame really but oh well, what can you do.
A/N:Hello everyone! This is my first Jane Austen fic cos I only recently got introduced to this story. It's a pride and prejudice one and I'm sorry for my complete lack of knowledge on this subject.
Chapter 1-His mental health
It was indeed very rare to see Mr. Darcy flustered and anxious but on such occasion, he was clearly out of sorts with his nerves.
Rosings, was his current residence, though not by will. Simply being here seemed to agitate him to no end. Through the past weeks of his stay he could do nothing but worry and stress and fret waiting for the impending news that will decide the well being of his own mental health.
He had found himself unquestionably loathing Mr. Collins due to the small piece of nauseous news he had only recently gleaned from his dear aunty, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Even the memory of that evening seemed to dislodge his composure.
He walked into his aunt's study in his usual cold demeanor and found her seated rigidly at her little writing desk. She was immersed in a letter that held untidy spiky writing which she was scowling over.
He bowed stiffly and addressed his "dear" aunty in his usual haughty drawl: "Aunt."
"Fitzwilliam. Come sit, you must be wearied from your long journey. Come sit and rest."
He obeyed diligently and sat in uncaring manner on a large overstuffed couch and watched his aunt continue to read the letter in her hands. Her expression slowly became annoyed and impatient as she tittered over the offending material in her hands.
"If I may be so bold, aunt, but may I ask you what troubles you so about that correspondence?"
"The Parson which resides on my property is currently away at the property he is to inherit to choose a bride from among his cousins. He says the second eldest, a Miss Elizabeth, has caught his eye and he is expecting to bring her home as his wife extremely soon. Why he feels I should know, I cannot fathom."
Darcy swallowed the lump in his throat at the mention of such a character and wondered if this could be just an unfortunate coincidence. "Pray tell aunty, what does he say of her character?"
His aunt glanced at him inquiringly but answered nonetheless: "He is rather vague about her character, but he recounts her as a beauty and rather spirited lady. This Miss Bennet has apparently captured Mr. Collins' interest."
"Miss Bennet?" Darcy could not help but feel sick over this unexpected news.
"Yes, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, must you repeat me? Are you quite well Fitzwilliam, you look rather pale."
"No, no aunt, I am quite well thank you. I am simply weary from my journey. If you'll excuse me aunt, I would like to rest."
"Why of course child, go, my servant will show you to your quarters."
Mr. Darcy slowly retreated to his rooms and briskly dismissed all the servants so that he could think in peace. When finally left alone, he paced back and forwards from the window to the table. When he finally had the presence of mind to settle down, he poured himself a snifter of brandy and gulped down the fine alcohol, slowly savoring the warmth and comfort it gave as it settled in his stomach. He must ride down to Longbourn immediately to stop this matrimony but how could he. No, he could not interfere; it would be scandalous indeed if the composed, self-righteous Mr. Darcy tried to interfere with Miss Bennet's affairs. If he did, society would surely talk and he could not endure his Lizzie to suffer through such occasion. But no, he was also rather aware of the tongue lashing he was likely to receive if he incurred Elizabeth's displeasure.
No, he must be patient and hope that Lizzie would be sensible and keep both her scheming obsessive mother and the slimy Mr. Collins at bay. Easier said than done really, he was already feeling the strain of not knowing the fate of his beloved.
The memory was one he would dearly love to discard, but he could not for his anxiety was snipping sharply at his senses as he fidgeted nervously within the ballroom of Rosings, impatiently surveying the crowd which were gathered in a glamorous mass around the grand room.
That very afternoon, his aunt had informed him of the homecoming of Mr. Collins and his newly acquired wife. A heavy sense of dread had settled in his stomach ever since. He simply had to look upon the couple with his own eyes before he would allow himself to believe such an atrocity, before he would allow himself to give up and brood over the only woman he ever wanted and could never have.
As his eyes made another impatient sweep of the ballroom, he caught sight of a mass of familiar black hair weaving through the crowd. His heart dropped. She was here, which could only mean one thing; she was married to that despicable man and was forever out of his reach. Despair settled in his veins as he allowed himself to watch her one last time, though she was not dressed in the splendor of the other women in the room, she out shorn them with little effort. His thoughts were confirmed by the many pairs of entranced male eyes and envious female gazes which followed in her wake.
She was dressed in a simple emerald green gown with her dark curls pinned simply with an array of pearls contrasting within the dark mass. Unlike many of her fellow peers, she wore no jewellery but her eyes out sparkled even the brightest diamond rings which were carefully placed in perfect positions to catch the light and the attentions required.
As he watched, she spoke animatedly with someone blocked from his view and she smiled a joyous, mischievous smile which he had always admired.
So she was happy, then perhaps this Mr. Collins character was not so terrible. Perhaps better suited to her than he himself felt he was. The fact that she was happy to be in the event of the matrimony made his shattered heart sink even further. If this was the case then he must retreat immediately to his rooms and regroup his emotions and thoughts till he could face her again and offer her his respectful congratulations.
He made to retreat up the private staircase but spotted his dear aunt making her way through the crowd. Quickly, as not to be noticed by her, he spun on his heel to make a hasty path to his nearest possible escape: The balcony.
Upon entering the cooler atmosphere of the outside balcony he was greeted with a startled gasp. He twirled around at an alarming speed and observed a shocked Elizabeth Bennet standing before him. In the dim moonlight, she almost seemed to glow and his heart skipped a beat knowing his loss.
As suddenly as it came, her shocked demeanor left her as she once again smoothed the expressions from her face. She dipped a modest curtsey and he bowed, acknowledging her sudden controlled expression. Choosing to speak before he lost his nerve, Darcy tried to suppress his sadness: "Elizabeth…" he found himself unable to address her as Mrs. Collins "Elizabeth…I must offer my congratulations as to…"
"Fitzwilliam! There you are. Oh, and Elizabeth also. Good, come, Mr. Collins is seeking you."
Lizzie cast a strange glance at Mr. Darcy and proceeded after the haughty lady Catherine as the crowd parted for her. Unable to give up his last moments with her, he followed her through the crowd towards the entrance hall.
On arrival, a short slimy excuse of a man stood in a hunched attitude under the splendor of his patron. He stuttered absurdly: "Great lady, I…I must than…thank you for your splendid hospital…tality. I wish you a good…goodnight. Come Lizzie, we must depart."
His temper flared within him, how such a man could deserve a woman of her caliber. By his sides, his fists clenched and with a lapse in his control he took a step forward just as the parson laid his hand on her arm. But then he spoke again: "Come…come Lizzie, Charlotte is already waiting."
Darcy stopped dead and called after the duo: "Wait…"his aunt threw him a withering look "Wait, Mr. Collins. May I be so rude as to inquire who this lady Charlotte is?"
Mr. Collins spun on the spot and instantly let go of Elizabeth's arm much to Darcy's relief. "Ahh…Mr. Darcy, how very…very rude of me, Lady Charlotte does me the honor of being my wife. You have not heard of our union?"
Relief and exhilaration seared through his blood but he suppressed the celebratory feelings for later. "No, I am afraid, I have been ignorant of such an occasion, and I offer you my congratulations."
"Thank you indeed Mr. Darcy, you have been too kind. Goodnight."
Darcy nodded and watched as Mr. Collins once again resumed his grip on Miss Bennet's arm and towed her out toward the carriage. Before she left, he easily caught her eye and the strange look she directed at him, before she turned once more and walked away beside her abnormally short cousin, towering over him in a gracile manner.
That night, within the privacy of his own chambers, Darcy allowed himself a smile and recalled all the overflowing emotions and celebrated.
Well! That's the first chapter done! What did you think? Tell me now! Review, review, review. Oh, just so you know, this story will be written through the point of views of Darcy and Lizzie and probably various other characters. It'll change so watch out for that.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed that. Love, C.