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Too Gentlemanly

Too Gentlemanly

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Mr. Darcy: Controlling, arrogant, enraging… and unfairly handsome.

Mr. Darcy had grown unused to female society during his five years of seclusion after Georgiana had her illegitimate child. That was why he accidentally insulted Mrs. Bingley’s sister. And why he kept thinking about her.

Elizabeth Bennet thought that Fitzwilliam Darcy was a grand philanthropist: His rudeness provided everyone with a handsome and rich man to hate. But why, if he was actively determined to sneer at all the company, had he bothered to attend their assembly? Still, he was a very handsome man.

Darcy needed to overcome his bad first impression if he wanted Elizabeth's affection. But he was rich, handsome and clever.

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The Netherfield party arrived late to the Meryton Assembly rooms. Elizabeth was already dancing when Bingley and Jane introduced Mr. Darcy to Mrs. Bennet. So, without introduction Elizabeth watched from the edge of her eyes his progress round the edges of the room.
He sneered magnificently.
Mr. Darcy had a tall noble figure, with thick handsome sideburns and piercing eyes. He turned about the room with an expression that shifted from bored, to a curled lip showing disgust, and then back to bored. He avoided all opportunities to converse, and when he settled in a seat for a few minutes, and Mrs. Long tried to speak to him — no doubt hoping to settle the last of her nieces upon such a rich gentleman, even if his sister was a fallen woman — Mr. Darcy had nothing of her conversation. Instead of replying he showed that haughty curled lip and drew his bed head back, as though recoiling from a smelly gift left by a dog.
Elizabeth saw his eyes dart about the room and when he saw that Mr. Bingley was otherwise occupied, he stood and walked away without replying to Mrs. Long.
The rudeness was delightful. She had never quite seen its like.
Everyone, of course, knew everything there was to know about the rich friend of Bingley’s. But, while the room was predisposed to think well of any friend of Bingley — even one with an illegitimate niece — Mr. Darcy finely disappointed every such hope to like him.
Elizabeth danced almost every set, and she paid all the attention to her partners they deserved, and she had a fine party. The ball lacked the spice of novelty such events held when younger, but a fast dance with a handsome young gentleman — or even with a not so handsome, not so young gentleman, if fate was unkind — was a pleasure which never lost its luster.
Once Elizabeth would have been confused by the friendship between Darcy and Bingley given the obvious dissimilarity in their characters. However she had known her brother-in-law long enough to discover that he could easily form an affection towards a large rock and decide it was a dear friend. More amazing yet, his friendliness would drag out of the rock a reciprocal feeling.
Were they Papists, after his death Bingley would be declared the patron saint of good-natured amiability.
Still, if Mr. Darcy was determined to despise the neighborhood, why had he come to the assembly? He was a philanthropist, Elizabeth decided after some consideration, for he had done the neighborhood a good turn. He had given them an excellent subject of conversation, and a man — even better a handsome man — to look upon with dislike.
Everyone loved to have a villain nearby to hate.
Near the middle of the evening Elizabeth found herself obliged to sit out a dance due to a temporary lack of partners. As Elizabeth always had a partner for the far greater part of her evening, such was an event she took philosophically. And Elizabeth was always a vigorous dancer, so her legs were sore. She enjoyed the tall spectacle of Mr. Darcy walking his tall self about the room.
He came near to her, only a bare ten feet away. He examined the large portrait of the King hanging on the wall, well lit by a pair of silver candleholders set into the wall on either side of it.
Mr. Darcy sneered.
Elizabeth bit her lip with a delighted smile.
Bingley walked up to Darcy and clapped his taller friend on the back. “Darcy, dear man — make some effort to enjoy yourself. My friends are here. They shall think quite ill of you, if you make no conversation.”
Darcy replied with a rich baritone — he had a very good voice, one he could project, one which would be a pleasure to listen to in conversation, or if he read from a book.
The words were less pleasant.
“I am not present to make friends. I see little to like here.”
“Nonsense. Of course you are here to make friends.”
Darcy sneered. Bingley grinned happily back.
“My word, you never used to be half so ill tempered.” Bingley clapped his hands together in delight. “You need a dance. With a pretty lady!” Bingley waved to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, here. Come here — Darcy wishes to dance with you. You’ve not been yet introduced I believe—”
Elizabeth walked up with a bright smile; she expected to be amused whether he agreed to dance with her or not.
“I assure you — what my mood lacks will not be cured by being forced to endure a desperate spinster’s simpering company for half hour.”
To her surprise Elizabeth felt a little twinge of rejection at Mr. Darcy’s words, but the absurdity set her to laughing nonetheless. “My goodness! Bingley, your friend seems quite uncivilized — I thought the wilds of Derbyshire had been tamed many a year ago, yet here he is: a barbarian from times before Rome come to join us.”
Bingley looked at his friend open mouthed, shocked that he would say that to his sister-in-law, while Mr. Darcy’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of red, and he seemed caught between the inclination to sneer heartily at her, and the awareness he had gone too far and must apologize.
Once Elizabeth's laugh finished, she was still terribly amused by Mr. Darcy’s twisted expression, and she said with a bright smile, “Mr. Darcy, you broke my brother’s politeness, so I must introduce myself to you as he is too busy thinking you behaved shockingly.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “Elizabeth Bennet, at your service. And let me forestall the apology you think you should make. For it was in fact quite insightful of you to recognize that I am a desperate, simpering spinster. I cannot stand my own company either. Half an hour dancing with you would be quite as miserable for me as it would be for you. Alas — I cannot escape my own company so easily.”
“Miss Bennet, I am very—”
“You need not say it! I may deserve great pity for always bearing my own company, but I am a proud woman, and I do not wish to know that I am pitied.”
“That was not—"
“Say nothing!” Elizabeth patted Darcy on the arm. It was a muscular and well-shaped arm. No reason not to enjoy his person along with his personality. “You need not say it. You need not. But I thank you very much for the thought.”
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth again, but Elizabeth quickly curtsied and walked away, intentionally putting a little bit of extra sway into her hips.

===

Darcy felt thunderstruck. He’d become angrier and angrier over the course of the evening, and something of the past years of little cuts against himself and Georgiana had destroyed his old patience.
He should be disgusted with himself for what he said. But as he watched the backside of Elizabeth Bennet, wrapped in a fine yellow silk dress, walking away, the only thing Fitzwilliam Darcy could think was that Miss Bennet was a damned fine woman.
Darcy half whistled.
“Ah-ah, Darcy.” Bingley grunted to get his attention, though Darcy did not look away from Elizabeth until she started enthusiastically speaking to another gentleman. Bingley said, “Lizzy — she never simpers.”

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