A/N: So I wrote this a while back, it is posted in another forum. It is set in Regency, yet it is not written in Regency style.. Please forgive my anachronistic heart.. but I had fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it...

As with all Pride and Prejudice based fan fictions, the original belongs to the immortal Jane Austen

I am not a romantic woman, truly. I just want to be joined with a man I could admire and respect. Love would be a wonderful addition, but my reality offers few channels of expression for a woman. Maybe this will change in some future place, yet tomorrow is not looking good for me, the day following no better. I have a dowry of only one thousand pounds upon the death of my father, so I will submit my idealism to a little realistic expectation. What other choice does a respectable gentlewoman of small fortune have? (You may thank my dear friend Charlotte for that bit of wisdom)

There are five of us, all girls. I am closest to my father, the nearest to a son he will ever receive until one of us is fortunate (or stupid depending on the impetus) enough to marry. We share a love for books, chess and the ridiculous. Sarcasm is our bond, and we bond well.

Enter one Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man of some considerable fortune (at least 10,000 a year) of great property, a gentleman, grandson of an Earl, etc.. etc.. yadda yadda yadda. He is a member of the highest circles (or so I am told, I have never been there). He is the most insufferable, arrogant, judgmental, handsome man I have ever seen in my life. I wish I could say I was indifferent to him, but I cannot. If I let honesty be my guide, I can say even from our earliest acquaintance I could never quite acquit myself from the depth of my notice of his person. It was an infuriating (humiliating!) meeting and my subsequent dealings with him gave evidence of my complicated emotions in his direction.

I am visiting my friend Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas. She is unfortunately standing in the stupid column by my estimation. Not that I do not love my friend, forgive my candor, it is only by means of desperation that she has condescended to connect herself for life to the most ridiculous man I have ever had the displeasure to meet. Please do not confuse the level of my discord for her husband, a Mr. Collins, cousin of my father and parson of Hunsford, to be equal to, or of the same measure of Mr. Darcy. It is a dislike of the most acute kind based purely on Mr. Collins' uncanny ability to find words to fill the space of any silence (however much it is desired by those in attendance) and to smell perpetually of onions.

I am alone this evening… nursing a headache of the heart break kind brought on by a certain Colonel Fitzwilliam. I know the name sounds familiar, for you see Colonel Fitzwilliam is the slightly older, more gregarious cousin of said Fitzwilliam Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam in his need to protect and proclaim the virtues of his beloved cousin has inadvertently wounded my familial pride. He spent our afternoon walk regaling me of his cousin's most industrious designs as it concerns his friend Charles Bingley and obviously unknowingly to him, my eldest sister Jane. Jane is by far the most gentle and friendly soul G-d ever created. You must believe me, for I am an expert on all things Jane Bennett.

I thought myself to be alone, but this was far too simple. Had I had some time to process my ire, I may have endeavored to be civil, but this was not to be. Mr. Darcy in his misguided attempt to be useful saw fit to check on the state of my well being. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. After kindly inquiring about my present health, he began pacing in a most peculiar manner.

He walked to the mantel and turned suddenly.

"In vain have I struggled, it will not do, you must allowed me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you"

What? You want to know about shock? This is shock! I am engulfed in it…

He spoke of love and passion (swoon… wait, did I think that), but these were not the only sentiments. Abhorring deceit of every kind, his misgivings were to be expressed in explicit detail! He thinks I will accept him, the gall! I have got some thoughts on this kind of love, and let me tell you, I am not the sort of ifemale/i to resist the opportunity to express my disregard.

"You say you love me?" I asked; no need to portend any feelings of affection, he spoke oh so eloquently of his affection AND of his disdain. I am by no means deficient in my abilities to convey the depth of my feelings and felt myself well able to defend my own honor.

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered. "I do"

Oh I could remove his tongue for his arrogance, such was my anger. I would growl if only I could forget that despite the fury that nearly became another person outside of me I am indeed the daughter of a gentleman.

"Do you believe I could for a second despite my own feelings accept a man who has ruined, perhaps eternally, the hopes of my most beloved sister?"

The arrogant swine sneered… at me! He heaps upon me his unwanted affection and has the audacity to sneer at me!

"I will not deny it" Pig! "I have done everything I could to separate my friend from your mother's machinations and your sister's contrived affections. Towards him I have extended more kindness than to myself"

"Kindness… you dare speak to me of kindness, while you speak to me of your affection in the most ungentlemanly manner I can imagine?"

If I could disguise my scorn, I would, but where would I hide it with my ire sneaking upon every fiber of my being? To where would I place such feelings to allow a subdued discourse? It is not to be borne! Where did I hear that before? I continued.

"You dare express to me that you love me, but this love of which you speak apparently is offensive to you. Why sir would you express a love that obviously exists amongst such abhorrent feelings that you feel a need to express it in a manner that no gentlewoman of any self respect would feel herself called upon to accept?"

There, now I have said it… He looks affronted. Good! He needs to be. I may be beneath him socially, my family may not be the model of decorum, but we love and we are to be respected. If you deign us so beneath you, why come to me at all?

"It is in this way that I am to rebuffed" Indeed! I scoff at your indignant feelings sir.. Scoff! Scoff! Scoff! "I would perhaps ask why you would deny me the pleasure of your hand with so little civility, but it is of no consequence." His mouth said he didn't care, but his eyes… his eyes said he was in pain. I was nearly taken in; such was the sincerity of his eyes. My anger however held no sympathy for the truth in his eyes.

"Such expressions with which you've assaulted me do not deserve my civility. You speak to a woman of love with one breath and with the next insult her family and her character. You behave with such haughtiness, in selfish disdain of the feelings of others, yet you call notice to my lack of civility while refusing you a man who takes pride in abusing the heart of the most unselfish woman in all of creation. My sister Jane deserves neither your derision, nor your censure. I suppose had she behaved as brazenly as some fortune hunter on the prowl she would deserve your respect? Or maybe she should have applied the subtlety of some other ladies of our acquaintance?"

"Pardon?" he shook his head "I believed your sister indifferent to my friend…"

He almost stumbled. Well met. I shall slay this arrogant dragon yet. But I am uneasy, I must tell you, for though I am angry I am by no means unaffected in my other emotions. Beneath my fury, there are other feelings.. feelings I am ashamed to admit but to these pages. I watch as his chest heaves, the cut of his clothes against him… his hands. I notice his height, his stature, all male and seemingly all around me. How could I not notice? I have spent so much time watching him, trying to make him out, believing him indifferent to me and all this time he has been in love with me. What woman would not be affected by such a man making addresses to her? Had it not been for my determination to dislike him, I fear I would have been lost some time ago. I may have even behaved as Miss Bingley had… well, perhaps not.

"My sister is modest, and endeavors despite 'vulgar' relations…" insert curious eye movements here "To keep her emotions under good regulation. It amazes me that you speak of your belief of her indifference, I daresay, if it were not for your declaration today, I would continue in my belief that you are as indifferent to me as you believed my sister indifferent to your friend. I am learning however that where there is wealth and rank one may behave themselves as unseemly as possible and give offense wherever they go. Surely your relations and even those of Mr. Bingley are the epitome good manners. Should I suggest my family model themselves after them? There is so drastic a difference in their behavior."

His face is almost white now. I believe my point has been made. Maybe he will leave. I want to hit something to vet my anger and he is much to close to me.

"Miss Elizabeth.. I.. I cannot dispute your logic. It would be unfair of me to hold your family to a different standard than that of my own acquaintance." He spoke haltingly, as if in thought. His shoulders relaxed and his eyes implored me to see his contrition.

I want to look away but I cannot. My anger though still quite prominent is subdued by my shock. I may most surely swoon now. Who is this man who speaks humbly before me? I shall need my mother's salts, my head is swimming so.

"I see your shock Miss Elizabeth, but I mean it sincerely. You believe me unfeeling, and I tell you that is not so. Would that you knew me?" He spoke almost in a whisper. My shock was ebbing, I had more to elucidate about what I know of him.

"Know you Mr. Darcy? What would I want to know of a man who was cruel enough to deny his dying father's wishes and reduce a man to poverty? How could you behave so? What manner of friendly deference could justify such an action?"

His shoulders rose instantly, I am tempted to take a step back, but I will not be cowed. He has instigated this sparring match and I shall oblige him.

"You defend Mr. Wickham Miss Elizabeth, I thought you a wise woman."

"Why would I not defend a man who has been so grievously wronged? And by your hand?"

He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling quite dramatically for what seemed an interminable amount of minutes. Neither of us backed down as he continued to speak.

"I see I am not the only one who will have their beliefs challenged today." He proceeded to tell a tale of such profligacy, dishonor and licentiousness as I never thought possible in the world. Mr. Wickham who seemed all charm, kindness and sincerity is a reprobate and a rake of the highest order. Do understand me, I could have easily discount Mr. Darcy's tale as a falsehood. Their stories were so similar, in the beginning. Where they diverged gave evidence of such an unfeeling character in the previously trusted Mr. Wickham. Why would Mr. Darcy user his own sister, a sister I've heard him speak of with such love and respect, to acquit his on character? I am shocked. How much shock can one person take in a day?

"My family they must be warned! My youngest sisters could be in danger." My thoughts were muddled. I felt alarm and shame. How could I have been so taken in by pretty words and an open temper?

"If you wish it I will gladly pen a letter to your father to warn him. Though your sisters' portions may be small, I would not hesitate to believe Wickham an opportunist; especially where girls so young and spirited are concerned."

"You tried to warn me."

"I did; I had hoped to put you on your guard. I had not thought you so decidedly against me however as to not merit my warning."

We both were deflated. We had sparred on a field of battle and neither of us could claim victory. He had his back to me, his lean imposing form rested heavily against the mantle piece. I could only sit and stare. How could I have been so blind? I never knew myself.

"I must apologize to you. I am thoroughly ashamed." I spoke clearly, but quietly. The world was being realigned before my eyes.

"Please, do not trouble yourself. My own father was taken in by Mr. Wickham. However, he did have the forethought to leave the living at Kympton to him conditionally." He turned and stared at me for a long time, I was afraid to raise my eyes to his, afraid he would see the tears I was willing not to fall. Our eyes locked as he slowly walked in my direction.

"Miss Elizabeth, please do not cry. I would do anything to ease your mind, you need only ask." His voice was so soft, so soothing, I could only stare. My mouth would not work. My thoughts were firing in many directions and overwhelming my tongue. The battle waging in my mind left me with no idea which side I wanted to win.

"I will leave you now. I hope that when we meet again…" he paused, then inhaled deeply, "I will be leaving for London tomorrow. There is a friend that I need to speak to most urgently."

"You will tell Mr. Bingley about Jane?" I could not but hope, Jane deserved her happiness.

"I can make no promises to you, I can only tell him the truth of my interference as well as the truth of Miss Bennet's feelings. The rest I fear is up to Mr. Bingley."

"You would do that?"

"I know you believe me devoid of every proper feeling. Despite the outcome, I only meant to save my friend from a loveless marriage."

We both submitted wry smiles in response to his words, the irony of his statement could not be ignored.

"You have shown me the right of it, by you I have been properly humbled."

"We shall say then that this conversation has served us both well, had I not been blinded by my own vanity, I would have seen the truth of Mr. Wickham's improper behavior."

"Vanity? You do not… I mean to ask… your heart is not troubled?" His voice was saturated with hope. I wanted to hope as well.

"My heart?" I continued with a chuckle, "I found Mr. Wickham pleasant, he does have an appearance of goodness, but he has not touched my heart."

This caused him to smile. A beautiful smile on a more handsome man I have never seen.

"Then your heart is still your own to give?"

"It remains so at the present, yes."

"If one were to attend to your reproofs, he may hope to earn it?"

Though still teary, I am smiling now. I believe that is the accepted response, when someone renders you a sincere smile, it is returned in the same manner.

"Well, I had always believed that a woman would be courted before being asked for her hand. Lately, I begin to wonder if I may not have the right of it."

He looked puzzled. He didn't know of Mr. Collins.

"You have given me hope, I shall leave while I still have it." At this I stood, there was much to consider.

He walked towards me, and I curtsied as he prepared to leave, but this would not do. He approached me, shoulders back at his full height, his eyes locked on mine and I felt captured. When he extended his hand I did not think, I just reacted and placed my hand in his. Without removing his eyes from mine he bowed slightly and brought my hand to his lips. I have never contemplated a man's lips before, I am very sure that will change.

"Until we meet again." What do you call that tone of voice, I like it. Very much.

He released my hand turned to retrieve his gloves and hat then went to the door. I had not taken my eyes from him.

"We will meet again Miss Bennet." I remember that look, from Netherfield, from Lucas Lodge, from across Lady Catherine's dinner table. The meaning of that gaze would never be mistaken by me again.

He left the room. Everything felt still and hollow without his presence. Apparently the human threshold for shocks in one day was not quite expended. Miraculously, I remained standing.

Was it good for you? hee hee