A/N: Welcome back to my loyal readers and a hearty welcome to new ones!

This story is once again a radical writing experiment, although I won't tell you exactly what I'm trying to do… just that it's a somewhat different from my previous work… as usual. I imagine I might settle down eventually.

The writing style is based on an idea one of my reviewers PMed me, although I was never quite sure if she was suggesting it seriously or as a dare. I guess we will find out. You can give your praise or censure to lgordon, who has a nice short story you should read.

There are actually two new elements. The second new trick is something I put in an author's note a while back is a joke and decided to give it a try.

You will see some of the tricks in the very first page, but you can assume any story with a cheatsheet is a bit off the rails. After that, it will take a couple chapters to see what the second and most radical part of the experiment. I must forewarn you, chapter 3 is unprecedented in scope, content and style.

This is novella length so far, and I expect it to stay that. It's planned for 6 longish chapters (3-5k per).

As usual, OOC, OTT, all the other O things that might scare off the meek.

Warning: Has some violence in later chapters.

This is Regency, starting at the Meryton Assembly. Note that there is no definitive timeline in P&P, and most of the time I use the traditional 1811-12, but this year I'm moving it back a year, so it starts in 1810.

Wade

Update: 2-20-18 – This story has a different style for each chapter (that's the experiment). The first chapter was pretty much universally disliked (it had emojis) so I removed them and reverted to a dialog-only style like The Wedding Afternoon.

Assembly Rooms – Meryton, Hertfordshire – Tues 15 Oct 1810

"You are staring, Mr. Darcy."

"I beg your pardon!"

"You are staring, Mr. Darcy."

"My apologies Miss… er… madam. I realize that is unaccountably rude."

"I am not censuring you, sir."

"You are not?"

"Absolutely not, I assure you. More likely showing off, I should think."

"If that is your objective, you have achieved it… er… Miss… er… madam… uh…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake! I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and you are Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy! There, is that better now that we have had a proper introduction? May we presume to have bowed, curtsied, looked embarrassed and inquired of health and weather?"

"What about the state of the roads?"

"That as well!"

"Not precisely proper, Miss Bennet, but sufficient for our needs I believe."

"I am Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bennet is my eldest sister Jane – your Mr. Bingley's latest angel."

"Oh… I… I… Oh…"

"Do not discompose yourself sir, I meant no censure that time either. Are you always this jumpy?"

"In crowded assembly rooms, I imagine I am."

"I thought so. I can practically smell it. Do you feel you have a giant matrimonial target on your back, sir?"

"Er… Ah…"

"You know what I mean – your pounds and pounds, carriages and carriages, acres and acres, circles and circles, etc. etc. etc. – and I imagine such a wealthy man must be unbearably handsome as well!"

"Well…"

"You are staring again, sir."

"Yes, well, you…"

"Yes, yes – I know. I discompose you. The blind girl always does that."

"I… I apolog…"

"None of that, sir! You need to learn to quit apologizing every second sentence, or go back to talking to sighted people. Or perhaps you could return to stalking angrily around the room if you prefer that to my company."

"Stalking?"

"Yes sir, it sounds ever so much better than 'sulking', does it not?"

"Are those my only choices?"

"I fear they are. Of course, you could quit stalking, quit sulking, and make yourself amiable for your friend's sake. His standing in the community might be adversely affected by your disposition."

"My disposition?"

"Yes sir. The words haughty, arrogant and proud have been spoken, but of course by your social inferiors, so it probably does not matter to you, but it does to them. I hope I do not offend you with my candor."

"Actually… candor is appreciated, and quite rare. However, I have not the honor of knowing any lady beyond my own party."

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room! Is your protégé similarly sulking, or happily dancing?"

"I have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"I have not the talent which some people possess, of detecting the difference between a wall, a closed door, an open door and a cliff. I cannot catch the tone of my boots except in a very quiet room. I cannot appear interested in architecture, as I often see done, and I find it most inconvenient when I mistake a wall for an open door."

"Are you mocking me, madam?"

"Yes, sir, I am! You say you cannot converse easily when surrounded by enemies?"

"I did not say that!"

"But you thought it, or something very similar!"

"Did you exchanged your eyesight for the ability to read minds?"

"Touché, sir… or is that word considered unpatriotic… never-mind… I was always a studier of characters. I must confess more complex characters are more interesting, and you are my victim for the moment. You are mostly helpless since no gentleman would pick on a blind girl, and if you stalk away angrily your expression will be entirely wasted on me."

"You are refreshingly confusing, Miss Elizabeth. Pray, continue with this chastisement."

"You say you cannot catch their tone of voice, sir? Well for me, tone of voice is all I have now. I just had to practice, but I imagine you do not trouble yourself to do so."

"You give your opinion very decidedly…"

"For a blind woman?"

"Do not put words in my mouth. I have enough trouble with the ones I put there myself."

"Touché, again, sir!"

"Would it be untoward to ask…"

"Ask anything you like Mr. Darcy. That is the benefit of talking to me – the reward for tolerating my impertinence and your obviously acute embarrassment."

"I do not understand?"

"I am the safest conversationalist in this room… even safer than that woman you came in with who is clearly stalking you. By the by, I might recommend a stout lock on your room or a large dog… Or perhaps both!"

"How did you know…"

"Patience, sir. Am I wrong?"

"Probably not."

"Shall I answer your impertinent question?"

"I cannot even remember what it was."

"Would it be untoward to ask… You see, Mr. Darcy, there are benefits to talking to a blind woman."

"Such as"

"You can actually ask any question you like. I can get away with anything, and that protection extends to you. Nobody knows how to adapt the rules of propriety for a woman who once freely traipsed all around the country, is known to everyone in the village, but is blind now. They know how to handle one who was always blind, or has blindness caused by injury, war wound, old age or fever; but my sight just gradually disappeared over a month a couple years ago with no real fuss. Except for not being able to see, I do not look the part. Nobody knows what to do with that."

"And that applies to our earlier discussion how?"

"I am the safest woman in the room for conversation by every measure. You are safe from both myself and matchmaking mamas like mine because I am so obviously unsuitable for marriage. I would of course be completely unsuitable for a man of your circle even with my sight; but without it, nobody could possibly think I have designs on you. Conversely, not even my mother would deign to interrupt the one man that would pay me attention to me in a month, and even she would not drag you away to one of my more suitable sisters as that would be too vulgar even for her. Therefore, you are safe from all enemies."

"An extraordinary assertion, ma'am."

"Go ahead if you dare sir. Pick any woman in the room and make eye contact, and see if they do not look away."

XXXXXX

"Right as usual, Miss Elizabeth."

"I thought so. I am impervious to impropriety. I could drag you into the library by your cravat, presuming I could find the door that is; come back an hour later with my dress backwards and my petticoat lost; and everyone would just assume it is another quirk of the sightless. If you say something untoward and I should happen to repeat it; everyone will assume my hearing or understanding is diminished by my blindness. I am not the least missish as I will eventually be a companion to someone's ancient aunt, so I wish to have all the good conversation I may before that happens. Therefore, you are perfectly safe in my company."

"I… I…"

"At least from everyone else."

"Er…"

"Ask your question, Mr. Darcy!"

"What did you gain when you lost your sight?"

XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX

"I have you flummoxed, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I am all astonishment, Mr. Darcy."

"Why?"

"That is not one of the usual questions…"

"Such as?"

"How long have you been blind? Can you see anything at all? Why do you not cover your eyes? Why have your eyes not turned cloudy? Are you a witch? Can You Still Hear? Oh, you poor dear, how will you ever catch a husband? What did you lose with your lost sight? Can you see anything at all… anything? Are you a witch? Are your sisters going blind too? How about your papa? How do you not bang into every tree in Hertfordshire? Is your hearing improved? Will I catch it if I talk to you? If you had children, would they be blind? Are you a spinster yet, and if not how long until you buy the cap? Why do you still come to assemblies if you cannot even watch the dancing? ..."

"I get the idea."

"Nobody has ever asked that question."

"Nobody?"

"Nobody!"

"They all assume it is only a loss!"

"Exactly"

"So, answer the question, if you dare."

"Impertinent pup, are you not?"

"Yes, ma'am. Stop prevaricating. The question!"

"I gained clarity and peace of mind, Mr. Darcy."

XXXXXXX

"Clarity? Peace of Mind?"

"Yes sir."

"Please Explain!"

"If I still had my sight, my mother would be pushing me to secure one of the rich gentlemen, both of whom are obviously in want of a wife. I would naturally be dreaming unrealistic girlish dreams of finding my one true love… who knows, maybe it would have been you… No need to smirk, Mr. Darcy. I know how unlikely it would have been."

"You assume I am smirking?"

"Am I wrong?"

"No"

"I would wonder what my future was. I would be hoping for so much more. Love, marriage, children, long life, adventure with an amiable and loving man… all that while trying not to admit that I had basically no dowry, four sisters and no brother, an entailed estate where I may be thrown into the hedgerows when my father dies, a loud and uncouth mother, two or three silly sisters, and not a single eligible and amiable man within twenty miles. I would still have hoped for all that despite the odds. My mother would have pushed me relentlessly at any man in trousers that happened to cross her path, and doubly towards any rich man, and our acquaintance would have been miserable. I do not doubt one of us would have hated the other on sight. However, now that it is all gone, I need not repent its loss, as I know what my life will most likely be."

"How do you see it?"

"I am intelligent sir, frighteningly so according to some in the neighborhood who are easily frightened, so I can still do useful things. I am teaching a few children to read now using books I memorized years ago and some letters made by my friend John Lucas and his wife. I may be able to continue that in some capacity one day… perhaps at a school for the poor or some such that cannot afford to be choosey. Maybe I can be the one that starts teaching most of the poor girls of a neighborhood to read and write. I imagine with one older girl as assistant I could do quite well. I am an excellent conversationalist, good listener and the most sensible of my sisters. I can help people that are melancholy or confused by simply listening to them and giving their problems due consideration, even if I do not offer any good suggestions. I can do something useful despite my eyes, and most importantly, I can be happy. Being happy is a choice, you see. Now that I have no more exalted hopes, I may rejoice in those that remain. That sir is what I gained – clarity and peace of mind… and that leads to happiness."

"So, you are saying that limiting your choices has left you more content with those that you believe you have left?"

"There is no need to couch it in hypotheticals, Mr. Darcy. My status is what it is… but to answer your question, yes, I believe reducing my choices has left me happier with what is left. It is a bit of a paradox, really."

"Singular, I would say. I am not certain I could be so sanguine."

"I hope you shall never have to learn, sir. It does nothing to rail against your fate. I got all of that out of my system the first year or two, and I must own that tilting at windmills did not accomplish any more for me than it did for Don Quixote. I am content."

XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX

"Enough of that! It is time for you to quit sulking, Mr. Darcy."

"NOT sulking."

"Quibbles, Mr. Darcy. Let us get on with it!"

"Get in with what?"

"Give me your arm, and I will introduce you to some people, and help ease you into conversation. It will give you a chance to practice and being sociable, and me a chance to practice at helping someone. If necessary, I shall translate whatever they say into English for you. Who knows, being in my company may even extend the imperviousness of my anti‑matrimonial shield over you… I hear Charlotte just over to our right. Let us start with her."

"Very well. Take one step to the right, Miss Elizabeth and then five steps forward."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

XXXXXXX
XXXXXXX

"Miss Charlotte Lucas, may I present Mr. Darcy of a giant estate with scads of blunt from the Great North! Mr. High and Mighty Darcy, my best friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas."

"Lizzy. That hardly seems proper."

"Yes, I believe the gentleman agrees, so you had best leave this den of impropriety. Perhaps you can discuss it while you dance."