Chapter 2

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Fitzwilliam Darcy stormed out of the room, and rushed outside of the assembly hall building. Breathing heavily he leaned against the wall and replayed the scene he had just created again and again in his mind. He flinched when recalling Elizabeth Bennet's face as he had shouted at her. Whatever had made him angry, it was no excuse to act in such a way, and he realized this. Even if she had slighted him, he shouldn't have publicly humiliated her. Darcy had never acted in this way before. Sure he had always had a temper, but he kept it in check at least until he was no longer in a public setting.

There was something about Elizabeth Bennet that sparked his reaction. Whenever he had been out in society he had always been chased by young ladies and their mercenary mothers, and loathed them. He felt hunted, and he knew he would never be happy with a woman who would throw herself at his feet. Every single woman he had ever met had done just that since he had come of age, and Elizabeth Bennet had given him hope in her indifference. Hope that she would be the one for him. He knew it was irrational to have such hopes in someone that he had just met, but Mr. Darcy could not help it.

That she would completely ignore him however shattered his hopes of her being the one for him, and he acted out because of this. Still he knew that whatever his initial impression of her had inspired, it gave him no reason to treat Elizabeth Bennet differently than he would any other. He may not have been a friendly person, that he knew, but he was not cruel, and his behavior towards her appalled him. So he prepared himself for the apology he was to pay to Elizabeth Bennet. After finally concluding a plan on how he might apologize, Mr. Darcy returned to the assembly room in hopes of initiating it. The room had turned from one of silence during his departure, to a loud roar of gossiping. He slipped in surprisingly unnoticed, stayed to the edge of the room, and made his way to an unoccupied corner, hoping to search for Elizabeth Bennet in peace.

Unfortunately for Mr. Darcy, his search was soon disturbed by an interloper, a young lady sent by her mother to entice him no doubt. He recognized her as a Miss Charlotte Lucas upon studying her face for a while, and tried to recall what his first impressions of her were. He remembered calling on the Lucas family with Bingley, and how they had been warmly received. Mr. Darcy had begged Mr. Bingley not to drag him along, but Bingley was relentless. "I shall not have a hermit for a friend Darcy, and besides, Sir Lucas was extremely cheerful and kind when he called on us. We must not offend him!" Darcy recalled Bingley saying. When he had been at the Lucas' home, Mr. Darcy wanted to be anywhere but there. Sir Lucas was not disagreeable, but was a great deal too silly for him, and the rest of the family offered nothing of interest. He would have much rather been alone writing to his sister Georgiana. He had missed his sister so much, and was eager to see her again, but she had told him he needed to get away, to enjoy himself. He found it slightly amusing that his sister's plan to make him happier was making him miserable. All Mr. Darcy wanted was to go home to Georgiana and hide away. He wanted to hide away from society, all the stiffness, and hunting, and drama. Charlotte Lucas reminded him slightly of Georgiana upon their first meeting. She had said little, which he had interpreted as her being shy and timid. He didn't realize that she was actually studying his character, observing as she often did. She had become quite good at it, studying characters, and judged Mr. Darcy to be afraid of strangers rather than arrogant, like many people would suppose. When she approached him, he assumed that her mother had forced her to come and try to seduce him, when in reality she was merely trying to give him advise.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," Charlotte said calmly.

"Good evening, Miss Lucas," Mr. Darcy mumbled. He did not look in her eyes, but stared ahead, still searching for Elizabeth.

"I'm afraid this might seem a little forward," Charlotte Lucas started, and Mr. Darcy started to imagine her next words with horror. Was she going to flirt with him? Ask him about his wealth? He could only imagine her saying something that would make him uncomfortable. She continued, "Smile more."

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