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26th November 1812, Tuesday

The halls of Netherfield were lavishly decorated in the event of the ball, the floor was polished and gleaming, and the walls were bright with decorated candles.

Charlotte found herself keeping to them as the first set of dancing began.

Elizabeth Bennet, her particular friend, had to stand up with her cousin while Charlotte, as was the norm unless introduced to a man by her father, was left quite partnerless despite the scarcity of the ladies because of how many officers Mr Bingley had invited.

Not that Charlotte minded much at all.

Indeed, she was the most practical woman and as such, took no enjoyment from balls or dinner parties where one usually mingled with the opposite sex.

She had no expectations of some great love sweeping her off her feet.

All she had wanted, ever since she was old enough to understand and accept her plain features and her dire prospects, was to simply be mistress of her own home.

If she could achieve that one wish without a husband, she would not hesitate to devote herself to a life of spinsterhood.

As it was, she already had a man in mind who would do nicely for her goals.

Mr Collins was a distant cousin of the Bennet family and the future heir of the Longbourn estate after the death of the current Mr Bennet.

He was quite a silly man, and abhorrently long-winded on every and any mundane subject.

He had his eyes set on Lizzy Bennet, his pointed attentions to his second cousin leaving no doubt in the minds of many that he would propose sooner rather than later.

But, Charlotte knew her bosom friend, and was sure to her core that Elizabeth would reject him without half a thought.

As sensible as her friend usually was in matters so important, she was quite silly when it came to love and matrimony.

Elizabeth had sworn on multiple occasions that she would only ever marry someone she held the deepest regard and respect for, and Charlotte knew that for Mr Collins, Elizabeth could not summon a shred of either.

There was, however, one man, Charlotte believed, who would be Lizzy's equal in every way that mattered. She searched him out, and found him standing similarly to herself against a shadowed wall a few feet away from her, staring quite intently at Elizabeth where she was dancing with her odious cousin. Charlotte approached him casually, managing to situate herself right next to him without him realising it,

“Are you going to pursue her?” She asked, forgoing any civility in exchange for an element of surprise. Darcy jerked, then turned to look at her, his eyes wide. Charlotte could see him trying to understand what she was talking about, and then observed the colour of his cheeks rise when he realised he had been caught staring. He opened his mouth, no doubt to deny every insinuation of any sort, but his tongue held and Charlotte took his silence as an assent. She raised a brow,

“If you are serious about pursuing her, I would suggest changing your method to something more… open. As of right now, all you are doing is making her detest you more with every acquaintance.”

Darcy looked affronted at that, his brows furrowed and his mouth a thin line. He stood up straighter, puffing out his chest as he turned to face her, but Charlotte has yet to ever be truly intimidated by the male sex, and she met his hard gaze unflinchingly,

“You are very out of line, madam.”

“Perhaps I am, Mr Darcy. But it is only because Elizabeth is my particular friend, and I happen to think your characters would suit each other very well. ”

Darcy raised a brow, lips curling scornfully, “No doubt my income is a very enticing and large part of my character. ”

“That I can’t deny.” Charlotte acquiesced, “Lizzy is one of five daughters. Her father is indolent and her mother is silly. She has very little to offer monetarily and will therefore no doubt be an undesirable marriage prospect to many despite her beauty and intellect. It would be in her best interest and that of her family’s to agree to the first proposal she gets.” Charlotte said, then turned from where she had been observing her friend to once again look at Mr Darcy, “But, she won’t.”

“And pray tell, why not?” Darcy drawled, affecting an air of carelessness despite this being the most engaging conversation he had had the entire night,

“Because Elizabeth has sworn to only ever marry for love.” Here, Charlotte shook her head, an indulgent smile tilting up her lips as if Lizzy were a child hoping for a fairytale, “In fact, if I remember correctly, her exact words were: Only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why I shall end up an old maid.” She knew she had surprised Mr Darcy with her words, but there was something else still that he needed to know, “Which is why I can tell you now, sir, you could go and propose to Elizabeth this instant, laying down all your wealth and connexions at her feet, and she will refuse you."

Darcy startled, then scoffed in disbelief, "She must not be that much of a particular friend of yours then, Miss Lucas. Miss Elizabeth has been flirting with me for weeks now."

Charlotte raised an amused brow, this man in front of her- he might be tall and broad and powerful in every sense of the word, but the poor creature was hopelessly oblivious when it came to social interactions of any sort,

“She argues with you constantly, Mr Darcy. ”

Darcy disagreed, “She teases me,” He corrected, “We debate .”

“You quarrel. ” She then corrected him, “She comes back confused and vexed and disliking you a little more with every conversation you have.”

Darcy opened his mouth, ready to defend his stance again, but then clicked it shut. He turned to look at the woman who filled his every waking thought and every nightly dream and felt something in his chest cave in painfully,

“By God, she despises me.”

Charlotte agreed with a nod, but spared him the words, “From the very first moment she met you. You bruised her pride and from that moment on, she decided you could only ever be disagreeable and proud.”

“I did no such thing!” He protested. On this, at least, he was quite certain. He might have been a bit reclusive in company, and maybe even a bit haughty when faced with her shameful family, but surely she was aware he’s only ever tried to favour her with his company! So blatant he had been with his attentions, in fact, he had started to worry that he might have accidentally raised expectations. Now, Miss Lucas here tells him all he’s ever managed to do was make her hate him, and Darcy suddenly feels unbalanced, as if he’s been transported to another world where everything is the very opposite of what it ought to be,

Charlotte saw his confusion, his panic, and could not help but feel pity for the proud and mighty man of Derbyshire brought to his knees by a pretty country miss, “Indeed it was at the country assembly at Meryton that you attended with your friend and his sisters, I believe your words were: She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. ”

Darcy paled, “Nobody but Bingley was to hear those words.” He rushed to explain, panic building up his throat even as his eyes sought the woman in question, “They were blatantly untrue.”

“Well, of course those words were only meant for your friend.” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes no matter how disrespectful the action, “You would have been deemed ungentlemanly rather than just disagreeable if you had announced that comment for all to hear.”

Darcy clenched his jaw, feeling suddenly sure of his intentions of leaving for the town the next day. Clearly, he had lost his chance, if he had even ever had it. He had no reason to linger in Hertfordshire anymore. “I had been hoping to ask Miss Elizabeth for a dance. I see now my attentions would have been most unwelcome.” He made a stiff bow towards Charlotte, preparing to leave, “Thank you for enlightening me, Miss Lucas.”

“Wait-” She called, and though every part of him protested, Darcy did, “I did not tell you all that I did to make you leave Lizzy alone, Mr Darcy.”

“Then pray tell, what else could have been your motivations?”

“Like I said earlier, I think your characters would suit each other very well.”

Darcy shook his head, “Your friend hates me, Miss Lucas.”

“Which only means you have a much better chance of getting her to love you than if she were indifferent.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to try and figure out the meaning of her words, “You are speaking in riddles.” He concluded ,

“Not at all.” Charlotte reassured him, “I only mean to say, the only reason why Elizabeth holds a grudge against your words so far into your acquaintance is because of her initial regard for you. Had she felt nothing for you, your opinions on her person would not have mattered at all.” Charlotte shrugged, “After all, it is hardly the first time Jane has been preferred over Elizabeth when it comes to beauty. It is, however, the first time Lizzy has felt slighted by the comparison.”

Darcy hesitated, his heart and mind a turmoil of emotions. Should he despair at having hurt, intentionally or otherwise, the woman he held in his deepest affections, or should he rejoice at having the power to do so? Was Miss Elizabeth hating him really all that better than if she hadn’t felt anything for him at all?

“What do you suggest I do then, Miss Lucas, to make amends?”

“An apology would go a long way.” She replied, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, but Darcy tensed at the suggestion. Not because Miss Elizabeth did not deserve one, but because apologising for anything had never been one of his strong suits. From his birth, he had been treated as Master with no one above him except for his father, and on occasion, his mother. There had never been all that many opportunities to make amends with a person. Nobody expected him to apologise for his mistakes, so he never did.

Though, he supposed, if there was one person in the world who should expect his remorse, it was Miss Elizabeth. His pride would be a small price to pay for her affections.

Darcy nodded, decided that he would apologise for his words towards her on first opportunity and was already planning the words in his head- the last thing he wanted to do, after all, was accidentally give more offence- when Charlotte interrupted him again, “That would only be the tip of the iceberg, I’m afraid.”

“What do you mean? ”

“A few days ago, Lizzy made an acquaintance with a man. An officer with the militia by the name of George Wickham.”

Darcy tensed at the name - of course, he remembered seeing them together and a part of him had known he ought to intervene, but his feelings towards Miss Elizabeth had even then been so convoluted and he had been so angry at the sight of Wickham so near another woman he held dear in his heart - that he had only just managed to ride away on his horse, lest he throttle the man right there in the middle of the street in front of the ladies,

“I suppose, from your reaction to the name, I can conclude that you are indeed acquainted with the man.” Charlotte observed,

Darcy hesitated, then haltingly replied, “Yes.” He nodded, “He was the son of my father’s steward and he was my father’s godson.”

“You were friends growing up?”

“We might as well have been brothers.” Dary replied, the old dulled pain of years ago once again rearing its head.

“You were jealous of him? Of how your father treated him?”

Here, Darcy’s brow furrowed, and he turned to give Miss Lucas a questioning glance, “Not especially. My father treated Wickham with all the affection and respect a godson deserved, but he always loved me as his son and sole heir. Never did I feel inferior to George Wickham when it came to parental affection.”

Charlotte raised her brows, though she was hardly surprised, “Then I take it you did not deny Wickham his living either? In the event of your father’s death? ”

Darcy stiffened, then scoffed scornfully, “Is that the tale he’s been brewing this time?” He asked resentfully, then abruptly stilled, “Is that what he’s told Miss Elizabeth of my character?” Suddenly, he felt a little sick, “And she believed him?”

Charlotte looked at him a little pityingly, “She’s determined to hate you.” She offered as a way of explanation, “It doesn’t help that Mr. Wickham is all that is handsome and amiable and ready to shower her with flattery while you are handsome and prideful and the man who only ever found her tolerable.”

Darcy sighed, resigned, “I have truly lost her good opinion then, if she is ready to believe me so dishonourable.”

Even as Darcy said this, however, he knew it could not be the end. Miss Elizabeth might never love him; her feelings, with time, might as well grow into indifference, but he could not let her be deceived by Wickham. He could not bear for her to become one of his many victims. Abruptly, he straightened, a new kind of determination taking over his broken hopes, and implored Charlotte with a most earnest pair of eyes,

“Miss Lucas, could I possibly ask you for a favour?”

She tilted her head, “What can I do for you, Mr Darcy?”

“I need to leave for London tomorrow. There are papers I need to gather, papers that would prove, if not me innocent, then at least Wickham as the worst kind of man. For years I have settled his debts, employed the women he’s ruined around my estate, hidden his vices from society for the sake of my late father. In my absence, I only ask you to protect Miss Elizabeth. To make sure that she stays as far away from Wickham as possible until I can convince her of his crimes. ”

Charlotte raised a brow, though it warmed her to see so much concern for her friend on the man’s face, “You will come back?”

Darcy nodded, resolute, “As speedily as my horse and the roads would allow. ”