Pride And Prejudice Fan Fiction ❯ Pride: Vice or Virtue? ❯ CHAPTER I ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Charles Bingley thought deeply as he gazed down at his plate. The servants had made him a delicious breakfast: oatmeal, sausages, pastries of many kinds, bacon, and an assortment of fruits. Yet all he could do was looked down, completely fazed out, a goofy grin on his face as he pushed a piece of sausage around with his fork.
Caroline Bingley looked over at her brother, averting her attention from her previous conversation partner. "My goodness, Charles, what ever is the matter?"
Her sister, Mrs. Hurst nodded, while Mr. Hurst merely glanced up from his heaping plate momentarily, then continued eating. "Honestly, Charles, you look such a mess! Is something wrong with the food, or are there some sort of pressing matters upon your mind?" she asked, doubtingly.
Bingley looked up from his plate, a look of slight embarrassment on his face. "I apologize for being so non-conversational. Believe me, it was not consciously done! And no, there is nothing wrong with the food. On the contrary, the breakfast is quite exquisite!” Upon hearing this, the servants sighed a sigh of relief.
Mrs. Hurst looked at her brother. “The way you were pushing that sausage about on the plate looked as if it was not even worth touching! I do think that these sausages are quite different than the ones we get at home. I suppose even the meat in the country is more inferior...” she said, mumbling the end to her sister, who sat beside her.
Caroline smirked. “Do you believe, dear Louisa, that he could possibly be thinking of Miss Jane Bennett?” Bingley blushed and smiled, looking down at his plate again, starting to actually eat this time. Miss Bingley took this as a confirmation. She then turned to whom she had been speaking to previously. “What do you think, Mr. Darcy?”
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s face was kept straight as ever as he put down the paper that he was reading, looking at his friend. Darcy's blue eyes practically penetrated through Mr. Bingley, seeing exactly what he was thinking about, or rather whom Mr. Bingley was thinking about. Darcy was clever and generally knew how to read people, and he knew his friend far too well to not know what he was thinking about. He pushed aside a strand of stray, brown hair and went back to his newspaper. "I agree; he is most definitely thinking upon his memories of Miss Bennett at the ball last evening."
Caroline smiled, satisfied with Mr. Darcy's answer, then turned to her sister. "On the subject of Miss Bennett, I was thinking, dear Louisa, that we should invite our friend here to Netherfield next week. She is quite a sweet girl, and I believe that we would take great pleasure in her visit."
Mrs. Hurst nodded, smiling. "Yes, let's send her an invitation for next Wednesday, if possible."
The table was silent for a moment or two, while each of the five occupants ate. Mr. Bingley stood up from the table, and excused himself. Before leaving, he turned to his friend. "Mr. Darcy, would you like to accompany me later today, possibly after mid-day lunch, and go horseback riding on the grounds? I believe that there is much to be discovered here in Netherfield's forests."
Mr. Darcy looked up from his paper again, and nodded to his friend. Mr. Bingley then grinned, and left the room.

Later that day, after lunch had been finished and cleared away, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy called for their horses and got dressed for riding and met in the foyer. Mr. Bingley wore a white shirt with a gray-blue vest overtop, and a long gray riding jacket. He had black riding slacks, and black boots as well. On top of his red-blonde hair sat a gray top hat. Mr. Darcy was almost the exact opposite of his friend. Though he wore a similar white shirt, that was the only similarity. He had a black vest, and a deep blue riding jacket. He wore light gray-brown riding slacks and black boots, and had a black top hat. They walked out of the house after telling the ladies that they should only be a few hours, and back before supper. They walked out through the middle of the three arches where their horses were waiting for them. For Mr. Bingley, there was a white appaloosa with a few gray spots on its thigh. For Mr. Darcy was a dark brown thoroughbred. They mounted their horses, then set out to the forest.
Mr. Bingley looked up at the sky. "My goodness, Mr. Darcy, look at those dreadfully dark clouds! I should hope that it does not start raining during our ride."
Mr. Darcy nodded, continuing his silence.
They rode for about two hours when it had started sprinkling. This sprinkling progressed into a steady mist, then a downpour. There was no lightning, but both gentlemen agreed it was best to get in doors as soon as possible. By then, they were a good five or six miles away from Netherfield manor. They went at a slower pace than before, taking great care that the horses would not fall or get stuck in the forest ground.
Mr. Darcy glared up into the rain above, silently demanding that the clouds to cease the horrible downpour. Rain was soaking through his hat and down into his hair. It ran off the hat, dripping onto his forehead and cheeks, and then running off of his chin and onto his neck and clothes. He greatly disliked being this wet and uncomfortable, and even though his companion did not seem to mind too much, he wanted to get out of the horrible weather as soon as possible.
All of a sudden, his horse reared. Mr. Darcy, caught completely off guard, tumbled from the animal and into a bush, sending his hat flying. The animal's temper seemed to be contagious, and Mr. Bingley's horse started whinnying and moved restlessly, though did not throw his rider.
Mr. Bingley quickly dismounted, and grabbed his friend's horse's reins. He looked over at his friend. "Darcy, are you all right?"
Mr. Darcy stared at his horse, who had seemed to calm down some, but still seemed troubled by something. His eyes narrowed, deeply unhappy about his predicament. He was now wet, cold, and muddy. They were still a good distance away from their destination, and he had only a restless horse to get back to Netherfield. He looked around him, trying to figure out what had spooked his horse. He looked up at the animal’s eyes, and traced its path of sight.
Darcy’s blue eyes widened greatly, and his tips tightened as he saw the reason.
“Bingley!”