Pride And Prejudice Fan Fiction ❯ Pride: Vice or Virtue? ❯ CHAPTER III ( Chapter 3 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

The room seemed to be the definition of calm; quite different than the night before. It was early morning, a little before six. The sun was not able to be seen from the window that overlooked the back of Netherfield estate, yet one could see the beginnings of a sunrise. The sky had turned from the deep black with the spots of silver stars to a more royal purple and slight spots of blue and pink.
The two candles in the room had long burnt out, and were sitting on opposite ends of the room. The room was done in pale greens and a specific blue-gray color, making one feel quite at ease. Their was a fairly large bed of dark wood with a small night stand and matching furniture. There was a large, full-body size mirror, a vanity, a dresser, and a small writing desk by one of the windows. Over on the other side of the room from the desk were two matching, soft, blue-gray chairs with dark wood legs. In between them was a small coffee table, with a book of sermons and a Bible on top.
The girl's eyes shot open, looking frantically from one side of the room to the other, and then back again. They moved quickly around, scanning their surroundings and the room they were now in.
"Where... in the world... am I?"
One could now see why Mr. Darcy had been so surprised at seeing her eyes. They were, on first glance, a very pleasant shade of blue. But when one looked closer, as Mr. Darcy had seen, one would see that they were the most unique and exquisite shade of ice blue. The edges, closest to the white of the eye, was a quick gradient into a deep blue. The part closest to the pupil had, when one looked very closely, a thin sunburst here and there of a light gold color.
The girl leaned up, feeling slightly dizzy. "I can't remember what happened... last thing I remember... I believe I was walking in the forest..." She sighed as her memory came to a blank, and sank dejectedly back into the soft pillows. She closed her eyes, sighing at the comfort the bed brought her. She could barely remember the last time she had slept in an actual bed. "It has probably been a few months since then..."
She then opened her eyes, and sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. She stretched, trying to shake the sleepiness from her body. She then looked down, and noticed something decidedly different. She was wearing a simple, yet quite beautiful, white nightgown. "This is, most definitely, not mine..." She looked about the room, and saw a light blue dress, with petticoat and other garments, lying on one of the chairs. The girl also noticed that her boots had been cleared of all mud and grime, and were propped up by the chair on the floor. She walked over and picked up the dress, holding it up to inspect. It was a light blue color, like that of an ice glacier. It had a simple ribbon of the same color around it, creating an empire waist. The dress had a shallow U neck so that the opening came halfway onto her shoulders. The sleeves were short and only covered a third of her bicep. Yet the lower portion of the dress and how the folds came together were of a simple elegance.
She quickly changed into the outfit that the unknown person had picked out for her, folding the nightgown and placing it onto the pillow. She slipped into and laced up her brown boots. She made the bed, then located her cloth bag, which was resting on the desk. Everything she did, she did in a hurry. It was as if the elegance of the room made her restless and anxious to get away, as if she felt she didn't belong with such sophistication.
She went out of the room, then closed the door. The hall was dark and carpeted, so her footsteps, thankfully, made no sound. She walked slowly, looking behind her, then sped up. She felt as if someone was watching her. She started sprinting, trying to get away from the unseen eyes. She then looked forward, going around the corner, and her nose connected with something covered in cloth, yet quite solid.
The combination of her speed against the object caused her to push the solid object off balance and backwards. She tumbled forward onto the object and both hit the ground at the same time. The thing let out a soft, low, groan.
The girl opened her ice blue eyes, for she had closed them during the fall, and met the glare of a pair of dark blue ones. She gasped in surprise, being slightly appalled at how she had been spooked so easily. She rolled over off of the person into the darker shadows, then sat up, trying to see the person who she had run into. She could barely see anything, but they were close enough to the foyer that some light was allowed in. It was a man, maybe of a few more years than herself, that much she could tell. His dark brown hair was slightly untidy from sleep. He wore a loose white shirt, and light brown pants, signaling that he had recently been asleep, rather than awake for more than a half hour, as the girl had. The last thing, and probably the most important, was the horrible glare that he was giving her. She looked down, unable to meet his stare.
"I feel as if I should remember those eyes..."
"Excuse me, miss, but if you are trying to do your job properly, I suspect running into one of your master's guests is not the best way to accomplish your duties." He stood up, looking down on her.
"I... I beg your pardon, sir...?" she stammered.
His voice adopted some confusion. "You work here, do you not?"
"I, sir, most certainly do not!"
The girl stood up, and into more of the light. The man's eyes opened much wider with surprise, and his lips parted slightly from the hard, tight line that they had formed with his annoyance. The girl looked down, slightly embarrassed at being stared at, then looked back up, a hard look of determination set upon her face.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I do not enjoy being stared at as if I were some sort of museum artwork, for I most certainly am not! In addition to this, though I apologize for crashing into you, I must explain myself more clearly. I'm not entirely sure where I am, or who this elegant house belongs to, so I believe I am within my right to be slightly scared in not knowing my whereabouts!"
The man seemed taken aback by her outburst. Then, once the initial shock was over with, he seemed to come to a realization of the hour and how loud their conversation was becoming. "Please follow me." He turned around and started walking back from where he had come from.
The girl looked suspiciously at him, wary of what motive was behind his rude actions. The man turned around, noticing that he was not being followed, and glared at her. The girl, though unsure of his reasons, followed him. He led her down a smaller hallway that had branched off from the main one that they had so ungracefully collided in. He then opened a door, and held it open for her as she entered.
He had brought her to, what she believed was, possibly his bedroom. The room was similar to her own, yet instead of the light blues was a set of dark, rich furniture and deep mahoganies. There was only a single candle, so it was still difficult for either person to see the other. He then motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs, which she agreed to. He seemed anxious, and paced for a moment about the room while the girl sat there, watching him. He then ceased his pacing and looked at her.
“May I ask what your name is?”
The girl looked down at her feet. “You may ask, but that does not mean that I shall give you an honest answer.” She seemed to be staring quite decidedly at her feet. “May I ask what your name is?”
He glared at her. “You may ask, but that does not mean you shall be granted an answer.”
The two glared at each other for a few silent moments, until the girl could not bare the silence. “Then, may I ask what I should call the owner of this home that I have been taken to?”
“Mr. Bingley.”
“Well then, Mr. Bingley, I should-”
The man cleared his throat, trying to stop a chuckle. “My name is not Mr. Bingley. I am merely a guest here. Mr. Bingley is an acquaintance of mine.”
The girl blushed. “I apologize, sir...”
They sat and stood in an awkward silence for a moment. The man was the one to break it this time. “Then, might I ask what I should call you, since you seem so unwilling to give an answer to such a simple question?”
She looked calmly at the man. “I assure you that I have my own reasons for being so difficult in this matter. I suppose that you might call me Kaelin Smith. Now, since I have given a name for myself to you. Might you return the favor?”
The man seemed to be trying to suppress a smile again. “Darcy.”
“Well then, Mr. Darcy, I apologize yet again for disrupting your walk in the hallway. It was no intention of mine to run into anyone.”
“Might I inquire as to the reason for your... brisk walking pace, madam?”
Miss Kaelin blushed again, and looked down into her lap. “Like I explained before. I am unsure of my own whereabouts-”
Darcy sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are at a place called Netherfield Park, currently home to Mr. Charles Bingley. I assure you, madam, that you have no reason to be uncomfortable here.”
Kaelin looked up. “I see... I have heard of Netherfield before...”
“Did you possibly have a destination in walking this morning, Miss Smith?” Mr. Darcy’s face had resumed the composer it formerly held, and was now calmly asking questions.
“I was trying to exit the house as quickly as possible, though I see that that goal shall not be met now.” She half-smiled at Mr. Darcy, trying to say that she did not blame him too much. “Might I inquire as to the nature of your stroll?”
“I could not sleep, and was attempting to go to the library to obtain a book.”
“Ah... I see...”
The two sat in silence for a while longer, until a knock was heard on the other side of the door. Mr. Darcy stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it a slight crack, looking out. “Yes?”
“Master Bingley as woken,” said an older, female voice, “and wished me to announce that breakfast shall be served within the half hour. I suggest that you get yourself dressed in that time, Sir. I will need to wake up the young madam you found yesterday in the woods... I suppose I shall see to it after waking Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.” Kaelin heard footsteps walking away, saying that the conversation was over.
Darcy shut the door and looked at the girl. “I suggest that you get to your room promptly, for I do not believe that the servant would like it very much if I had seen you awake before she or Mr. Bingley does.”
Miss Kaelin nodded, standing up. Darcy held the door open for her. Once outside, she turned around, a playful grin on her face. “I do not suppose that you wish me to tell the others about our meeting, would you, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy’s face stayed completely blank, yet Miss Kaelin figured out his true opinion on the matter.
“I thought not... and you were the one who found me?”
He nodded, keeping his face straight, though a slight color rose to his face. Thankfully, she shadow from the room and door prohibited her seeing it, for it was in her nature to playfully tease others, and herself.
She gave him a smile of pure gratitude, then walked back the way she came to her bedroom, leaving a fairly puzzled Mr. Darcy hanging onto the door.

Sure enough, the older servant came knocking on Miss Kaelin’s door within the next five minutes of her arrival back at her room. The woman looked happy to see her looking so much better, and already dressed.
“I believe that Mr. Bingley and the rest of the house is most anxious to meet you personally, miss. They saw you before when you were in such a pitiful state. Fever running up ever so high, muddier than a pig, you might say...”
A deep blush rose to Miss Kaelin’s face as the woman continued to describe the state she had been in when she had arrived at Netherfield. The woman led her out of her room, down the hallways, and down the main steps. They were now in the foyer, quite pleasantly elegant in its design. The woman turned to her left and walked through a couple of rooms, until they were in the back of the house.
Miss Smith had some difficulties keeping up with the woman, who was walking at an extremely brisk pace. She didn't wish to get where ever they were going in a hurry, and would have rather strolled slowly in order to observe all of the different rooms. They each had their own charms, whether it was the color, or set up of the furniture, or the trinkets found on tables or such. She wanted to get closer, examine them close up. Yet, she had to meet with the woman’s demands.
“Keep up, child! My goodness, walking as slowly as anything... Pray, make haste! I will not have you keep Mr. Bingley waiting!”
Miss Smith nodded her apologies.
Finally, they entered a fairly smaller room. There was a simple breakfast table, with enough room for about six people to sit in comfort. Two very straight-postured, uniformed, white-wigged men stood at the back, waiting for the diners to finish their breakfasts. An assortment of food sat on the table, such as pastries, fruits and hashed potatoes.
“Here is the young miss, Master Bingley,” the servant announced, bowing her head.
“Yes, thank you, Maurie.”
Maurie bowed again, and then left, leaving Miss Smith standing awkwardly at the end entrance to the room. She slowly walked forward, hands clasped nervously together. Yet, that was the only bit of emotion she allowed herself to show. She was a bit proud in the fact that she would not let others see any sign of weakness when she felt most vulnerable. She was also quite independent, and did not like to rely on others a great deal. Her face displayed the portrait of calmness, and she looked fixatedly ahead.
There were five people sitting at the table. One was a large man eating with great gusto as he shoved piles of food down his throat. He wore an ugly brown-gray vest and a matching over coat, paired with dark brown trousers, and had barely noticed her entrance. Another, sitting next to him, was a woman with red hair elegantly curled back into a bun fixed on the back of her head. She had fairly average proportions, and wore a deep, ivy green dress. The woman sitting next to her seemed to be a bit younger and much more thin. She had a white and red dress on, with only part of her hair curled back. The rest seemed to cascade in gradual, stylish curls down her back. Both women had stopped eating, and looked at Miss Smith with extremely critical eyes
Sitting at one of the ends of the tables was a man with hair similar in color to the ladies, yet had a more red-blonde look to it from more time spent outside. He had friendly blue-gray eyes that seemed to be the possible inspiration for her room, and a pleasant smile to match. He smiled wide, slightly awkwardly, and quite different from the rest of his company. He wore a white shirt with a deep, forest green overcoat, and matching pants. He had one leg casually draped over the other.
The last person at the table, Miss Smith noticed, was Mr. Darcy. He glanced over at her, meeting her gaze for a moment only, then returned to the paper he had been reading. He sat straight, unlike the more comfortable posture of his companion.
Miss Smith was now right in front of them. She curtsied, nodding in turn to each of the people. As she rose, the red-haired man stood up. Miss Smith noticed that he was actually quite nice looking.
“Madam, welcome to Netherfield!” he said as he bowed, then returned to his natural posture. Everything about him seemed to smile. “I hope that everything has been pleasant for you?”
Miss Smith smiled kindly. “Yes, sir, quite so. The room that has been provided for me is quite comfortable, Mr....”
“Oh dear, where are my manners?” he gasped. “My name is Charles Bingley. I must introduce you to everyone else present. This,” he started, pointing to the man who was still eating with immense pleasure, “is Mr. Hurst, and my sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst.” He waved a hand in the direction of the woman sitting next to him. “My other sister, Miss Caroline Bingley... and lastly, my friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Caroline and Louisa nodded, keeping their haughty airs, while Mr. Hurst merely grunted, unhappy at being introduced while trying to eat. Darcy, on the other hand, stood up and bowed. Miss Smith curtsied, then smiled pleasantly to each.
“And what might your name be, Miss?”
“Um... I suppose you can call me Kaelin Smith.”
Bingley laughed. “You mean that is not your real name?”
“No, sir... But, I promise to you that I have my reasons, and I might be able to, I might possibly be allowed to tell you of my true name.”
Bingley smiled, completely at ease with her answer. The sisters, on the other hand, were not so easily persuaded.
“I am sorry, Miss... Smith... But you say that there is a reason for why you might not be able to give us your real name? I hardly believe there could be such an honest reason...” stated Miss Bingley.
Kaelin’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “I assure you, ma’am, that I have a very good reason. If you could possibly bare with me, I might be able to tell you some time.”
“Then might you tell us of your age, at the very least?”
Kaelin stared at her in silence for a moment. “I am one and twenty, Miss Bingley.”
Darcy looked back and forth, from Caroline to Kaelin, only with his eyes. He saw the invisible sparks that seemed to travel from both towards the other. Bingley interrupted their thoughts.
“Then might you tell us what the nature was of your... adventures through Netherfield forest?” He grinned, anxious to hear her answer.
“I was traveling to Meryton, for I heard that there was an excellent book store there. I was completely unaware of my being on any particular person’s property, and I apologize immensely for that, Mr. Bingley.”
He waved his hand, shaking his head. “Oh, it is of no consequence to me, Miss Smith! I just wished to know any reason. Are you in need of a carriage to get to Meryton?”
“No, sir, not at all! I am capable of walking, and I deeply enjoy the exercise. I am in no hurry to get there, but may go whenever most convenient.”
Bingley smiled. “Well, please, Miss Smith, feel free to sit down and eat some. I dare say there is enough for twenty more than the lot of us!”
Darcy returned to his seat, and Bingley called for an extra chair. There was already a place set for her, so Kaelin sat down and started by getting some of the meats, potatoes, and fruits, for she found her hunger to be greater than she had thought. She ate quickly, yet with more manners than that of Mr. Hurst, who was still going at his plate without rest.
“So, Miss Smith, you enjoy reading?” Bingley questioned.
“Yes, sir, I enjoy it greatly. It has been a hobby of mine for many years, the love of it introduced by my parents.”
Bingley seemed to brighten up even more. “Well, I assure you, we have a very nice library here. I’m sure Darcy could show it to you better than I, for he seems to spend more time there than myself, though I am not proud of such a fact!” he exclaimed, chuckling in spite of himself.
Kaelin turned to Mr. Darcy, who had resumed his paper. “You enjoy reading that much, do you, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy put the paper aside, seeming frustrated to have been interrupted. He stared into her laughing eyes. “Yes, I do.”
The table was silent for a moment, until Miss Bingley decided that it was much too quiet for her. “So, Charles, Louisa and myself wish to go into town today. I believe that Mr. Hurst will be joining us, for he is to go look at the winery while we look for some new cloth and hats. I believe a new shipment from London has arrived yesterday, for they told me four days ago that it should. Are you to accompany us?”
Bingley smiled at his sister. “I apologize, but I can not. I believe that you will have much more fun looking at cloth and hats and such without me! It is certainly not my forte, though I do not mind such a fault!”
Caroline then turned eagerly to the other end of the table. “Will you join us, Mr. Darcy?”
“I apologize as well, Caroline, but I believe that I shall stay here.” He then silently finished the last bits of food on his plate, and one of the uniformed men came to take it away.
Kaelin, feeling slightly out of the conversation since she had not been invited to go (though she suspected it was purposefully done), turned to Mr. Bingley. “I was thinking, if I may, that I might go out and take a walk around the grounds, Mr. Bingley. The little portion that I saw of your estate was not nearly enough, and has made me quite curious to the rest of it. Do you think I would be allowed?”
Bingley grinned. “Of course! Explore as much as you wish, for I certainly do not do it enough! I am sure that you will discover more about my estate than I know already, and will have much to report.”
Kaelin grinned back, and nodded her thanks, then finished eating. Though she did not see it, Mr. Darcy was looking at her with a particularly curious look set upon his face. It was one as if he was looking at a problem that made no sense, or a puzzle that was impossible to solve, yet he was too stubborn to let it be.