Vampire and Prejudice

Chapter 2 - Elizabeth

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me," said Mr. Darcy and soon enough departed, an uncaring air to his rude manners. I, about whom this praise was uttered, stared in shock for a moment and then burst out laughing to an immense relief to my companions. To have a girl burst in tears at such words might have been expected, but I had opinion enough of myself to not take it to heart too much.

"I suppose the verdict is in—Elizabeth Bennet is no temptress! Mamas far and wide may cease hiding their sons and bring them to balls so that all women can have their share of dancing—even the barely tolerable ones!"

"Miss Elizabeth! My word, to laugh at such a matter," exclaimed Miss Robinson. "You should instead plot your revenge. I certainly would."

"Isn't laughing at such a fastidious nature vengeance enough?" I asked. "Mr. Darcy of Pemberley believes in his importance, and my punishment for him is not to see him as important at all. His opinions cannot harm me but certainly can harm him."

"Harm him?"

"It is the habit of newcomers, I suppose, not to give much consequence to the strangers they insult. For such as myself, who has spent my whole life in these circles and will likely count my last days among them, exclamations of a most fastidious nature are forbidden for a simple fear that they would become known to everyone, and everyone would hold them over my head for the rest of my days. This incident might not haunt him for the rest of Mr. Darcy's days, but it may haunt him for the rest of his stay."

However short it may be.

"How have you vexed Miss Robinson ?" cried Lydia, my youngest sister, fresh from a dance.

"I have done nothing, it is all Mr. Darcy's fault," I explained with an air of haughtiness.

"Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley's friend? I thought he was too good to converse with anyone."

"That he is, but he feels himself much more capable of conversing about someone."

"Tell me!" Lydia demanded.

"Tell you what?" Catherine, my second youngest sister, joined us.

"Lizzy is telling tales about Mr. Darcy," Lydia explained.

"Out with it at once!" cried Catherine, fond of new gossip just as much as Lydia, especially since new information about Mr. Darcy was hard to come by. He was of Pemberley, he was rich, he was a vampire, he was unpleasant—those were the lone facts known about the prince of disagreeableness.

"Well, he stood just there, proud and stately, and was accosted with a possibility of an introduction to a certain Miss Elizabeth Bennet so that he would be able to ask her to stand up with him. He recoiled from such a nightmare as if from the sunlight itself and hissed, 'HER! She is barely tolerable to dance with, certainly not handsome enough to tempt ME!' After these words, he promptly turned into a bat and flew into the night."

"But he's standing right there!" cried Lydia.

"Obviously he has just returned," I explained.

"What nonsense stories you tell!" accused Catherine.

"I have witnesses." I turned to Miss Robinson and so did my younger sisters.

"He did not recoil, he did not hiss, he did NOT turn into anything and remained to be himself," she said. "But the words did escape him. Most ungallant of him. I dare say he would not act so disagreeably towards a young lady if she had a brother present to defend her."

"He would not dance with you because you are not pretty enough?" Lydia recounted with disbelief. An accusation of this nature to one of the beautiful Bennet sisters was an accusation to them all.