Influence & Grace | Mr. Darcy [PPZ]

III

three | 03.

PRAGMATISM.

The crowd seemed to part for them almost instinctively, people stepping aside with murmured greetings and nods of deference, as if merely being in their presence was an event of its own.

She forced herself to look away, focusing instead on her sisters beside her, but not before Charlotte Lucas slipped through the throng to join them. Charlotte's gaze was fixed on the tallest of the men, her eyes bright with speculative interest.

    "That's Mr. Bingley." She murmured, her voice low but urgent, as if sharing a secret of utmost importance. "What a magnificent husband he would make."

    Her gaze seemed to burn holes into him, tracing every line of his features—the warm, open expression, the relaxed elegance of his posture, the way his brown hair fell in soft waves just above his forehead.

    He was indeed a handsome figure, his demeanor exuding a kindness and generosity that was immediately appealing.

    "Charlotte Lucas," Elizabeth chastised, shaking her head with a smile that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "Do you think of nothing else?"

    "Zombies or no zombies, all women must think of marriage." Charlotte replied, a touch of humor in her voice though her eyes never left Mr. Bingley.

    There was a determination there, a steely resolve beneath her genteel exterior. Mary understood it all too well. For women like them, marriage was not just a romantic ideal but a necessity, a form of protection in a world where so little could be controlled.

    And yet, Mary couldn't help but feel a wave of skepticism rise within her. The world outside was teetering on the brink of chaos, and still, the demands of society pressed down on them like an iron weight.

    It was a bitter irony, this obsession with propriety and matrimony when their very survival was constantly under threat.

    To Mary, it felt like rearranging the deck chairs on a sinking ship—an exercise in futility.

"I shall never relinquish my sword for a ring." Elizabeth declared, her voice low but fierce, the words carrying a weight of conviction that left no room for doubt. She stood tall, her chin lifted, a warrior's spirit blazing in her eyes.

Mary felt a surge of gratitude for her sister's unwavering strength.

"For the right man, you would." Charlotte teased. Elizabeth's smile was sharp, almost feral. "The right man wouldn't ask me to."

The conversation was cut short as Mrs. Bennet descended upon them, her face flushed with drunken joy, flanked by Mrs. Long and Mrs. Breach, both of whom were brimming with the kind of salacious gossip that could only have been gathered from relentless speculation.