Section I, Next Section

Chapter One

Elizabeth Bennet Collins stared out of the parsonage window, her mood rapidly deteriorating as she observed the steady rain. For a brief moment, she contemplated braving the weather just so she would gain a brief respite from her obnoxious husband of six months. Oh how did she get here... Playful, independent girl of one and twenty to seemingly docile parson's wife. Seemingly docile parson's wife with child, she thought correcting herself as she looked down at her protruding abdomen. She thought that this could never happen. Her husband was too self-absorbed and too easily put-off for her to be with child. Or at least she thought so. She had managed to dissuade him on their wedding night. I am too ill, she said, feigning a headache and he kept his lecherous hands off of her. Unfortunately, she was not so successful the next night. We must consummate the marriage, he had said. Elizabeth held her gagging reflex for the few minutes the process took. Collins rolled over and let her be. And he had since, for surely he found none too welcoming when it came to her wifely duties. Besides, he was a parson, it was not as if he felt the need all the time. Thank God, Elizabeth breathed. However, one time was all it took and less than a month later, she found herself with child. Her feelings were mixed on this subject. The baby would provide her mind a certain amount of occupation. Hopefully, the baby would be fussy and would drive dear Mr. Collins to Lady DeBourgh for solace. Of course, ingratiating oneself to another was not Elizabeth's idea of comfort. But if it drove him from the house. But the baby would also completely seal her into this union of distaste and... and loathing. Of course, the dream of an annulment was a distant memory, but now it had completely evaporated.

Elizabeth walked away from the window and sat down at the nearby desk. The latest letter from Jane sat upon its surface, waiting to be opened. Elizabeth knew if she opened it now, it would bring tears to her eyes. Wistful remembrances of yesterday weighed to heavily upon her heart. Even her mother's shrill whinings were preferable to Mr. Collins grunts of pleasure over an excellent supper table. That was much more preferable than his grunts of the other kind of pleasure. If he could call it that. The sound still echoed in her mind nearly five months later.

The baby kicked suddenly, startling Lizzie from her chilling reverie.

"Hello, little one." Elizabeth heard herself say tentatively, placing her hands on her distended stomach.

"I must say that I am anxious to find out what you are. Of course, 'little one' is better than 'thing' or 'it', as your father calls you. Pray that you favor the Bennets." Elizabeth said, adding in a conspiratorial whisper.

The baby kicked, seemingly in response and Lizzie smiled. Maybe having a child of one's own shall not be that bad after all.

Chapter Two

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in irritation as she heard her husband come through the front door.

"My dear! My dear!" Collins cried, his feet shuffling through the corridor in the useless practice of hunting for her.

"In here." Lizzie called tiredly. He should know by now that I spend most of the day in the upstairs parlor...she thought.

"My dear," Collins said, coming through the door. "Oh, you must get dressed, Lady Catherine requires our attendance at supper tonight."

Elizabeth waited patiently for him to finish his frantic ramblings before looking down at her gown and asking, "Pray tell, whatever is the matter with the gown I have on? It is only an ordinary supper."

"No, no, no! You cannot go in that!" He exclaimed, barely noticing that she was in one of her better day gowns. "I had told you time and time again that Lady Catherine requires appropriate dress for supper. And this is no ordinary supper! Her nephews have come to visit her and she wants us there to receive. How should it look for the curate to being his wife in an ordinary gown! Now make haste!"

Elizabeth grew quite alarmed. "Mr. Darcy is at Rosings!?"

"Yes, yes," Collins cried impatiently, "along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of the Earl of Matlock. Now, please, go and change." He said, making his way down the corridor and to his bedroom.

Oh no, Elizabeth thought, not Mr. Darcy. Oh how he shall delight in my misfortune! She slowly stood, placing her hand at her low back and waddling down the corridor to her own bedroom. It had been only a week after their marriage when Elizabeth had literally demanded her own room. It was not enough to be separated from him by mere inches in bed, for she wanted her own. She plead deprivation of sleep, which was caused by his snoring, and Collins readily assented.

Lizzie entered her room and went directly to her wardrobe. Whatever would she wear now? She could not let Darcy gain the upper hand. She shifted her gowns and ironically ran across the one she wore to the Netherfield ball. Lizzie looked at it momentarily before moving to gowns that accommodated her present figure. She was only possessed of two supper gowns and she chose a green striped silk gauze. It was actually the finer of the two.

Elizabeth quickly washed up and donned the gown and sat down to tame her unruly curls. What will Darcy really think now? He is such a strange man there is no guessing his feelings on the subject. Most likely he shall feel repulsion with me being in my present situation. Lizzie paused a moment to imagine him staring at her with a slight mocking smile. The thought enraged her, and she tried to keep that in mind as they disembarked for Rosings. The rain had stopped hours ago, but there were still numerous mud puddles. Elizabeth was beginning to despair of them walking when the DeBourgh carriage came to a halt at the door. Collins assisted her inside and soon followed her.

"May I say, my dear, that you look ravishing." He said eyeing her in a fashion that wanted to make her plead morning sickness.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied tightly.

"Do not distress yourself over Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. They are amiable men to be sure, at least Colonel Fitzwilliam is, and I think...."

Lizzie managed to tune him out, as she usually did, for he never required a response. She focused on the wooded scenery that they passed, and wished that she could still stray far from the parish house's confines. Lady Catherine declared it abominable for her to walk alone in her condition, for it was bad for the baby's health. Not like she would know, since it had been over twenty years since she had given birth to Anne. Elizabeth often had a hard time envisioning Lady Catherine as a young mother. Lizzie often gave up imagining and thought that Anne DeBourgh spent the majority of her time in the care of nursemaids.

The carriage came to a halt in front of the massive stairway that led to Rosings equally impressive doorway. Collins helped her out and they made their way into the foyer.

"Mr. Collins, is that you?" Lady Catherine called from the drawing room.

"Yes, your ladyship, it is. I am dreadfully sorry that we are late, Mrs. Collins..."

"Oh never mind! Attend me immediately."

Elizabeth followed her husband tentatively, bracing herself for Mr. Darcy's mockery.

They entered through the doors and Elizabeth dared not to look up before Lady Catherine addressed her.

"Mrs. Collins, do sit down! It is not good to be standing in your condition!" She commanded and Elizabeth took the nearest seat.

"Darcy, Fitzwilliam, this is Mr. Collins' new wife, Elizabeth, formerly Bennet." Lizzie managed to look up and when she did, it was directly at Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Chapter Three

Fitzwilliam Darcy stared back at Mrs. Collins unflinchingly. He managed, as always, to remain distant behind his cool façade. However, inside his emotions were at a boiling point. Shock, disgust and defeat were the first emotions that he identified, and at once he shoved them back down to recesses of his soul. But how could this be! His dearest, loveliest.... No! He could not believe that Elizabeth Bennet, independent thinker that she was, had consented to marry that toad! Whatever had played into a momentous decision such as that. And why had he not heard of it? Even though Bingley and he removed themselves from the Hertfordshire scene, would it not have gotten back to him? And if not him, at least to Bingley since he leased a substantial piece of property in the region.

Darcy calmed his anxiously racing mind and heart, and averted his eyes from Elizabeth's own so very fine ones.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Colonel Fitzwilliam, and a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth heard herself say.

"Again? Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Collins." Lady Catherine demanded, staring Elizabeth down.

"I had the fortune to engage in an acquaintance with Mr. Darcy whilst his stay with Mr. Bingley, who was leasing the neighboring estate to Longbourn. Mr. Collins met him as well, as I have no doubt that he has apprised you of that already."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Collins did inform me of that by way of his weekly letters from your family's estate. I, however, had no idea that you had made such an illustrious acquaintance while with your family."

Elizabeth felt her ire spark, and could not stop the flow of words that sprang to her mouth. "Even though my family was not disposed of a large income, we still moved in the highest society in Meryton."

"Indeed, otherwise, I doubt Mr. Collins would have applied for your hand." Lady Catherine sniffed.

Lizzie clamped her mouth shut and looked away as Lady Catherine began droning on about her conversation with Mrs. Fields, a local parishioner of some merit, at least in Lady Catherine's eyes.

Elizabeth managed to ignore the fact that Mr. Darcy spent most of this time looking at her in the oddest fashion. Perhaps he is wondering whether or not I have taken leave of my senses...she thought with some mirth. What she really did not want to admit was that he was not mocking her in any manner. In fact, he was staring at her in the most absorbed way, as if he were starving for the sight of her... Elizabeth came to with a quick shake of her head, and was quite relieved when the supper bell rang. However, her relief was short lived, as Mr. Darcy continued his intense scrutiny of her as they supped. The only interruption in his painstaking attentions was Lady Catherine's inquiries of Pemberley and his sister, Georgiana. To these questions, he responded in short clipped tones.

The conceit of the man! How could you warm to the thought of his scrutiny when his disagreeable behavior is so obvious? He cannot even carry on a civil conversation with family. Elizabeth mentally berated herself. She occupied herself with the chastisement for the rest of supper and until the party removed back to the drawing room. As soon as they were settled, Lady Catherine demanded, "Mrs. Collins, would you oblige me by playing upon the piano-forte? Although you do not play well, your performance is not wholly displeasing."

"Thank you, ma'am, however I do not think my present condition allows me room to play. And do you not agree that, playing would be to the detriment of the child's health?"

Lady Catherine's face turned sour at the prospect of having her wishes denied and Darcy fought to conceal a smile.

"Really, my dear," Collins interrupted nervously, "would you not oblige us all. Your performance is exquisite."

"It is not!" Lizzie cried in protest, "For Lady Catherine has deemed it only tolerable, and so tolerable it must be and not worth troubling the ears of this party."

"I should like to hear your performance, Mrs. Collins." Darcy said suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at him, for he had barely said three sentences put together for the entirety of the night.

"As I would too, Mrs. Collins. If Darcy would trouble himself to speak, then your performance must have its endearing qualities." Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke up.

"Well then, I am outnumbered and play I shall." Elizabeth said with grudging grace and stood to her feet. She felt self-conscious as she near waddled to the piano-forte. She sat herself with plenty of room to spare and begun a minuet. She held no false aspirations of herself, the performance was not good, hardly the master she knew she could be. Of course, Mr. Darcy had changed seats so he could unnerve her, and much to Lizzie's chagrin, his ploy had worked.

"You shall never play really well, Mrs. Collins, unless you practice more. I have told her time and time again to come use the piano-forte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room, she would not be in the way there." Lady Catherine said, addressing the entirety of the party.

"You are too kind, Lady Catherine." Elizabeth conceded in a sugar-sweet voice.

"Your bountiful beneficence is..." Mr. Collins began.

"Yes, yes," Lady Catherine interrupted. "Everyone comments on my taste in music. And if I had ever taken the time to learn, I should be a true proficient.

Elizabeth nodded her head, and felt sickening feeling of her unhappiness overwhelm her. She soon excused herself to the water closet.

"She gets ill at the strangest times," Mr. Collins commented with a nervous laugh.

"I imagine she does it to herself," Lady Catherine replied, her disagreeableness growing because all attention was not on her.

Darcy stood suddenly and began to walk from the room.

"Darcy! Where are you going?" Lady Catherine called.

Darcy stopped, looking as if he had been caught red-handed.

"I was just going to avail myself upon you r lovely gardens, Aunt. It is a beautiful night (although it was actually cloudy) and I think I should take advantage of it."

"Oh, well, Anne, do you think yourself strong enough to accompany your cousin?"

Darcy felt abject horror, but concealed it with an accommodating look.

"Oh no, Mother! I do not think myself well enough, not after being out today in the carriage, the ride quite wore me out."

Darcy looked relieved, and took off before another companion could be suggested for his disposal. He headed straight for the double doors at the end of the corridor and stopped at the threshold. It was who, rather than what he saw, that answered his silent prayers.

Chapter Three, Part B

Darcy stared out into the darkness of the gardens, letting his eyes grow accustomed to the inky night before setting out. When this was accomplished, he moved slowly to the figure that stood at the wall.

"Miss Ben-err, I mean, Mrs. Collins." Darcy began.

Elizabeth jumped and whirled around.

"Mr. Darcy! You frightened me!" She gasped.

"Oh please, excuse me, you looked so peaceful that I did not want to disturb you."

"But you did." Lizzie pointed out, wondering why he would come out here. Only to add salt to the wound, of course.

"Yes, I mean, I did not want to, but I needed a respite from Lady Catherine's inquiries." Darcy explained.

"Yes, they are very tiring, however try having your every move criticized everyday, and I might have some sympathy for your plight." Her tone was detached and not possessed of the spark Darcy knew her to have.

"I assume that is why you no longer possess the life that you once had."

"And I assumed you found my 'life' as put it, offensive and unbecoming to a lady." Lizzie replied almost angrily.

"I never made mention of it, so why would you fabricate such a lie?" Darcy answered, trying to hold his own anger in check.

"Even you are too well-bred to make mention of something like, however, your distaste for me was more than evident." Elizabeth responded coldly. Darcy found himself unable to argue with her on that point. He knew that he was considered uncivil, but since no one really cared to find out the reason for this behavior, his lack of acquaintances did not bother him overly much. This time, however, he was troubled considerably.

"Appearances can be deceiving." Darcy replied softly and left her. His words and his equally abrupt departure stunned Elizabeth.

Oh that man infuriates me! She fumed silently, not knowing what to think or feel. The only thing she could do was to reluctantly return to the drawing room.

Spring days passed and Elizabeth grew larger by the hour, or at least in her estimation she did. Fortunately, Mr. Collins was involved with his work, and let her be for the majority of the day. When he did surface from his work long enough to ramble about the house or gardens, Elizabeth found herself conveniently on her daily stroll that Lady Catherine thought so detrimental to her health. It was on these strolls that she often encountered Mr. Darcy, who was out riding. They would confront each other without a word and she would disappear onto a nearby path. It was cowardly, she knew, but she did not want to cause herself any more emotion strife. On most days, however she had a companion in Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom she found quite entertaining and amiable. He would accompany her and tell her interesting anecdotes about military life, as well as the travesty of being born the second son of an earl.

"I find the military to be fulfilling, however I do experience days when I wish I had been born the only son, like Darcy."

"If had been born to that position, I am sure you would not be as amiable as you are now. You certainly would not be conversing with me."

"You do not like Darcy, do you?"

"He did not make a good impression with me, or anyone else in Hertfordshire, to be frank."

"Yes, Darcy does possess the knack for leaving a bad impression. So you knew him well?"

"Well enough, all that I wanted. I was thrown into company with for a few days while my sister was recuperating from a cold. She had fallen ill while visiting with Mr. Bingley's sisters."

"Oh yes, the Bingleys. I have always wondered where Darcy picked him up at. They seem wholly unsuited for each other, I think Darcy takes care of him. In fact, Darcy has been congratulating himself on recently saving Bingley from a most unsuitable marriage."

Elizabeth's ears pricked with this information.

"And how was he to be the judge?"

"I do not know the particulars, however, apparently the girl was not very well-connected. And she had a monstrous family, according to Darcy."

Elizabeth stopped.

"Mrs. Collins, are you quite all right?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, concern expressly on his face.

"No, no. I am just suddenly tired; I think I shall go home and lie down. It would not do for me to beg out of Lady Catherine's company tonight due to my exhaustion from an activity she thinks unsuitable for a woman in my condition."

Colonel Fitzwilliam could not help but laugh, and then escorted Lizzie home.

Elizabeth was more determined than ever to avoid the odious Mr. Darcy. To think he actually had a hand in her dear Jane's unhappiness infuriated her to no end. Unfortunately, she could not avoid him forever, considering he often frequented the paths that she did. And he eventually gained the courage to spark some sort of conversation. One day while Lizzie was walking in the grove, she came upon Darcy on horseback, and he effectively blocked her only route out of the grove.

"Mrs. Collins, why do you insist on avoiding me?" He asked, dismounting.

"I would not want to waste your time, I am after all, only a curate's wife. The acquaintance would be distasteful to you I am sure."

"You are fabricating again," Darcy replied unperturbed.

"Maybe. However I am not fabricating when I say that if my sister had married your friend Mr. Bingley, you could no longer keep company with because of the connection. So instead of examining your principles, you had a hand in destroying my most beloved sister. So what say you?" Elizabeth spat.

Darcy had paled visibly.

"I cannot deny that the connection would have been looked upon as reprehensible. I was only looking out for Mr. Bingley's well-fare."

"Well-fare, indeed! And broke my sister's heart in the process. But being cruel seems to be a frequent habit of your personality since my sister is not the only one you have done wrong. Mr. Wickham has felt the sting of your principles, if you can call them that."

"You know nothing about my connection to George Wickham, so kindly refrain from speaking of it." Darcy replied quite heatedly.

"I know enough to know that you used him very ill indeed and I hope you suffer vastly for the despair that you have reeked upon so many lives!" Elizabeth brushed by him and nearly ran down the path, not looking back.

Chapter Four

Elizabeth entered the house, completely out-of-breath and in a dark rage. Mr. Collins heard the slamming of the front door and moved into corridor from his study.

"My dear, whatever is the matter? You look..."

"Quite ill, Mr. Collins? Yes, I am quite ill and actually very out-of-sorts, so please give me peace from your endless questions. And I shall retire for the night!" Elizabeth interrupted crossly and stalked up the stairs as best her figure would allow her. Collins stared after her, alarmed and confused by her brusque behavior. He scratched his head for a moment, and finding his hair quite greasy decided to leave off from writing his sermon and find a bath.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, stripped off her bonnet and flung it across the room.

"How dare that insipid fool! How dare he to interfere in the lives of other people!" She stormed to no one in particular. She collapsed into a chair when she felt the baby kick a virulent answer.

"Ouch!" Lizzie cried and then took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.

"I quite agree," She said in response. Elizabeth leaned back into the chair, taking more deep breaths. She knew her anger was good for the little one and she tried desperately to appease the rage that brewed within her. She succeeded and within the hour, her pulse had returned to normal. However, when a gentle knocking sounded on the door, she was more than irritated and very put out that her solace should be interrupted.

"I said I did not want to be disturbed!" Lizzie cried, flinging open the door. Bridgett, the Collins' maid-of-all-work, stood cowering at the door.

"I am sorry," Elizabeth immediately infused, "I thought you were someone else."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss, but this letter just come from the great house. The boy said 'twas urgent."

"Thank you, Bridgett. Your timely actions are to be commended." Lizzie said, hoping to make amends.

The girl curtsied and scurried down the hall, much like a rat.

Elizabeth shut the door and stared down at the missive. It is probably an invitation from Lady Catherine, demanding an audience. However, the elegant scrawl was nothing like Lady Catherine's condescending script. In fact it had a very masculine look to it. Curious as a cat, Lizzie tore the seal and unfolded the contents.

Dear Mrs. Collins...

Chapter Five

Elizabeth stared at the letter with a mixture of confusion and horror. How? She asked herself. Could she have been so deceived by Mr. Wickham's affability? And now that the truth was in her hands, she had to admit that Mr. Wickham's had been more than willing to disclose the details of his connection with Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth sighed, completely disturbed. She had always thought herself to be a fair-minded person, but now she was facing the fact that she had judged too quickly. She had been all to happy to condemn Mr. Darcy based upon her first impression of him. She had been deceived; deceived by a man's outward coldness and reticence. For all she knew he was withdrawn because of his parents deaths or his sister's near abduction.

Now determined to follow the truth in all ways, Elizabeth made her way to her desk. She needed a second opinion; she needed her dear Jane. She hastily scribbled a letter and came to her feet. She ran to find Bridgett, who had been cowering in the kitchen.

"I need this sent away as soon as possible!" Elizabeth declared. She did not wait to get a reply, but instead returned to her chamber. Once there, she stared at the sheath of paper and her quill. Should I reply to Mr. Darcy? Just to tell him...to tell him what? I should wait upon Jane. Jane shall know whether or not he is telling the truth. Elizabeth decided, although uneasily. The thought occurred to her that he might be languishing away in his own chamber, hoping for a reply from her. Let him! For all the trouble he has caused my dear Jane, he shall have some himself! Of course she tortured him as well. He had been so condescending at the time, she had not even flinched when refusing him. The incident was still firmly imbedded in her mind.

"Your character was unfolded in the recital I received some months ago from Mr. Wickam!"

"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns. Maybe it is he who should be asking for your hand!"

"I should gladly accept him at that. For you are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed to marry!"

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only been ashamed of what mine have been. I best wishes for your health and happiness."

Darcy disappeared from Longbourn's drawing room and soon from Meryton itself. The Bingleys followed soon thereafter; Charles taking Jane's heart with him, and the Sisters nothing but their own pride.

"Too bad they did not take me." Elizabeth uttered ruefully thinking about the next week's events. Wickham had soon disappeared as well; Jane was melancholy all the time; and Mr. Collins was obnoxious as ever. He could not comprehend why Mr. Darcy would condescend to ask for his dear cousin Elizabeth's hand in marriage (although her attributes were great) and still she should have the audacity to refuse him. Mrs. Bennet had taken to her bed for two days and Mr. Bennet to his study. And so Collins had found Elizabeth one day in the drawing room, alone, and thought it an excellent time to discuss what had been on his mind. He did not waste any time getting to the subject at hand, and Elizabeth still shuddered when thinking upon those fateful minutes.

"My dearest cousin Elizabeth your charm greatly exceeds what I ever thought my wife would have. And your refusal of Mr. Darcy only strengthened my resolve that you should be mine. I knew that we were meant to be together when I heard your lovely mother's shrieks of distress. I knew then that you had refused him for me."

Elizabeth choked in horror as Collins lurched forward to embrace her and when she heard the drawing room door open, she thought herself saved. However, she looked to find Lady Lucas staring and gasping in horror and embarrassment at the scene before her.

"Elizabeth! How could you! A lady does not act in fashion...your family shall be disgraced! I only came to visit your poor, sick mother and find you thus...!"

"Do not blame her, my dear Mrs. Phillips, Elizabeth has consented to be my wife...."

Elizabeth felt her ire raise upon thinking of how she had been manhandled into marriage. It had all taken place so quickly. And now upon reflection of the horrible months she had spent as Mrs. Collins, she wished she had accepted Mr. Darcy that day.

Chapter Six

Elizabeth eagerly anticipated Jane's reply, checking the mail everyday, and somehow willing it to the parsonage. There was not much for her to occupy her mind with, being that she was afraid to venture out on a walk. Mr. Darcy had the uncanny knack for showing up whenever she went on her walks and she did not want to confront as of yet. So she was cooped up in the parsonage with her dear husband, who due to rain storms that had plagued them for days, had become more and more attentive as she increased in size. She was now seven months along and feeling as if she could burst. Elizabeth thought she could not handle it if she grew any larger. Two more months...and it will all be over with, she thought, looking down at her protruding abdomen. Collins will never touch me again...I will make sure of that! She absently wondered what the gender of the baby would be. Of course she wanted a girl, and Lady Catherine would not have a say in the naming! If it were a boy, she only hoped he would not come out sporting greasy hair like his father. What a completely uncharitable thing to say about your child! Elizabeth reprimanded herself. She would love it, greasy hair and all. And greasy hair can be remedied by a bath as well, Lizzie reminded herself with a rueful smile.

Lizzie soon grew tired of her self-imposed confinement, as well as Collins' constant supervision. When the rains abated, she thought sure to lose his inquiries to her health and present mood. He always punctuated his conversations with "Are you in pain?" She tried to answer patiently, but finally lost it and declared "I shall not be in pain until the end!" He nodded satisfied and she said softly, "And I shall hate even more than I do now."

Finally, word was received from Rosings that Mr. Darcy had gone up to London on business and would not be back for several weeks. According to Lady Catherine, she would not be surprised if he did not return with a betrothal ring for Anne. They had been in company together much, and had grown quite attached to each other. Elizabeth's brows went up upon reading these words and she felt a twinge of jealousy. Why should you feel envy, Elizabeth! You refused him, so why can you not see him wed to someone else? Elizabeth did not want to answer this question, for the feelings behind her reasoning made her nervous. She was very gladdened when Colonel Fitzwilliam paid her a call.

"How are you today, Mrs. Collins?" He asked solicitously, upon entering the drawing room.

"A large as always." Elizabeth replied with a smile. Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed in response and took a seat.

"I suppose I should not speak on such things." Elizabeth said, a blush staining her cheeks.

"I certainly do not car, but you should watch yourself in front of Lady Catherine, for I am sure she would have something to say on it."

They both laughed on that remark and proceeded to spend several hours amusing themselves. When the Colonel took his leave, Lizzie felt her spirits buoyed and demanded of herself that she should take a walk. After spending the time blissfully by herself, she returned to the parsonage in order to supervise supper. It was then that she spotted a white envelope upon the carved wood table in the corridor. Elizabeth eagerly snatched it up and ripped it open. Moving into the parlor, she eased herself into her favorite armchair.

My dearest Lizzy,

Shame on you for confronting Mr. Darcy so cruelly! Have you not brought enough trouble on his head? However, confrontations have a point and I think it was to clear Mr. Darcy's good name. Although he is prideful, I have never thought him capable of deceiving so many people about his dealings with Mr. Wickam. I have always been of this opinion, but I saw that you had formed an attachment to Mr. Wickam and did not wish to put a damper on it. But now---Oh Lizzy, something very dreadful has happened, but it shall forever silence any questions you have about Mr. Darcy's character. As I told you in my last letter, Father had consented for Lydia to accompany Mrs. Forster to Brighton. I know you were never wild about this event and your caution has been avenged. A fortnight ago we receive an express in the middle of the night detailing the events surrounding Lydia's elopement with Mr. Wickam. Yes, elopement! It has been seen to that he has found another victim besides Miss Darcy, however there cannot be any financial restitution in this happenstance. There were tracked as far as Scotland, and the general consensus is that they were making their way to Gretna Green. However, it appears that they have not married as of yet, and Father has gone to London in order to track them better. Our dear uncle has offered every kindness in this terrible event and they are doing their absolute best to see the couple married. Mother had taken to her bed in hysterics and I hardly know what to do! Oh how I wish for your level head Lizzy, but I know it cannot be for traveling in your condition is out of the question. I shall write when we know more and until then, keep me in your thoughts.

Your ever Loving Sister,
Jane

"Oh my---!" Lizzy exclaimed aloud, clutching the chair for she felt faint fort he first in her life. Collins must have heard her for he rushed to her aid.

"My dearest Elizabeth, what ails you?"

Lizzy could not answer and Collins noticed the letter in her lap.

"The letter...?"

"Lydia---Lydia has e-eloped with, with Mr. Wickam, of all creatures!"

"Oh my." Collins said gravely, clasping his hands around his back. "This does not reflect well on us, my dear. As my wife, you are subject to scrutiny, as well as your family. What are people to think?"

"I do not car what other people think!" Lizzy declared. "My family is devastated and I cannot go to them, because-of this!" She indicated her swollen stomach.

"Do not upset yourself, my dear..."

"I shall upset myself, My family shall be ruined. If it was not hard enough before, no decent man shall want to wed my sisters!" Lizzy thought of Mr. Bingley. Then she thought of Mr. Darcy. When he hears of this, he shall congratulate himself on escaping such a scandal, on helping his friend escape such a scandal.

"I can do nothing!" Lizzy wailed finally, collapsing in the chair.

Mr. Collins moved to comfort her, however the door opened and Bridgette brought a letter.

"This just came from Rosings, sir."

"Thank you, Bridgette." Collins said, moving to retrieve the correspondence. He immediately opened it.

"We are invited to Rosings tonight. Mr. Darcy has returned from town and so a celebration is in order!" Collins said cheerfully. When Lizzy did not reply, he turned to face her. He found her doubled over in pain, unable to utter a cry.

"Lizzy, my dear, whatever is it?" He said rushing to her side.

"The baby. Get--get the d-doctor." Elizabeth whispered, as another pain took over.

Chapter Six, Part B

Posted on August 25,2000

Elizabeth grabbed the bedpost, preparing herself for the next searing pain to rip through her body. The stains of daylight peeked through the window, reminding her that she had been at this numbing work for nearly twenty-four hours.

"Just a few more, Mrs. Collins-and it will all be over with." The doctor told her, but Lizzie paid no mind to him. He had been saying that for the past five hours. Elizabeth gritted her teeth as the next pain seized her.

"Push Mrs. Collins!" The doctor demanded.

"I cannot!" Elizabeth cried.

"You have to!" He said.

Lizzie bore down and pushed with all her might. She screamed in pain, frustration, and exhaustion. And suddenly she fell silent.

The doctor held an infant in his arms but it was not moving.

"The baby..." Lizzie said softly.

The doctor looked grave and handed the infant to the mid-wife. She turned her back for a moment and Elizabeth closed her eyes in agony.

Then, a small cry sounded. Then another, more lusty one. Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw her child squirming in the midwife's arms.

"She is small, but she will make it." The woman said and handed Elizabeth the baby.

Lizzie stared at the crying infant in wonder. She stopped when Elizabeth held her close.

"She is a miracle." The doctor said, shaking his head in wonderment.

"What are you going to name her?" The midwife asked.

"Meredith." Lizzie heard herself say, not knowing where the name came from, but knowing it was right.

"What a fine name." The doctor declared.

"Yes, it is. A very fine name."

"She is taking her time, is she not?" Lady Catherine declared.

"It has been a trying time for me." Mr. Collins said, as he shoveled a bite of food in his mouth.

They were at the breakfast table that morning, with Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in attendance. Darcy stared moodily out the window, but was actually fretting himself mad about Elizabeth. For the last half an hour, since Collins had burst into the house, declaring that Mrs. Collins was still in labor, Darcy had held his tongue.

"Seven months gone, my, my, had she been walking after I expressly told her it was bad for the baby's health?" Lady Catherine demanded.

"She had not been of late, because of the inclement weather, however I think it might have been the shock of finding out about her sister."

Darcy's ears pricked with the knowledge of this information.

"Her sister?" Fitzwilliam questioned.

"Yes, her youngest, Miss Lydia. I was thought she was flighty, and now I have to deal with the association of having a cousin elope. And eloped with Mr. Wickam of all people!"

Both Fitzwilliam and Darcy paled in recognition.

"Wickam, you say? Darcy, was that not the son of your father's steward?"

"Yes," Darcy replied tightly.

"Hmmm... This is severe indeed. The connection will not reflect well upon you Mr. Collins. Of course, I have always questioned Mrs. Collins' connections."

A muscle in Darcy's cheek jumped.

"This early labor shows it, the badly bred always have an inclination to weakness."

"Enough!" Darcy snapped.

Both Lady Catherine and Collins stared at him in shock.

"What right have you to demean Mrs. Collins, especially in a time such as this. You sir, you should be at her bedside, and you madam should hold your tongue!"
Darcy stalked the door.

"Where are you going?" Lady Catherine demanded, her wits all but gone.

"I am leaving, I have some urgent business to attend to. I shall be back eventually."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins sputtering with indignation.

Chapter Seven

Posted on Friday, 22 September 2000

Darcy sat in his carriage, impatiently tapping his fingers on his knee, willing the miles between Kent and London to dissipate. His mind was occupied with Elizabeth more than the business at hand. Had she delivered? Was she in good health? Was the baby in good health? Why did she marry that fool Collins? Why could she not have married him instead? These questions plagued his mind and the same realization surfaced. Life is not fair, I loved her, still love her and she is forever trapped into a marriage that...that is what? Loveless? He could only hope. Hope that her feelings would grow to match his; that is if she forgave him. And that was one of his motives for making an impromptu journey to London. He would revenge himself upon Wickham and save Elizabeth's sister. Then maybe...maybe nothing, he told himself. Elizabeth could never be his and for his past actions he would suffer most grievously.

William Collins sat unenthusiastically, waiting upon his wife and daughter. Daughter. He had hoped for a son, a boy he could have raised in the ways of God. But he had a daughter. A girl who would grow to be just like his wife, a haughty and opinionated chit. He had had a regard for Elizabeth at first, but now after a year, the marriage had grown stale. She would not have him in her bed, so naturally he assumed there would be no more children.

Collins sighed and rose to his feet. Elizabeth gave him a look that could have frozen the warmest heart. He deflected it with an uneasy smile and saying that he would return in a moment. Collins quickly left the room and repaired for his rectory. There was some interesting information that he was pursuing in the parish's records. As far he could tell, a birth had been entered in the records nearly twenty-five years previous. Of course this was normal, however the child had no parents listed, nor a last name. The child was simply named Frederick, and there were no other records of his confirmation. It was a strange mystery he wished to unravel with due haste. If this person still lived in the parish's confines, it was up to him to save his soul. He had been pouring over various letters and death records in an attempt to locate the parents. The only possible suspects had been two women; one Annie Pitts, the blacksmith's daughter, and wife to a tenant of Lady Catherine's husband. She had died in childbirth on the date of the unknown child's birth. The other was an obscure serving girl at Rosings, a Jane Hatfield. She had died from childbed fever two days after birth of the unknown child. She had not been married, so it was very likely that the child was hers and that he had been whisked off soon after his birth or his mother's death. Especially if his father had been of some substance or rank.

Collins closed the book that contained these documents and sighed. He supposed he would have to do questioning of the servants when next he went to Rosings. He could event some excuse to go now... Oh yes, Mrs. Collins had been delivered of a girl and they were both in fine health. That was a good as any other reason, Collins decided and rang for his curricle. This mystery would soon be put to rest.

Chapter Eight

"Really, Mr. Collins, I find this whole investigation of yours rather absurd. Running after an unknown man after twenty years is like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack." Lady Catherine sniffed, once Collins had briefed her on his mission. He had then asked her permission to question her more established servants.

"But, your ladyship, 'tis my job to care for the parish's records. It was a grave oversight by the former curate."

"Maybe, more or less, he knew he place and chose to remain silent," Lady Catherine muttered and then said louder, "Collins, I cannot condone this chase of yours. I think your time would be better served writing sermons and carrying for your bees. Not to mention the fact that your child was born only days ago. How would it look for you to be remiss in your duties as a father? The parishioners might believe you incapable of your duties to guide your flock."

"You are right as always," Collins replied, returning to his usual groveling tactics.

"Good, I was sure you would see it my way. Now. What have you decided upon as a name for the child?"

"Well Catherine of course, however, Mrs. Collins wanted to incorporate her dearest Aunt Gardiner's name as well, so we decided on Catherine Meredith Collins."

"And you are to call her Catherine?" Lady Catherine asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Ahh...well, naturally, I wanted her to be called Catherine, however, Mrs. Collins insisted that we call her Meredith... I put up quite a fuss, but nothing would move her from her decision."

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed even more and she let out one of her characteristic sighs of displeasure.

"Collins, I think you should go home now, I have much to do and Mrs. Perkins will be paying me a call anytime now."

"Yes, your ladyship, I have much to do at the parish house. I bid you good day." Collins rose to his feet and disappeared into the corridor.

"He can be so insipid sometimes." Lady Catherine murmured angrily to herself.

Collins actually stood out in the corridor, looking around very uneasily. He then, as quietly as possible, bolted to the door that led to the scullery and of course, to where the servants resided.

Chapter Eight, Part B

Collins entered in the kitchen, mindful of the odd stares he was receiving. He decided that Cook would be the best person to question, for he knew was Lady Catherine's ramblings, that she had been here since Lady Catherine came as a bride.

Cook was easy to find, she was always the center of attention, the domineering force behind all of the servant's lives. Cook spotted Mr. Collins as he approached her with stealthy steps that only drew more attention to his person.

"Why Curate Collins, what do I owe this pleasure? 'Taint anything I can do for you is there?"

"Cook, I would be obliged...I am desirous of an interview with you, right now, if possible."

"An interview with me? I'd be honored." Cook paused before yelling, "Mullins! Get your self-serving tail over here and finish these dumplings! I have to go out!

"This way, if you please, Curate."

"Thank you," Collins sniveled, looking around and smiling his perfunctory greasy smile and bobbing his head before following Cook to a recessed area where the servants ate their meals.

After taking their seats and settling themselves, Collins hesitantly told Cook of his findings and subsequent troubles.

"I decided to consult your great knowledge Cook, for Lady Catherine has spoken of your superiority and experience here at Rosings." Collins groveled and smiled.

Cook was a simple woman, and easily taken in by flattery. She immediately fell for Mr. Coolins' questions.

She scratched her head, as of trying to conjure up the memories. "I remember a young lass, she was a saucy thing. Jane Hatfield it 'twas! I always said she would never amount to anything and then she became with child and out of wedlock too! We all told her she would surely be condemned to flames of Hell for eternal damnation! And she must have been, for she died two days after the birth of her son!"

Collins about choked with excitement. This was it!!

"Yes, this sounds very promising. Who was the child's father?"

Cook's face immediately darkened and her eyes narrowed fort he briefest of moments.

"The child's father 'twas never known."

"But you must have heard some gossip..."

"Curate Collins! You of all people, condoning that curse of lies! I must go!" Cook got up in a frenzy and began to walk away, however Collins intercepted her with surprising speed and agility.

"If not a name, then could you tell me where Hatfield came from?"

Cook looked him up and down for a moment before consenting. "She hailed from Glouchester, her old man apparently ran her off the place after some scandal."

Collins sighed with a measured breath. "Thank you Cook, your services have been invaluable."

Cook snorted and left Collins where stood. A plan began to formulate in his mind. He quickly left by way of the servant's entrance and hurried down the road.

Chapter Nine

Collins' plan could not take shape until several days later. Lady Catherine had suddenly come up with several tasks that needed his immediate attention, much to his chagrin and Elizabeth's relief. She had finally regained her strength and was on her feet again. Collins would pay her attention now that she was able to have an active influence in his day to day routine. He had kept far away from her whilst she was confined after the birth. He had not taken to Meredith, and while Lizzy would have been disturbed had she been on better terms with her husband, she was not, circumstances being what they were. It was with abject delight (carefully concealed) that Elizabeth took in the news of Collins' departure to Gloucester. She didn't even question him, which made Collins' task even easier. So it was with light hearts that they performed their leave-taking one sunny day. And indeed, it was a beautiful day to Lizzy, almost as if she had been set free from prison as she watched his curricle disappear down the dirt drive. Containing her shouts of glee, Elizabeth returned to the house to tend to Meredith. It was on her way, that she noticed the post, laying on the foyer table. Noticing the elegant hand as Jane's, she quickly went to the parlor to read this latest correspondence.

My dearest Lizzy,

It is with much joy that I write these words--Lydia and Wickham have been found and are now wed! Uncle Gardiner has been the performer of these awesome deeds and I do not know how we shall ever thank him! Father arrived several days ago and we are all anxiously awaiting his return. He was not in spirits and has kept to his library until the receipt of Uncle's letter. I fear Father thinks himself indebted to Uncle, for he knows some great amount of money must have been put down in order to make Wickham marry Lydia. Mother has improved from her rantings and faintings and is quite happy with the news. She longed for Lydia to have her wedding from Longbourne, but Father hushed her from those words.

Be assured that wellness has been restored and I shall write again soon.

All My Love,
Jane

The news came the next day. Elizabeth had been cheerfully employed in the kitchen, with Meredith sleeping peacefully nearby when the knock sounded on the door. Bridget had raced to catch and soon came for Lizzy.

"There's a man, to be sure, waiting for your leave in the parlor, Mistress."

"Thank you, Bridget, I shall be there directly. Watch after Meredith, if you please." Elizabeth replied, and removed her apron. She made her way up from the kitchen and entered the parlor. She found the man waiting upon her, and was disappointed that he was not Mr. Darcy. Shame on you, Elizabeth Collins! She admonished herself.

The man's identity was unbeknownst to her, however he was very official looking.

"May I help you, sir?" She asked, gaining his attention from the window.

"Are you Mistress Collins, wife of the curate?" He asked.

"I am and you would be...?"

"Chief Inspector Jones..." He then launched into his news.

Elizabeth was sure that her face paled, for so shocking was this news.

"Pardon me?"

"I am sorry, Mistress Collins, but your husband has been found dead."

Chapter Nine, Part B

Elizabeth stood at the mouth of her husband's grave, the rain bouncing off the black umbrella and drowning out the voice of the bishop. She seriously doubted that she would have been listening even if it had not been raining. The only thing she could concentrate on was the fact that she was free. Elizabeth had to quell the impulse to smile, for it was bad enough that she was not carrying on like her former husband's parishioners. She looked up briefly and marveled at the amount of people that shown up to see William Collins consecrated to the ground. They all stood either straight-faced with grief or bawling their eyes out, and Elizabeth herself stood complacent, her face expressionless. She was very grateful for the dark veil that covered her face and bonnet for she was sure Lady Catherine would disapprove if she did not see her showing some amount of grief. Elizabeth looked up and the latter personage surrounded by her daughter, Mrs. Jenkins, and Mr. Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam had departed, regretfully so, two days prior to attend a military assignment.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." The bishop droned to a finish. Elizabeth tossed the handful of dirt she was clutching in her black-gloved hand and turned away. Several of the female parishioners sobbingly conveyed their condolences before their husbands had to lead them away, prostrate with grief. Elizabeth stood through all of them, nodding and whispering her thanks, wracking her own mind for some kind of feeling. Numbness was she found. Lady Catherine came along and demanded in a more respectful voice that Elizabeth come to Rosings for supper.

"I would, Lady Catherine, but I must attend to Meredith."

"Let Bridget handle the child, it shall not do for you spend the rest of the day with only a servant and babe for company."

Elizabeth could not refuse. So she followed Lady Catherine and her entourage to the closed carriage that waited outside the graveyard.

Mr. Darcy handed up his aunt and cousin and then Elizabeth. He gave her meaningful glance and she found herself looking a little too long, something she would have never done before. "I suppose death does make you vulnerable," she thought, trying to excuse her behavior as she settled herself beside the carriage window. The short ride to Rosing was surprising stilted and not even Lady Catherine made an attempt to break the silence. However Darcy could not keep his eyes from Elizabeth, who stared moodily out the window.

The carriage pulled in front of Rosings' elaborate front entrance and stopped with a shudder. Darcy immediately got down and assisted the ladies down and at his aunt's insistence, escorted his cousin to the drawing room. Elizabeth stopped in the hall and gave over umbrella, bonnet, and cape to the footman, and then followed the party to the drawing room. She sat down on the settee, and folded her hands in her lap, while a tea was being served. She received her cup gratefully and sipped at the dark brew. Darcy stood at his usual place by the window, holding his cup, but not paying attention to it. He seemed very preoccupied and so his aunt voiced this.

"Darcy, why in heavens name are you brooding so? I know Collins' death has come as a shock, but you barely knew him."

Lady Catherine's directness startled Elizabeth, and she returned her cup to its saucer with a clatter.

Darcy looked up at her, and his dark expression eased to one of concern.

"Really, Aunt, I do not think that is a very tasteful subject."

Lady Catherine sighed angrily, but did not pursue it.

"Elizabeth, dear, have you given thought to what you shall do? I hate to bring up a thought such as this, but Collins' post shall have to be replaced soon. I am partially responsible for the parish's Christianity and I cannot allow much time to go by."

"Aunt Catherine!" Darcy exclaimed, partially in anger and partially in humiliation. And he had thought Elizabeth's family to be tactless.

Elizabeth raised her hand in the air, as if to silence his protestations.

"I have not thought, Lady Catherine, there has been so much to do and...." Elizabeth allowed her voice to trail off.

Lady Catherine gave her a sympathetic look, but it was not to last.

"I suppose I shall return to my family."

"Mrs. Collins you cannot! It would be beneath you! This scandal involving your sister's elopement has not helped the situation."

Elizabeth gasped. "They are my family, scandal or no! And besides, I have had a letter from my elder sister stating that Lydia and Mr. Wickam have been married. So there is nothing to hold me from returning now. My father has already suggested the idea. It would not be beneath me, for they raised me, and it is my only recourse. And now that my husband is dead, the estate shall fall to me upon my father's death. It is my place."

"No it is not!" Lady Catherine contradicted. "You shall take a house, for I am sure Collins left you adequate funds."

Elizabeth cast her eyes downward. "He must have left you under some misapprehension, for there is very little to live, maybe for one, but not enough to encompass the expenses of my baby."

Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Children always complicate things, especially when they are girls."

Elizabeth found herself gasping for a second time. "My child is not a burden, Lady Catherine, I assure you. She is my one source of comfort at this moment."

"Well then, another situation shall have to be thought of." Lady Catherine said decisively.

"What, pray tell?" Elizabeth replied skeptically.

"You shall have to marry again, naturally."

A loud silence resounded at the mere thought of Lady Catherine's suggestion. Darcy turned sharply and to face his aunt.

"Lady Catherine, I am recently widowed, if I marry again, it shall break every social rule in the book."

"Of course, I did not mean right away, Mrs. Collins how could you think that I, should ever suggest such a thing. You shall wait the appropriate amount of time and then marry again to man befitting your social station. And you shall stay here with me and then when you can go into society again, I shall take you up to London in my barouche box."

"Lady Catherine that is very kind of you, but I do not think I shall marry again for a very long time, if I ever."

"But you shall look after you? No, my dear you must marry again."

"And who would want to marry a widow with a babe?"

"I can think of several gentlemen who would look very kindly to marry a widow."

Elizabeth remained quiet. She knew exactly the type of man who would want to marry her, someone who would want her to his housekeeper with the added bonus of bed warmer. She would not marry another man unless it was for love, and her opinion on that subject was already fixed. She would probably never marry again.

"I appreciate you trying to find me a situation, but I do not wish to beholden to another man again. I shall return to my family." Elizabeth said firmly.

Lady Catherine gasped at the shocking suggestion and then frowned deeply.

"I think I shall return home after all, I find myself longing for my daughter. I thank you for your invitation all the same." Elizabeth rose and left the room, without any other word. She was tying her bonnet strings when she heard, "Elizabeth."

She knew it was Darcy and a blush to her face at the use of her Christian name.

"I mean, Mrs. Collins, I am sorry." Darcy amended.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

"I have a proposition for you, and I think it shall solve all of your problems."

"I do not have a real problem, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said softly.

"But you shall. I know you better than you would like to admit, I am sure. And being that as it may, I think you shall be unhappy with your family."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but Darcy raised a hand.

"I know that you are close to your father and your elder sister, but I know that your mother and younger sisters are a trial, and things shall not be any different when you return."

Elizabeth knew he was right. "And so what do you propose?"

Darcy paused and pursed his lips before saying, "Exactly that. I am asking you to marry me."

Chapter Nine, Part C

Elizabeth stared blankly up at Mr. Darcy. She completely devoid of thought, and then finally everything came to her in a rush.

"Mr. Darcy, I..."

"No," He cut her off suddenly, "let me explain. I know you have refused me once, but I promise I have changed."

Elizabeth looked skeptical.

"I know there is no possible way that I can show you in what ways-not here, not now. I can only implore you to trust me."

Elizabeth glanced at the hem of her black gown, knowing what her answer should be.

"I am sure you know what the implications of what you are doing? Proposing to a recently bereaved widow is hardly in taste."

"But people can be made to understand," Mr. Darcy shot back.

"Are you saying that you hold enough prestige and wealth that society will overlook any slip you make?" Elizabeth replied, anger tingeing her words.

"Yes, society would, which is why I proposed..." Darcy stopped, measuring his words, "however it is more that I am worried about you and your Meredith. No other man could possibly be able to do what I am proposing, only a man in the deepest love would risk such a blunder..." Darcy's voice faded, knowing he had said too much.

Elizabeth's expression softened slightly, before she said, "Right now, I do not give much credence to love, Mr. Darcy. I have always said that no man in his right mind would want to marry a woman like me."

"Then I suppose that the late Mr. Collins and myself have a serious weakness." Darcy said softly.

"Then, I shall be obliged to marry you then, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth answered, hardly believing that she found the words to accept him. Why was she doing this? A mere quarter of an hour earlier she had declared that she would probably never marry again. And here she was, accepting the proposal of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the man whom she promised never to dance with, and then had refused a former proposal of marriage. And within a matter of months, she would be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Chapter One

Elizabeth descended the carriage at Longbourn, Meredith on one hip and a satchel in the other hand. She immediately spotted Jane coming through the door, followed by her mother and sisters.

"Oh Lizzie, we thought you had been over taken by robbers! I thought my poor nerves..."

"Mama, do not be so foolish!" Elizabeth replied fondly, and embraced her mother with her. Mrs. Bennet looked blankly at her new grandchild. "Oh, another girl. Would this world be full of them, but she will be welcomed like the rest. Now come inside, before you catch your deaths."

Jane smiled and ushered her sister and niece inside.

"I am so excited that you have come." Jane said happily, as Elizabeth moved up the stairs to her old room. She opened the door and took a deep breath. The smells of lemon verbena assaulted her senses and she smiled. It was almost as if the past year had never happened.

"Is it good to be home?" Jane asked, taking Meredith so that Elizabeth could move freely. The little girl gurgled at her aunt.

Elizabeth looked back at her child fondly and happily, for even at five months old, she was sporting the looks of her mother, and not her father. That was particularly unfeeling! The man is dead and even though you were not happy with him, you have no right to think ill of him. You are starting a new life after all...

Elizabeth found herself voicing her thoughts. "I feel incredibly guilty when think like that."

"Do not trouble yourself. You are starting a new life, after all."

"What do you think about my betrothal?"

Jane shrugged lightly. "I am happy if you are, but I must say that I was a trifle surprised."

"As the rest of the family, I am sure."

Jane smiled, "Of course, no one was much impressed with Mr. Darcy's behavior last autumn, least of all you. What made you accept him?"

"Desperation, perhaps." Elizabeth replied simply and took Meredith back.

"Desperation?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Jane, you know that I cannot stay here, raise Meredith here. Mother is always constantly harping on the subject of money and I received pennies from Collins."

"But you have received Longbourn! No amount of money can compensate for the fact that we no longer have to worry about being evicted after Papa's death."

"It is no matter! My child and I are more mouths to feed. I know we are not destitute, but the money is needed for you and Mary and Kitty. This disgrace that Lydia has brought upon us will not be easily amended. It is amazing that Mr. Darcy would even renew his proposals with all that has gone to pass."

Elizabeth thought about Lady Catherine's reaction when Mr. Darcy had announced their betrothal. She had turned a sickly shade of green before sputtering, "This was intolerable! This cannot be borne! This...this marriage will be a highly reprehensible connection and a disgrace to the Darcy name."

Mr. Darcy had shot Lady Catherine a disapprovingly cold look that silenced her for a moment. She then launched a tirade on Elizabeth shouting that she was "ungrateful and disagreeable! And that she would never be received at Rosings again and that she must remove herself from the parsonage."

Elizabeth laughed, knowing that that would be no great deprivation.

"Mr. Darcy shall care for me and Meredith more than amply."

"But Lizzie, you do not love him."

Elizabeth paused. "Yes, that is true, but when you have another life depending on you, you must forgo your personal wants and wishes. And besides, Mr. Darcy cannot be as bad as Mr. Collins, God rest his soul."

"But what about his odious manner?" Jane asked.

"I have a feeling he has changed." Elizabeth found herself saying, and she almost believed it herself.

"And so the wedding..."

"Shall take place two months hence. Four months is hardly an appropriate amount of time to mourn..."

"Do not fret yourself about that now. You are home for the time being and you should make the best of it."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded in agreement.

Book 2, Chapter 2, Part B

Posted On: Tuesday, 24 December 2002, at 12:04 p.m.

Mrs. Bennett's tea cup fell to the floor with a crash. "Wedding!? Oh my poor nerves, Oh Lizzy, why did you not inform us?"

"Calm yourself, Mama." Lizzy replied. "Mr. Darcy and I thought it best to conceal our engagement-in light of my recent bereavement."

"Oh no, the scandal! First Lydia, and now this-how shall we ever live this down?"

Jane rushed to their mother's side and assisted her to the chaise. Lizzy sighed and gave her betrothed a long-suffering glance. He had been correct in his estimation: Lizzy would have never been able to carry on in this household.

"Perhaps we should take our leave." Darcy suggested quietly, and much to Bingley's chagrin. "We shall call again in a few days." Bingley told them, his words for Jane's ears mostly.

"Thank you both for coming. Perhaps we shall step out next time-in order to avoid scenes such as this." Lizzy told the gentlemen quietly. They nodded and made a quick exit, leaving Lizzy to repair the damage.

The plans for the wedding progressed rapidly. Elizabeth set about sewing a new gown for the upcoming nuptials-as she did not want to look at the one she had worn for her first marriage.

Her new gown was of dove gray satin, a color that befitted her role as a widow. Embellishment was minimal: she used a darker gray silk thread to embroider vines and flowers on the bodice and sleeves. The contrasting embroidery picked up the steel gray layer of silk chiffon covering the skirt.

Mrs. Bennett was calmed after the initial shock of her daughter's betrothal. She was very accommodating to Mr. Darcy when he paid calls, however Elizabeth knew that her mother's allowances were for the sake of Mr. Bingley, who often was in attendance as well.

Before she could count, Elizabeth's wedding day arrived. She was a bundle of nerves, which puzzled her immensely. Why should she worry so? She had been married before. But the thought of consummating the marriage still troubled her? It would have to be consummated, she told herself. Her memories of the first time were decidedly terrible. But Mr. Darcy was no Mr. Collins. He was a very handsome man. He had a tall, well-built form that spoke of his sport-his features were dark, his hair wavy. A woman would have to be blind not to affected by him, especially when he chose to smile.

Elizabeth thought about this as she lay in bed, the morning light streaming upon her. Sleep had been minimal, for Meredith had been fussy all night long. She had finally lain down at dawn, but sleep was intermingled with thoughts of her soon-to-be husband. This was a marriage of convenience-so would Darcy want her in his bed? She was put off by the thought, and was grateful when Meredith began to cry.

An hour later, she was not so happy. Meredith had refused to nurse and had been squalling at the top of her lungs for a half an hour. The wedding was a mere hour away and Elizabeth had yet to dress. Fearing that they would all be late, Mrs. Bennett sent Meredith with Hill and she herself attended to her daughter. Elizabeth assured her mother that she could dress herself, but Mrs. Bennett would not be deterred. She knew what state her daughter would turn out in if she dressed herself in such a hurry.

Everyone was in a much better mood when the carriage arrived and everyone was ready. Elizabeth was still stoic, as her stomach was topsy-turvy. The church was only a half a mile away-ten minutes as she would be in front of Mr. Darcy, the parson, and God; pledging her eternal devotion to a man that she hardly knew. A man that at once confused her and excited her.

Elizabeth released a breath when the carriage pulled to a stop. She was handed down and pushed into the ancient foyer of the church. Her parents and sisters moved into the sanctuary, leaving her to trudge down the aisle alone. The old organ swelled with music and Elizabeth found the strength to propel herself forward.

> It was all over in a matter of minutes. At least it seemed that way to Elizabeth. She managed to get to the altar, however she was put off by some unexpected feelings concerning Mr. Darcy. He stood resplendent in white trousers and dark blue coat. She felt her stomach liquefy when he smiled tentatively in her direction. Elizabeth barely had the presence to lift her lips in response.

Once the service was concluded, there was a small wedding breakfast held at Netherfield. Mr. Bingley had brooked all opposition on this matter. Darcy had truly despaired, as his friend had no idea how to plan a party. Apparently he consulted his sisters, and instead of a polite detailed letter, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley descended upon the estate. Darcy was irked, as he had to spend two days fending off Miss Bingley's persistent attempts to discourage him from his marriage. Normally he could tolerate her with equanimity, this time he was not so benevolent.

Miss Bingley had started in their first night together. She made veiled comments as to the unsuitability of the Bennett family. However this time, she did not exempt Jane from criticism. She had already observed Charles's inroads to becoming better acquainted with Jane. Miss Bingley had cornered Darcy in the billiard room.

"Mr. Darcy you must help Louisa and me keep Charles from Jane. He is making it more and more difficult!"

Darcy smirked. "Your brother is fully capable of handling is own affairs."

"You did not seem to believe that several months ago. Our plan has not proven to halt the progression of Charles's affections toward Miss Bennett. We must do something posthaste."

"You might do something posthaste, I however have more important things to attend to. I bid you good night, Miss Bingley." Darcy bowed slightly and strode from the room.

Unfortunately, Miss Bingley was not easily cast aside. The next morning at breakfast, the butler announced that Miss Elizabeth Bennett was here to see Mr. Darcy. He quickly instructed the man to deposit his betrothed in the blue drawing room.
Darcy quickly finished his breakfast and was in the process of standing when Miss Bingley, who had been conversing quietly with her sister at the opposite end of the table, declared loudly, "She has no breeding at all! Barging in on our breakfast without a card or note asking for permission!"

"Caroline," Charles beseeched quietly. As always she ignored her brother. "I have you know Mr. Darcy that Pemberley will become a laughingstock with this woman as its keeper. I should hardly think you would want your dear Georgiana under the influence..."

"Enough!" Darcy demanded, his voice while not raised, was arresting enough to cause the room to quiet. "Miss Bingley, I do not appreciate your attempts to defame my betrothed, a woman who in a matter of two days will become my wife. I would appreciate if you would keep you disparaging comments to yourself." Darcy laid down his napkin and exited the room.

As the carriage made its way to Netherfield, Darcy sincerely hoped that Caroline Bingley would stay far away from all the Bennetts. He looked up and found Elizabeth staring out the window. She looked rather peaked, however that fact could not detract from her beauty. He had caught his breath when he saw her at first, moving down the aisle towards him. He knew he would remember that moment for the rest of his life.

"Mrs. Darcy, are you unwell?" It felt strange to call her by her new surname. He had not gained her permission to call her Elizabeth. However 'Mrs. Darcy' was eminently preferable to calling her 'Mrs. Collins.'

Elizabeth looked up, startled from her reverie. "Do I look unwell?" She asked quietly.

"You look concerned, however that cannot detract from your beauty." Darcy replied solemnly.

Elizabeth colored. He thought her beautiful? Normally she would have laughed at such gallant compliments; this time she found that she could not. She desperately wanted to believe him.

"'Tis just that Meredith was up most of the night, and I could not console her, even this morning. I believe that my preparations for the wedding were strained as a result."

"I am sorry to here that Meredith was unwell. Perhaps she can sense the change coming to her life."

"Do you think a six month old could tell?" Elizabeth asked, truly beginning to wonder.

"Meredith seems to be a remarkable little girl, I should think that she could.

Elizabeth warmed to his praise for her daughter.

Silence elapsed until the carriage pulled up the drive to Netherfield, before the carriage halted, Elizabeth said tentatively, "Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy looked to her fine eyes. "Yes?"

"You may call me Elizabeth now, if you like."

"Thank you, I shall, Elizabeth." He exited the carriage and handed his wife down gently. "You should call me Fitzwilliam." He told her as they ascended the stairs. She did not reply until they gained the landing. "That should be strange," She replied finally.

Darcy looked at her, and answered puzzled, "How so?"

"I call the colonel 'Fitzwilliam'." Elizabeth replied. Darcy felt his heart wrench; was she on such close terms with his cousin?

"Then call me what you like." He found himself saying.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Can I call you just Darcy?"

"I brook no opposition." Darcy replied, trying to sound unaffected. He propelled them through the open door and into the great hall of Netherfield.

The wedding breakfast passed uneventfully, and before she knew it, Elizabeth was ascending Darcy's carriage to leave. They had been offered a chamber at Netherfield, but Darcy preferred to start out for Pemberley. They would ride most of the day and lodge in an inn over night, hopefully making Pemberley by midday the following afternoon.

The trip was awkward to say the least. Elizabeth was occupied with Meredith and Darcy tried to absorb himself in a book. Instead, he found himself very much aware of the woman he had married. She had changed from her wedding clothes into a simple blue muslin. She sat in the fading light of day, reading a book to her daughter. Darcy could hardly believe that he had acquired a family in one move. He did not mind-Meredith was a lovely child, and he very much hoped that she would come to look upon him as her father.

He also hoped that, perhaps one day, Elizabeth would consent to having children of their own. He smiled at this thought-he could imagine her with his child. And when her time came, he would be right by her side-propriety be hanged! But he knew that his thoughts were fond fantasies, for he was aware of Mr. Bennett's words to him. He would have to tread carefully if he wanted to gain Elizabeth's love. And that was why he was apprehensive about tonight.

The marriage had to be consummated, but he did not want to force himself on an unwilling woman. He looked at Elizabeth. Would she abide by her duty or would she be unwilling? The thought of her refusal was heart wrenching. He continued to think about the situation and before he knew it, they had reached the inn. The moment of truth was not far in coming.

Elizabeth was equally unsettled by the coming of night. She had not the faintest idea what she was going to do. Could she find the strength to put off Darcy?

Continued In Next Section

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