Elizabeth was escorted of of Le Rêveur at a port in Ireland the following day, then sent on a ship back to England. The entire time, she spoke as if Mr. Darcy were only on a trip that only temporarily removed him from her company, and the crew began to fear for her sanity. It was not until she returned to Longbourn a week after the disappearance of Mr. Darcy that her insanity broke. As soon as she crossed the threshold of her childhood home, she collapsed onto the floor sobbing into her hands.

"Lizzie!" cried her sister, Jane, embracing her sister's sobbing form. "Lizzie, what is it? What could be troubling you? Oh, where is Mr. Darcy..."

"Have you not heard, Jane?" asked Elizabeth through her tears.

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzie?" Elizabeth wiped her eyes with handkerchief she had taken from Mr. Darcy's luggage on the ship.

"M-Mr. Darcy, he... He perished at sea..." she finally said, and she burst into tears.

"Oh, Lizzie!" Jane exclaimed, hugging her sister.

"Mr. Darcy is dead? Lizzie, you are a widow now!" Lydia exclaimed.

"A widow? She will have to wear all black now!" Kitty exclaimed.

"A widow? Who is a-" said Mrs. Bennet from down the hall. Her footsteps approached, and she halted when she saw her second eldest daughter on the floor in tears. "Oh, Lizzie! Mr. Darcy!"

"Oh, please! Just leave me alone!" Elizabeth shouted, and she ran up to her bedchamber and slammed the door.

"Mama!" Jane exclaimed. "She is grieving! You must not disturb her!"

"Oh, dear... Mr. Bennet will be devastated to know..." said Mrs. Bennet. It did not take long for the news of Mr. Darcy's untimely death - and Elizabeth's early widowhood - to spread. Charlotte Lucas, a close friend of Elizabeth's since childhood, came to pay her condolences, but Elizabeth would not see her. Mr. Bingley was rumored to have left the country, which was confirmed by Miss Bingley's letter to Jane. No mention of condolences to Mrs. Darcy for her loss were mentioned. A fortnight after Elizabeth's return to Longbourn, a letter reached the family from a Mr. Collins, the man who was to inherit the estate after Mr. Bennet's death. He was to join the family for dinner and pay his condolences to his dear cousin, Mrs. Darcy, and accompanying him was Mr. Darcy's aunt herself, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Elizabeth would not come down for dinner, despite Jane and Mrs. Bennet's many protests, and Mr. Bennet decided that it would be best for all to let her be in her mourning.

"She has no right to be mourning my nephew," said Lady Catherine, cloaked in black herself.

"Lady Catherine, I beg your pardon, but my daughter did indeed marry your nephew," said Mr. Bennet.

"Out of shame! She had shamed him into proposing by kissing him! How dare she?" exclaimed Lady Catherine.

"She did not!" exclaimed Jane, standing.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet!"

"My sister was not the one to kiss your nephew. It was he that kissed her. Mr. Bingley himself said so."

"Jane, please..." whispered Mrs. Bennet.

"Absolutely not, Mama! I shall not allow this woman to insult my grieving sister! She mourns Mr. Darcy and cries for him daily. You do not know her true pain until you have heard her calling for him in the night!"

"I will not be spoken to in such a shameful way!"

"Then you shall leave. We will not mourn the loss of your company. I beg your pardon, but we are far too busy grieving the loss of our brother and son."

"You have no right to defile the ancient name of Darcy!"

"Then I give you all of the responsibility to defile it yourself. Goodbye, Lady Catherine." Elizabeth stood in the doorway, having finally decided to leave her bedroom in favor of company. She was amazed at Jane's sudden change of character, and suddenly she wondered when Jane had last seen or heard from Mr. Bingley.

"Ah! She who defiles the very name itself has decided to join us," said Lady Catherine rather smugly. Elizabeth was dressed to her neck in black, unable to reveal any more due to her depth in widowhood. Elizabeth was dabbing her eyes with Mr. Darcy's handkerchief.

"Lady Catherine, I beg you to leave my sister be," said Jane, rushing to Elizabeth's side.

"Not until she agrees to certain arrangements that strip her of any benefits she may have gotten in her marriage to my nephew," said Lady Catherine. It was Mr. Bennet's turn to step in.

"Lady Catherine, while the presence of your ladyship is honorable to our home, I must ask you to remove it. My dear daughter has suffered enough and I do not wish her to suffer more," he said.

"You shameful clan, all of you! How dare you defile the Darcy name? I must leave this horrible gutter immediately," said Lady Catherine.

"Then my wish has been granted. Good day to you, Lady Catherine," said Mr. Bennet as Lady Catherine left. They all heard her carriage pull away, and Elizabeth sat on the stairs and let out a cry.

"Oh, what must I do to satisfy anyone?" she cried.

"Oh, Lizzie... Come, we must go for a walk," said Jane, trying to pull her sister to stand.

"It is not proper and I do not wish to!" Elizabeth shouted at her, and she ran up to her bedchamber again.

It was another two weeks before Elizabeth really came downstairs at all. She frightened Lydia and Kitty with her highly disheveled and unrested appearance, so Jane was quick to pull her into the parlor to speak with her privately. "Lizzie, please, you must speak to me," she said to her sister, sitting her down on the sofa.

"I do not understand it..." Elizabeth murmured.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Jane.

"This! My reaction to Mr. Darcy's sudden demise! I am sure he thought that when he met his death, I would be rejoiced. To be honest, I thought myself to be something rather similar, if not rejoiced, but I am not! I am devastated and I do not know why!"

"Why, Lizzie, is it not obvious? You may not think it, but perhaps you love him after all!"

"Oh, Jane, that is impossible... I could not stand his presence and every word that left his lips towards me was intended to sting me!"

"Oh, Lizzie, that is not true. You know that is not true."

"Then perhaps it is... Oh, never you mind."

"What is it, Lizzie?"

"Jane, I... I do not quite know, but something is not right..."

"Go one..."

"Jane, I... I believe that I am with child..."

"Lizzie!"

"I was married to him! Who was I to deny him his marital rights?"

"I am not saying so to scold, Lizzie! I am saying so in joy! Oh, Lizzie! A child! And Mr. Darcy's! Oh, it will be a handsome child, will it not? It is a part of you and a part of Mr. Darcy!"

"Jane, I am not quite as handsome as you..."

"Oh, but you are! Do not allow Mama's words to penetrate your opinions of yourself. They did not penetrate Mr. Darcy's."

"Jane, what am I to do? Say I am with child... How am I to raise a child on my own? All on my own? And Mr. Darcy's child, of all things!"

"Dearest Lizzie, you know that I will always be by your side." Elizabeth allowed a smile to stretch onto her face and she took her sister's hand.

"I appreciate it, Jane... I shall need your help now more than ever. Now I must rest, for I fear that I have overexerted myself far too much today."

Before Elizabeth knew it, three months had passed, and she was beginning to show in her pregnancy. Lydia and Kitty were fascinated by it and could not wait for the baby to arrive, claiming to dress it in the prettiest of clothes and ribbons that they could possibly find. "Oh, but what if it is a boy?" Elizabeth would ask them.

"Then we shall find the handsomest of things for him to wear," Lydia would reply, and she and Kitty would giggle and chatter away about the baby. Mrs. Bennet constantly fussed over Elizabeth, insisting that she eat and rest plenty throughout the day for the health of her grandchild, which only caused Elizabeth to laugh. Laughing at her family fussing over Mr. Darcy's child was very good for her, Jane thought, and she encouraged Lydia, Kitty and Mrs. Bennet's antics regarding the baby. Despite Elizabeth's laughter during the day, nothing stopped her from crying herself to sleep every night. Often, she thought she saw Mr. Darcy's silhouette against the window, but she concluded that she had, indeed, gone insane due to Mr. Darcy's early demise, and she cursed him for making her so. Even though she occasionally cursed him due to possible insanity, she wondered at the marvel of lovers' tales in which the lover dies and at night, leaves his living mate a kiss in the night, allowing her to awaken the following morning feeling his warm kiss on her lips. Elizabeth had not once felt that way, but concluded that her opinion on the subject was also a result of her insanity.

Sometime during Elizabeth's fourth month into her pregnancy, Mr. Bingley called on the Bennets, asking to speak with Mrs. Darcy privately. He was granted his wish and met with the widowed Mrs. Darcy in the drawing room. "Mrs. Darcy, how do you fare?" he asked her.

"I believe that I am fine, Mr. Bingley. I thank you for inquiring. How do you fare? I understand that you and Mr. Darcy were close," said Elizabeth.

"Yes, Mrs. Darcy. I am sure you recall when I told you of our meeting five months ago," said Mr. Bingley, and Elizabeth nodded.

"I do..."

"I have come to bring my condolences. I understand that you and Mr. Darcy were barely acquainted, given your circumstances, but I understand also that you were fond of him, to some degree."

"Fond of him, you say?"

"Indeed. Your gaze on him escaped no one, Mrs. Darcy, nor was his on you." Elizabeth blushed slightly and looked at her feet.

"Forgive me, but how are you doing? With Darcy's child, I mean..."

"Quite well. There have been no troubles yet. I fear this child will end up just like him."

"From what I know of Darcy, ma'am, that would be a very good thing. Darcy was a great man; a man like no other I have ever known. I, too, am fond of him, but to a different degree. I have always thought of him as a brother to me."

"He must have been very good friend to deserve such a title from such a man as yourself, Mr. Bingley."

"I appreciate that compliment, Mrs. Darcy... Now... I must ask something of you... I understand that you shall be a widowed mother to a child of a man you barely knew. I can imagine the challenge that would pose to you, and I must know it, perhaps, so Darcy can rest easy... I want to be able to take care of you for him, as he cannot. Mrs. Darcy, when the proper amount of time has passed and the child has been born, will you allow me to take your hand in marriage?"