Long-winded author's note:
This story is heavily inspired by Le Quadrille de Bologne, an hilariously funny spy novel by French author Charles Exbrayat. I didn't keep the spying component, though. Also, if you read French (I don't think his works have been translated) and come across one of Exbrayat's novels, do read it (fair warning: they're usually either hilariously funny or depressingly sad. Sometimes both).
Characters in my stories will be by definition OOC, since I'm not Jane Austen. Sometime this will be deliberate, as in this story (written with a "CrackFic" theme in mind). Also, keep in mind that I do not particularly try to make my characters perfect - or rather, that I do not consider that whatever a character does must be the right thing to do, even if that character is one of the Good Ones. I am interested in listening you rant about them and would even be happy to explain my choices if you wish me to - but it can only be done if you don't comment as a guest (I love all reviews, but it can be frustrating when a guest does have a point and I can't address it - or acknowledge that s/he's right).
Longbourn, early March 1812
Charles Bingley, after an absence of some months, had decided to come back to the estate he leased in Hertfordshire. He had come to the sudden realisation that Jane Bennet, the angel he had left in the country, still held his heart. He was also reasonably certain that she returned his feelings, and planned to resume his courtship of her, which was why, before even putting foot at Netherfield, he had decided to call on Longbourn to see her. The butler had opened the door on seeing him coming.
The house was more silent than he remembered, and Mr Hill led her to a small sitting room and served him a glass of brandy that Bingley quickly emptied.
"I see you were thirsty."
"I blame my journey," Bingley laughed.
"You are lucky to be able to travel as you please. It is instructive and, sometimes, comforting, too."
"Be reassured, Hill. I have no need to be comforted."
"One never knows when that might happen, sir."
Bingley laughed again.
"Now, will you announce me to Miss Bennet?"
"Miss Bennet is not home, sir, and neither is the family."
That certainly explained the silence.
"Are they travelling?" That would be just his luck—coming back while she was away!
"No, sir. They are at church."
"On a Tuesday?"
"For the wedding, sir."
"Oh." Bingley recalled that, when he had last seen Jane, a visiting cousin had been there and he seemed to pay a lot of attention to her younger sister.
"Is Miss Elizabeth the one marrying?"
"No, sir."
"One of the Bennets?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who?"
"Miss Bennet, sir."
"What? Which Miss Bennet?"
"Miss Bennet, sir. More brandy, sir?"
Bingley did not answer at first.
"But … but … She loves me!"
"I am afraid, sir, that experience teaches us that we do not always marry the ones we love."
"I was so certain …"
"If I may, sir, I will say that Miss Bennet was truly and sincerely disappointed when you left. She cried a lot before she resolved herself to agree to marry Mr Collins."
"Collins? She married Collins?"
"Not yet, I believe, but it should be done in about fifteen minutes."
"Why on earth could she find in this buffon to agree to marry him?"
"Disappointment can lead to many stranger things, sir. Mr Collins is promised to great things through the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
"Hill, I feel confident she does not love him."
"It is a conviction I share, sir, but this does not matter much anymore."
Bingley leapt and strode towards the door.
"We'll see about that! In what direction is the church?"
Hill had followed him and, on giving him his hat, pointed towards a path.
"I wish you all the luck, sir. May I add that, had I been in your place, I would have left long ago?"
Bingley did not listen, he was already gone.
Longbourn Church, a very short time afterwards
"Jane, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband—"
"No!"
Everyone turned. Charles Bingley stood in the narthex, panting. The minister frowned.
"I love you, Jane, you cannot marry him since you very well know you love me!"
Lady Lucas gasped. Mrs Bennet called for her salts.
"Ah, you love me?" said Jane, once she had recovered from the shock of seeing him. "Why, then, did you leave without even a word?"
"I … will explain it to you later."
"Too late, sir." Miss Bennet turned back to the reverend.
"She cannot marry Collins, sir!" shouted Bingley.
"An why would that be, young man?"
"Because … we're already married, and she carries my child!"
The volume of the conversation in the pews increased even more.
"Lies!" shouted Jane. "He lies in order to put a stop to my wedding! He wants to put a stop to it because he loves me and knows that I love him back!"
"Jane!" squeaked Mr Collins.
"Jane, maybe you should reconsider," said Miss Elizabeth, who was her sister's witness.
"Not one day passes without you asking me to reconsider, Lizzy."
Collins glared at Elizabeth. The vicar coughed.
"Wilt thou, Jane, have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?""
"I forbid you to do so, Jane!" a desperate Bingley cried.
"You have no right to forbid me anything!" And, turning towards the minister: "Yes, I will have him! I will!"
"One would have sufficed."
A stricken Charles Bingley witnessed the remainder of the ceremony.
Later, at Longbourn
As the guests milled in, Jane began to wonder whether it had been wise to act as petulantly as she had and marrying out of spite. Accepting Collins's hand had made sense when she was certain Bingley would not come back, but now that he had, she hoped that she had not made the biggest mistake of her life. Mr Hill's disappointed glances certainly helped her to come to that conclusion.
She stepped into the hall to regain some countenance, when Mr Bingley entered the house. He appeared so miserable that Jane's heart broke, and she ran to him.
"Charles! I am so sorry."
"No more than I am, my love."
"Why did you leave?" she entreated. "One word from you, and I would have waited forever."
Instead of answering, Bingley took her in his arms and kissed her. Things were heating up, and there is no saying how far things would have progressed had Mrs Bennet not stepped in the hall at that exact moment.
"Jane!" she cried, and the star-crossed lovers jumped apart. "You are not supposed to do that until you have given Mr Collins a son, you know."
Jane squealed, slipped out of Bingley's embrace, and came near her mother.
"I was not thinking! I will not betray Mr Collins. He will give me the peaceful life that I wish for! He will be furious to see Mr Bingley here," she said, wringing her hands.
"Go back to Collins and leave it to me, Jane. Your husband will not say anything if Mr Bingley enters with the mistress of this house."
Jane complied, and while they were alone Mrs Bennet addressed the young man.
"I am disappointed in you. Why have you not come back earlier? I would have much preferred you as a son-in-law. His praises of Lady Catherine grate on my nerves!"
She then entered the drawing room, Bingley on her arm, and went straight to Collins. Before any of the men could say anything, she spoke.
"Mr Bingley has come to apologise for his earlier outburst."
"My dear sir," Collins said with a bow. "I can very well forgive your disappointment. Why, I myself was desolate on first believing that my dear Jane was out of my reach, though luckily it proved not to be the case. I will magnanimously forgive your impetuosity, which, I believe, can be attributed to your youth."
"Would you mind proving it?"
"But of course, Mr Bingley. What would you have me do?"
"Go kill yourself!" the younger man all but spat.
"How dare you!"
"I do not think this was too much to ask," shrugged Bingley. "What better way to prove his remorse at having stealing my Jane than allowing me to marry his widow?"
"Mrs Collins for you, sir!"
"She will always be Jane Bennet to me!"
"Mr Bingley," said Jane. "You had your chance in November. Come, Mr Collins. Our carriage is ready, it is time for us to leave."
Bingley looked towards the Collins' carriage as it disappeared down the lane. Sighing, he then went back to Netherfield. If his valet was as efficient as usual in packing, they would be on their way to London before the day ended.
An inn between Meryton and London, several hours later
A heavy downpour had prevented the Collinses to make much progress. They had stopped at an inn, where they were shown to a suite made of two rooms. Her husband had told Jane to go ahead and change while he waited for her. After the maid who had helped her was gone, Jane allowed herself some moments of contemplation. Despite her regrets at her fit of temper, she was decided to make the best of her situation. Collins was not very clever, but he was not a bad man either. Moreover, he was deeply devoted to her. How long would it have been before Bingley pursued another young lady? Such an inconstant man would not have stayed true to her.
She draped herself in her dressing gown and went back to where her husband was waiting for her. When she step foot into his room, she could not refrain to scream. Mr Collins was tied up to a chair, and a Militia officer was hovering about him. On hearing her, he turned around.
"Ah, Mrs Collins!"
"Mr Wickham," she answered coldly. "May I know what led you here?"
"You may, but I may choose not to answer."
Whatever Mrs Collins had to reply flew out of the window when the door crashed open with a bang.
"Mr Bingley!" said three voices in unison.
The gentleman did not return the greeting but leapt on Wickham. After a short struggle, the officer was dispatched down the stairs. Subsequent hoofbeats suggested that he was now riding towards London.
"Charles!" said Jane. "Are you hurt? I was so afraid!"
"I am well, Jane."
"Truly?" she asked, taking his face in her hands.
"Truly," he answered, enclosing her in his arms. They kissed again. And again. And were interrupted by a loud cough.
"Will you stop kissing my wife and please untie me?"
"No," said Bingley, shrugging, and he endeavoured to steer Jane towards the other room. Mrs Collins, however, had regained her bearings and rushed towards her husband, whom she freed. The first thing he did was to jump towards Bingley and punch him. The gentleman did not expect that and fell on the ground. He might have sustained some injury had the door not slammed open once again.
"Jane!"
"Bingley!"
The most improbable pair had just entered the room.
"Mr Darcy? I thought you were in London. What is Cousin Elizabeth doing with you?"
As soon as Collins's focus had shifted, Jane tenderly applied a cold rag on Bingley's jaw and cooed over him.
"I heard you were back in Hertfordshire and went after you," the gentleman from Derbyshire answered.
"He wanted to separate Mr Bingley from you. Again," Miss Bennet said with a glare.
"Miss Bennet was worried about her sister, and I offered her to come with me."
"I had to make sure he would not drag his friend away from you."
"Really, Cousin Elizabeth, this has to stop. You did everything you could to separate me from your sister. Your endeavours failed, you should accept this and graciously retire from the field."
"Never!"
"Well said!"
This made Collins turn back towards Bingley.
"Mrs Collins! What are you doing, embracing that man again?"
"You hurt him!" she said in an accusatory voice, not releasing her hold on him. Bingley's arms had not stayed idle and he was now holding her waist.
Collins reddened and opened his mouth. However, nothing but a strangled sound was heard. A minute later, puzzlement made room for worry when the clergyman crumpled to the ground. Nothing they could have done helped. Mr Collins died from apoplexy less than twelve hours after he married.
Longbourn church, one year and a day later
The year had been eventful. Mr Bingley had spent most of his time at Netherfield, and his friend has often visited with him. They had visited Longbourn, and at some point Darcy had won the heart and the hand of Miss Bennet—now Mrs Darcy. As for Bingley, he had showed Mrs Collins that he could be true to her, and his persistence had paid: there were now facing each other in front of the minister. This ceremony was much more peaceful than the one that had taken place the previous year. Seated in the back pew, Hill smiled.