Chapter 1: Bacon
It happened very quickly, Elizabeth realized later.
The morning after the Netherfield ball, her family gathered in the breakfast room for a leisurely meal. Lydia and Kitty, only just out of bed, argued over a slice of bacon.
"Mama!" Lydia called. "Kitty has stolen the last piece of bacon just as I was going to have it."
"Ha!" Kitty taunted her sister and took a large bite.
Sitting across from them, Mrs. Bennet closed her eyes momentarily. "Girls! Do not fight over food! Particularly in front of your cousin!" She nodded cheerfully at Mr. Collins, who chewed his breakfast wordlessly across the table from her. "Cook is preparing more. There will be plenty of bacon for everyone in a few moments."
Jane's gaze met Elizabeth's as she arched an eyebrow at their sisters' antics. All knew they were supposed to be on their best behavior in front of Mr. Collins, while also acknowledging how quickly that pretense had fallen away.
"I danced more at the ball, therefore, I am in more need of sustenance," Lydia said. Elizabeth cleared her throat pointedly and met Lydia's gaze.
"By that argument, Jane should eat the most. She danced more than any of us," Kitty said.
"That is because she is lucky enough to have golden hair. But I have a more vivacious personality."
"That is true, Lydia." Mrs. Bennet said, biting into toast.
"Elizabeth danced almost as much, and she does not have golden hair. She even danced with Mr. Darcy," Kitty said.
Elizabeth scowled. "Don't remind me. I'm still not sure how that happened."
For his part, Mr. Collins seemed to not know where to look. His gaze fell upon each Bennet daughter for a moment. Elizabeth guessed he found the feminine energy of Longbourn more boisterous than expected. She and Jane would laugh at this later.
Lydia turned to her sister, Jane. "Pray, is Bingley very much in love with you?"
Jane, for her part, reddened deeply. "Lydia, where do you get these ideas?"
"Of course he is in love with her!" Mrs. Bennet said. "He danced with her on two separate occasions! We shall have a wedding before the year is over. Or spring at the latest."
"Mama," Jane looked down uncomfortably. "That is not true."
"Oh," Mrs. Bennet waved a glass she held to Mr. Collins. "Jane is modest. I know true love when I see it, even in its early stages. Mr. Bennet, am I ever wrong?"
"In my considerable knowledge, not knowingly," Mr. Bennet said, taking a bite without looking up.
Mr. Collins addressed the table solemnly. "Marriage is a most honorable institution. I hope I will be fortunate enough to soon settle with a wife." With the last sentence, his gaze fell meaningfully on Elizabeth, his eyes large and round. She nearly choked. From somewhere down the table, someone tittered.
Mr. Bennet set down his fork and stared off into the distance. Elizabeth wondered if he had finally reached his limit of the silly morning prattle.
"Are you quite all right, Papa?" Jane asked between spoonfuls of porridge. "Would you like more eggs?"
He was silent for a moment, before touching his fingertips to his temple. "Oh, yes, just a slight headache. Too much port last night." He smiled. Elizabeth noticed that his fingers trembled.
"Papa?" Elizabeth said.
He waved away her concern. "Not at all. I'm quite well." But instead of continuing to eat, he stood up, his plate still half full.
"Papa, what are you doing?"
As though he hadn't heard her, Mr Bennet did not answer, but pushed his chair in and walked away from the table.
Elizabeth looked at Jane and they both shared a grin at his odd behavior. The conversation around the table ceased as all watched him take several steps away before he paused, midstride.
"Papa?" Elizabeth asked again.
Even Mrs. Bennet stopped talking and noticed. "Mr. Bennet, what are you about?"
Elizabeth froze in her seat. Something was wrong.
Her father turned to look at them, his gaze unfocused, before his legs crumpled under him, and he fell to his knees. Elizabeth jumped from her seat and rushed to him. "Papa!"
He sank into her arms, blinking before his bloodshot eyes closed.
Mrs. Bennet stood up and shrieked to the heavens. "He is gone!"
Elizabeth pressed a hand to his cool face. He was pale and his mouth hung slightly open. But he was still breathing. His chest moved up and down slowly. Next to her, Jane joined her, followed by her mother who stood nearby and wailed into a handkerchief.
A surprisingly strong hand encircled Elizabeth's wrist as Mr. Collins pulled her away. "Come now, Cousin Elizabeth, let's let the footmen tend to him."
Elizabeth struggled against his grip. "No, I want to stay." But he was stronger than she and he pulled her away from her father's side.
Jane quickly grasped Elizabeth's other hand. "A groom has been sent to town to fetch the physician."
Elizabeth nodded, tears streaking down her face. Three footmen picked up Mr. Bennet and carried him to a love seat in a sitting room.
Mr. Collins appeared at Elizabeth's other side, his shoulder brushing hers. "Cousin, do not distress yourself. The physician will come, and if anything can be done, it will."
Odious man. Elizabeth forced in a deep breath to calm herself. He was the last person she wanted here now. She angeled her shoulder away so it did not touch his.
"I must go to Mama."
Mrs. Bennet wailed, deep in floods, clinging to Mary's side. Elizabeth instantly saw where her attention was needed. "Kitty, get Mama's salts." The girl ran upstairs and Elizabeth helped her mother to a nearby seat.
"There, there, Mama. Take a seat and we shall wait for the physician."
"Oh, he is gone. I know it! What will become of us?" She glanced up from her handkerchief and shot a bloodshot look at Mr. Collins. "We shall be cast out!"
In the adjacent parlor, a footman bent over Mr. Bennet, trying to speak to him.
"Does he answer? Oh, he is a vegetable! I just know it!"
"Mama, please stay calm," Jane said, joining her mother's side. Elizabeth saw her sister's fear in her eyes. She would remain calm, even if no one else in the family could.
"We shall wait for the physician, Mama. Have Mrs. Smith bring Mama some tea."
"Yes, tea," Mrs. Bennet said, her sobs falling off to an infrequent hiccup. "Tea would be lovely."
