Start of Canon Pride and Prejudice….
Elizabeth smoothed down her gown, trying to keep her nerves steady as Mrs. Bennet jerkily fixed her hair into an elegant and simple updo. She winced, drawing her shoulders in as she was stabbed with a pin once again. Beside her, Jane reached to touch her mama's shoulder, already dressed for the coming assembly. Mrs. Bennet turned to Jane.
"Mama, would you like a glass of port? Mr. Hill put a few bottles of Papa's port in my and Kitty's room, in case I had need of it during the night." When the Collins had arrived, Jane's use of laudanum had been curtailed, citing the price and knowledge that use of it would not return her ankle to its natural state.
Mrs. Bennet nodded gratefully, and Elizabeth could not help but embrace her mama. The woman that was her mama would have been flittering up and down the stairs for the whole of a full three days before the assembly would occur, making sure that her girls were arrayed in the finest garments their money could buy, simply for the fact that a wealthy, honorable gentleman was to be their new neighbor. A possible match for one of her girls. For Jane, the loveliest of all the Bennet sisters. And now that would never come to pass.
"Mama," Elizabeth could not help but say, "everything shall all come to pass it as it should. We need not worry ourselves with situations we cannot change." Kitty entered the room, bearing the small glass of port that Mrs. Bennet swiftly drained in a single turn. Elizabeth held back a wince, as her mama began to gain more and more of a tolerance for such a drink-like the elder Mr. Collins.
"Of course, Lizzie, I do not blame you, nor dear Jane! Oh how I wish your father had not taken my dear girl in that carriage! We would not be on the verge of starving in the hedgerows!" she said, grasping the hands of an uncomfortable looking Jane.
Elizabeth tried to soothe Mrs. Bennet-"Mama, we shall not starve-" Mrs. Bennet continued on, "Of course that peridious Mr. Collins shall marry you when your father is cold in his grave, but that man is just like his father! A miserly fool who shall turn the rest of us out, mark my words!"
The hard thing with her mama was that it were as though everything had happened only the day before. Mrs. Bennet had not grieved, but remained in a constant state of newfound fears. However, they were not new, and had even lessened somewhat. Mrs. Bennet had turned into a more subdued version of herself, due to outward influences, but ever so often, her true self returned.
Elizabeth was tired of it. She already had to be strong in front of their neighbors and society, and then within her own home-with her mother, her younger sisters, and Mr. Collins. The only person who had an inkling of her true feelings was her dear Jane. And she had made Jane promise never to tell a soul.
"My dear, are you ready?" Mr. Collins asked anxiously from the bottom of the staircase.
Elizabeth held in a shudder, but just barely. If there ever was a man that could make her skin crawl, Elizabeth was sure none could do such a job as Mr. William Collins. She was only grateful, as terrible as it sounded, that his father was gone-dead for close to nine months now. Mr. Collins had found his father dead shortly before Christmas, in his bed. He had not been in her papa's study, when she had gone to meet him at their usual time in the morning before their morning meal. She had waited and waited, sitting ramrod straight in her chair across from the master of the house, her eyes fixed forward. Waiting for the elder Mr. Collins, whilst praying every morning and night that his cough would grow weaker and weaker, until one day, he just did not cough anymore.
He had been dead, died in his sleep, and Elizabeth was glad. As bad as Mr. Collins was, he was nothing to his father. In many respects, her torment had been abated with the death of the elder Mr. Collins, and that was not something Mr. Collins could take from her. Elizabeth could have felt a smidgen of sympathy for him. To be raised by such a man. However, any modicum of sympathy she had was gone once he opened his mouth, as always. And she would never forgive nor forget what he had said about Jane upon their first meeting.
Brushing a kiss on her sister Lydia's forehead, she promised her that she would tell her everything about the the gowns of their new neighbors, the Bingleys, who were said to be attending the assembly tonight. Going down the staircase, she took the proffered arm of Mr. Collins as he led her out of Longbourn to attend Meryton's local assembly. Glancing back, she returned her sister Kitty's smile with one of her own. She, Jane, Mr. Collins, Mama, and Mary were going to the assembly rooms in Meryton for the local ball.
Charlotte Lucas, her dear friend, had to see her and her sisters with the news.
"My dear Miss Bennet, your dear friend Miss Lucas is awaiting you in the parlour." Mr. Collins bowed over Elizabeth's hand, gesturing grandly to her friend Charlotte who was a mere ten feet away. To keep appearances, Elizabeth bobbed a short curtsy and went to her friend. Mr. Collins left, finally.
"Shall I pour the tea?" Charlotte asked archly, as her hands moved to do so already.
"Yes, thank you Charlotte." Elizabeth accepted the offered cup of tea, and sipped it slowly, ignoring the slightly bitter taste. The hot liquid settled the deep, sinking feeling she felt every time Mr. Collins was near. "So what news do you bring for us today?"
Charlotte offered her friend a knowing smile. "Well, as it happens," she started playfully, "I do have some news. I am surprised your mother has not heard of it yet." she chided gently.
Elizabeth smiled uneasily. Although Charlotte was much more aware of the turmoil that the Bennet family had gone through, were still going through, there were many, many things that Charlotte was unaware of, would not understand. Charlotte was so practical and unbending. Nothing ever took her by surprise, or startled her.
Elizabeth could see now, telling her friend all that had happened to them, in every excruciating detail, and Charlotte would point out the good that had come from something so horrifying as what had happened. And some good had come. Lydia and Kitty had been forced to grow up quickly, and had been forced to give up their adulation of the officers in their fine red coats. Mary had been pulled from her own world of practicing the pianoforte incessantly, and of her constant, and unnecessary moralising.
In the months that Elizabeth had been separated from her sisters, Jane had grown close and mothered the three of them in ways that their own mother could not. After the elder Mr. Collins died, and some terse discussions followed in Jane and Kitty's room, they had gotten their grievances out, and accepted Elizabeth as their sister-their true sister. It was no longer them against Elizabeth, as Lydia, Kitty, and Mary had felt even before the accident. They truly were sisters in every sense of the word.
All of that was due to the very man who thought he could destroy them.
"Well, you know Mama has no time for such things anymore, Charlotte. But tell me the news!" she said excitedly. Although much more reasoned and mature, Kitty and Lydia, and even Mary were still only young girls. Being inside the house, no longer being allowed to consort with the officers, no longer able to bang on the piano at all hours, was stifling for them. Diversion was needed.
Charlotte obliged her. "A Mr. Bingley has arrived from London, to lease the Netherfield estate. He visited my father some weeks ago, right before settling the lease. I believe he is returning for the next assembly, with some guests."
"Is he married?" Elizabeth enquired, smiling archly at her insinuation.
Charlotte returned her smile with a demure one of her own. "I believe not. My father was quite knowledgeable on that score." she replied, her smile turning more sedate and fixed as she ended her sentence. Lizzie reached for Charlotte's hand, a nondescript expression fixed firmly on her face. Charlotte allowed her to take it, but only briefly. Charlotte Lucas was not built to entertain any form of pity, especially not from others.
Elizabeth took another sip of tea, as Charlotte continued her exposition. "No matter what you may hear from Mrs. Long or the Goulding's, Lizzie, I promise you that Mr. Bingley is not arriving with any more than his two sisters, the husband of his elder sister, and a friend."
Charlotte swiftly added a spoonful of sugar to Elizabeth's tea, and stirred gently before continuing, " I am sure you will hear of it when they come to visit Mrs. Bennet. Maria had gone to visit Mrs. Long's youngest daughter, with Mother, shortly after my Father called on Mr. Bingley. According to Mrs. Long, and her daughter, Mr. Bingley shall be bringing a dozen ladies and seven gentlemen. I imagine that tidbit had made its way throughout every parlour in Meryton."
Elizabeth could do nothing but smile at her dear friend, who had continually done her best to bring some happiness into Elizabeth's life since everything had happened. Elizabeth made a mental note to speak to Mr. Collins about calling on Mr. Bingley before he went to Town, and was immediately glad that she did not have to go with him. Watching his interactions with their own neighbors was humiliating enough-especially when she was constantly faced with the knowledge that she would have to marry this man.
It was painted on the face of every person Elizabeth came into contact with. The Bennet girl, not the eldest one, that was going to marry a fool to save her family from starving in the hedgerows. A pity about the eldest, God bless the father, but wasn't it wonderful that such a man would fulfill his Christian duty?
Elizabeth felt her smile slip, and endeavored to think of happier things. "I shall have to tell Mama, Mrs. Goulding often visits Friday mornings, and I think Mama shall enjoy being proven correct when the assembly comes."
"Indeed she shall." Charlotte agreed.
Fitzwilliam could not say that he utterly despised and loathed any form of a dance, but his natural reticence did not help his mood, especially when one factored in the stares and whispers of the townspeople. The ladies covertly studied Charles and himself, their whispers interspersed with coquettish smiles and hushed giggles. Their mamas did little to dissuade them, however public they were behaving.
A pair of dark eyes met his, startling him from his cynical thoughts. Georgiana. His sister's wan eyes, and quiet, stilted manner invaded his mind. Fitzwilliam, just in time, stopped his lip from curling into a dark frown. The lady in question had already looked away, turning her head to her companion-who was quite easily the most beautiful woman in the room, although dressed sedately for her age and beauty.
He mentally shook his head, trying to forget those dark eyes, and focus on the matter at hand. This damned assembly. Although he cared not one whit on whether or not they liked or disliked him, it was for Charles that he was here. Let them say what they wished about him or his character; it was of little import to anyone but themselves.
He could feel their eyes following him, as he, Charles, Caroline, Louisa, and Hurst made their way to the squire, Sir William Lucas. Fitzwilliam inwardly sighed, wishing to get this farce over. The sooner he settled Charles, the sooner he could leave for Pemberley, and for his sister. His Georgiana. And forget those dark eyes, although it was quite possibly that her mama would be hauling her forward the moment their introductions were done.
Fitzwilliam heard his name, jerking him out of his thoughts. He smoothed his face into a somewhat pleasant expression, and sketched a short bow at Sir William. "I apologize sir, I was momentarily distracted."
The red faced, rotund man returned his bow with a large flourish, and then eagerly responded with "Of course, of course Mr. Darcy. I simply stated that-."
This time, both Mr. Darcy and Sir William's attention was diverted from one another, and their own party, by the added presence of a simply, almost clerically inspired garb of a young, heavyset man. Fitzwilliam studied the man, who was only slightly shorter than himself, as he spoke, his voice taking on an excitable quality-this man was clearly eager to be introduced to Fitzwilliam, and the rest of his party. Unfortunately, Sir William seemed to be used to such vulgar and ungentlemanly displays of manners, that he tolerated, nay encouraged it for several moments. This in turn led the unknown gentleman to expose himself to Fitzwilliam and his party.
Before Sir William could introduce the gentleman to Fitzwilliam or anyone else, the man had taken the task to himself. Bowing for a period of time that could only be construed as a token of his reverence for his family name, the man eagerly introduced himself.
"Mr. Darcy,"-the man bowed to Charles and Mr. Hurst, although it was nearly not so low as his own-"I am Mr. Collins, of Longbourn Manor." This was said with a half mixture of authority and uncertainty, as though he were afraid that Fitzwilliam nor Charles were aware of their new neighbor, and head of one of the most socially prominent families of Meryton.
"I believe I have already met your friend and host, Mr. Darcy. You, however, were in Town, I believe he said. Along with his dear, lovely sisters." This last remark was delivered to Caroline and Louisa with a magnanimous smile, whom Fitzwilliam was sure did not appreciate the sentiment delivered to them by the owner of a small estate in Meryton.
However, the name of the estate did sound familiar. The name of the owner, did not. Shortly before Fitzwilliam left London, he had received a very blotted letter from Charles, speaking of their neighbors, and his visit with the master. Fitzwilliam uncharacteristically had not been able to read much of the letter, so he was unaware of the story Charles had wished to tell, but he was now having an inkling of what Charles had been trying to tell him. Something told him it would not be the last of it.
Fitzwilliam watched in awe and shock, as Mr. Collins of Longbourn Manor, then gave a short bow and a half murmured apology and gave short, quick strides across the room to speak to a matronly woman. Caroline and Louisa gave inelegant snorts, and whispered among themselves, cuttingly. Mr. Hurst simply grumbled under his breath-Fitzwilliam knew he was simply biding his time until he was able to have his wine glass filled, again and again. As Fitzwilliam was in no mood to do so, Charles accepted the booming apologies of Sir William, graciously as always.
Skittering back to Charles and himself, Mr. Collins gave a few quiet heaves before saying, "My apologies, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley-" Beside Fitzwilliam, Caroline nudged her sister, and both gave Mr. Collins a deep curtsey, whose eyes widened in awe at the implication they were giving him. Bowing even lower to them, he turned to the matronly woman-who had now joined them with three other ladies, each of them somberly dressed. They were in the latter stages of mourning, he noted.
"If I might introduce you ladies and gentlemen to my fair cousins-" Fitzwilliam, who was now dreading the implication of any introduction to female relatives from a man as foolish as Mr. Collins was, was shocked to see the her. The woman from the assembled crowd who had looked away from him. Her eyes were a deep, rich brown, not blue as Georgiana's were, but they held a familiar peculiarity in them that was shared by both ladies.
Mr. Collins gave an oily smile in the direction of Caroline and Louisa, who returned their smiles with a knowing glint, and began the introductions. The matronly woman, who bore a passing resemblance to the fair haired beauty, was Mrs. Bennet. She gave a somewhat terse curtsey, which may have been explained by the introduction of the fair haired beauty-Miss Bennet. The Miss Bennet who used both of her hands on the top of her black and gold cane to give a short, yet startlingly graceful curtsey.
Fitzwilliam had glanced over to Charles, whose face was frozen in a charming smile as his eyes traveled down the length of Miss Jane Bennet's gown, to her cane. He would bet every pound he owned that Charles had been about to ask Miss Jane Bennet, the most beautiful woman in the room, to dance until he saw the disability that prevented her from that-as was his usual practice with the beautiful, sweet women that he fell in love with at every ball they attended previous.
Fitzwilliam felt pity flash through him as he, Mr. Hurst, and Charles bowed to her. He did not dare to look at Charles, and was loath to imagine the thoughts and expressions of Caroline and Louisa. And then it was on to the next introduction-the woman in the crowd.
"This is my fair cousin, Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Collins said with a flourish, an excitable nature to this voice came stronger and stronger with each and every word that left his lips. Miss Elizabeth gave the five of them a curtsey, her dark eyes shining with intelligence and mirth as she greeted Louisa and Caroline, "How do you find Meryton to your liking, Miss Bingley? Mrs. Hurst?" she asked, as she studied Louisa and Caroline, who were arrayed in the latest fashions London had to offer.
"I imagine it is somewhat more quiet and sedate than you both are used to? I felt quite the opposite the first time I visited London."
Mr. Collins had stepped forward then, a furrow worked deep into his brow, as he tried to decipher from the glittering smile that Caroline produced towards Miss Elizabeth was kindly meant or otherwise.
"I do not imagine that my dear cousin meant any offense, Miss Bingley." he stammered, his gaze going to and fro from Caroline, to Miss Elizabeth. Caroline smiled graciously at Mr. Collins, before answering sweetly, "We have not been in Meryton long, Miss Eliza, but my sister and I fully support our brother in leasing the loveliest estate in all of Meryton. We hope very dearly that he shall purchase it as soon as it is available."
Fitzwilliam watched in satisfaction as Miss Elizabeth recognized the intent of Caroline's rejoinder, dismissed it with a knowing smile, and another curtsey.
There was another sister-a Miss Mary Bennet-with the same dark brown hair and eyes as her sister Elizabeth. Although she was somewhat plainer than her elder sisters, she had the same pleasing figure and did not seem to inundate herself (nor her sisters) with the same unnecessary fripperies that Caroline and Louisa favored.
There was an awkward pause, as Mr. Collins simply waited to be acknowledged further, and it seemed that his cousins were following his lead-until Miss Elizabeth spoke to her cousin.
"Mr. Collins," she said, her voice smooth and modulated, "Perhaps we might go to the seating arrangements across the hall."
An apologetic edge creeped into her voice-"Jane's ankle is bothering her, and I am sure, Mr. Bingley has to introduce his guests to other families in Meryton."
Mr. Collins gasped loudly, before bowing even deeper than before-and turned to Charles, Mr. Hurst, and himself. "I truly must apologize my dear sirs. As my dear cousin reminds me, and indeed my own exalted father, were he still here, God willing, would have reminded me, we are gathered together in a social situation, and I am sure there are many other, worthy and admirable guests for you to meet. I hope we shall meet again, perhaps within the confines of my estate, Longbourn?"
Fitzwilliam turned to Charles in answer, as he was his host, and watched as Charles gave a surprised, yet fumbling answer in the positive, while Louisa, Caroline, and Mr. Hurst simply acted as voyeurs in the exchange between the masters. As the Bennet-Collins family eventually drifted away, more and more families began to come forward-pushing their daughters to the front of the pack to be introduced to Charles and himself.
Seeing this, Fitzwilliam immediately bowed out to Sir William, and began to take a turn about the room-watching as Charles was introduced to all sorts of manner of ladies. Most were pretty-although none had reached the beauty of Miss Jane Bennet-and had what he could only charitably describe as eager manners. Caroline would cautiously berate him later for abandoning her to the hordes of townspeople, but he found that he would not spare another moment's thought on it.
He could still hear them, Fitzwilliam thought as he crossed the room to pour himself a small cup of punch. The shocked and scandalized whispers of Charles' new neighbors, of his proud and arrogant behavior, the most abominable man in the room! No matter if he had ten thousand pounds or not! Fitzwilliam gave a short smile of grim satisfaction, as his cup reached his lips, and he took a small sip.