A few days after the Netherfield Ball

"My dear I think we need to speak of your conduct at the Netherfield ball."

Elizabeth's head jerked up from the embroidery she was clumsily stitching. Embroidery had never been a strong point in her accomplishments, however she had brought it into her daily "meetings" with Mr. Collins in an attempt to dissuade Mr. Collins from any further contact. So far, it had worked. Of course, he had interrupted her stitching with mundane comments and prattle that she was forced to treat as the height of intelligent and interesting conversation, but it was not the worst that she had endured so far at the hands of a Collins.

"Did Mr. Bingley find anything innapropriate in my manner or conduct, Mr. Collins?" Elizabeth asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

She had kept her anger towards Mr. Darcy very well hidden, and the only person who had anything to do with her attitude was Miss Bingley. Elizabeth recalled that Miss Bingley had danced with Mr. Collins after the supper set, so she supposed that was when Miss Bingley had told him of their conversation.

Mr. Collins frowned at the inflection at her voice. His dear cousin was certainly becoming a nuisance. Such an attitude would not be tolerated after they were married, nor before even! He remembered that his benevolent, wise father had told him before he died, that he had to take the trouble to check the Bennets, especially his lovely betrothed, for if he did not, they would become an ill sort of manner of woman, and that would not do for a Collins.

"Mind your tone, Cousin Eliza. No, Mr. Bingley did not find any fault with your comportment during the ball, through God's mercy. If he had been near, when you had acted thus towards his sister!" Mr. Collins sighed dramatically.

"Thank the merciful God above, Miss Bingley did not deem it fit to trouble her brother with such troubling news, but instead went to me. What is this business that she speaks of? She speaks of you favoriting an officer at your Aunt Phillip's party. If this is true," his tone turned cold, in a manner that she had not thought him capable, although she supposed it was because she had not tried his manner, as she had his father's, "then we shall take steps to correct such a lapse in manners. As it is, I am very much disobliged to allow you or your sisters to attend those shameful parties if that is behavior that your aunt encourages in young people. I suppose she has no knowledge of how families behave in higher circles, being that her husband is a solicitor, but you, my dear cousin, know better."

"I have done nothing, Mr. Collins, that would shame my father's home." Elizabeth withheld the biting remark that she wished to say, but could not for fear of retaliation. "Miss Bingley was simply making inferences from information, I know not what."

Mr. Collins leaned back in his chair, and her mind immediately went to her dear Papa, of how he would indolently lean into the back of the high, padded master's chair, while reading one of his beloved novels, instead of attending to the figures on the ledger. Her eyes drifted upwards, to the ceiling, as she pictured, in her mind's eye, of her poor father lying unconscious in that awful bed, in the smallest room of the entire estate, and she fought the tears that pricked her eyes.

Elizabeth delicately coughed, reaching across the desk for the tea that lay proffered before her. "I met Mr. Wickham while my sisters and I walked to Meryton, before Aunt Phillip's card party. We had left the milliner's shop, and were on our way back home when we ran into Lieutenant Denny and Mr. Wickham. We spoke a few minutes, after we were introduced to him, by Lieutenant Denny."

Here she paused, wondering if she should mention Mr. Darcy, and his reaction to seeing Mr. Wickham. If she did mention it, as his name was going to come up again in a few moments, then it may send Mr. Collins into a shock and God knew what horribly embarrassing speech Mr. Collins should tell Mr. Darcy afterwards, when the opportunity presented itself, but if she did not, would he still find fault with her? In the end, she decided not to mention Mr. Darcy. It was enough.

"And then, as you know, we arrived at my aunt's gathering. I had gone to retrieve a cup of punch for myself, when Mr. Wickham addressed me."

"And what exactly did he say, dear cousin of mine?" Mr. Collins asked, leaning forward intently, his mouth hanging slightly open as he hung upon her every word. Elizabeth though, in a moment of churlish glee, that despite his anger, despite how he frightened her, he rather looked like a dog, drooling with its mouth open.

"He asked me how long had Mr. Darcy been a guest at Netherfield. He then told me that he had known Mr. Darcy his entire life, as his father had been a steward at Mr. Darcy's estate, when Mr. Darcy's father had been alive. In fact, he told me that Mr. Darcy's father had been his godfather, and that he had willed him a living on the Pemberley estate, but that Mr. Darcy had been jealous that his father loved him, and so he had denied him the living, or any other portion of his inheritance."

Mr. Collins leapt back in his chair, looking visibly frightened. Elizabeth furrowed her brows together-was Mr. Collins well? That he should care that much for a man he deemed beneath him would be surprising and entirely strange.

Mr. Collins put a hand over his heart. "Oh, excuse me my dear cousin, but I cannot imagine a man of his status joining the church! The horror! It was indeed correct of Mr. Darcy to deny him such a thing. His dear father must have had his wits addled when he wrote such a will, for I have heard it said from Sir William that his father died after an especially long illness."

"Of course, Mr. Collins." Was Elizabeth's only reply. She repressed the sigh of annoyance, she wished to make. Speaking to Mr. Collins about such matters was entirely useless.

"And that is the extent of your contact with such a man?" Mr. Collins sternly questioned Elizabeth once more.

"Yes, Mr. Collins. That is the only conversation I have ever had with that man. And I have taken the precaution of warning Kitty, Lydia, Mary, and Jane away from any prolonged conversation with him, as I did not feel he behaved entirely proper in telling me such a history on our first meeting!"

Mr. Collins stroked his chin, appearing to be thoughtful, "Indeed my fair cousin, indeed!

"Now, before you shall leave, my dear Miss Eliza, there is a matter of your manner not simply towards me, but also towards Miss Bingley, that needs to be corrected." he said, advancing upon her slowly, knowing that she would not attempt to leave her nor, even the room.

Mr. Collins tutted nonsensically, "I should have hoped that we should never have reached this point, my dear cousin, but I cannot allow such behavior to go unpun-", Mr. Collins speech, as well as his advance was interrupted as her mama's shrieks reached the din of the room.

"Oh my dear Lord, I shall go and see what confounds that woman right now!" Mr. Collins shrieked, his face abruptly turning puce in his frustration, as he left the room at an ungainly run.

Elizabeth stayed shrunk in the chair, aware of the fact that her mama's fortunately timed tantrum had saved her from the threat of escalating, physical violence.

For now.

Later that night, Elizabeth reached into the back of her closet, and gathered every single blanket she had spirited away from the open cabinets, and piled them underneath her coverlet, saving two for herself. When she had arranged them to her satisfaction, she undressed for bed, and spread her blanket upon the floor, and settled herself for the night.

And it was only then, that she allowed herself to cry, as she had so many other nights previously.

Papa was dead, and it was only a matter of time before she should be forced to marry Mr. Collins. It was Mama who had discovered him. Most days, Mama had not been able to look upon Papa, and Elizabeth did not blame her. In the beginning, she had, but she understood now the burden that Mama had been under. But now, now that she had missed the Netherfield ball, had not been able to push Mr. Bingley and Jane together, or, at the very least watch their interactions together, she had taken to sitting with Papa in the morning. Elizabeth was glad, simply because Mama had stopped shrieking about her nerves, "her poor Jane"..."her brave Lizzie".

Now Papa was dead, and Elizabeth would have to be brave for her family.

Withholding a hiccup, even from herself, she buried her face within her arms as she tried to go to sleep. To forget, even if it were just for the night.

Before Elizabeth fell asleep, her last thoughts were of gratitude that she should at least see her Aunt and Uncle Gardner and cousins again, as Jane had taken it upon herself to immediately write to their Uncle, and inform him of her father's death while Mr. Collins was preoccupied with the doctor and directing the servants.

Elizabeth fidgeted nervously, as she awaited her aunt and uncle. They had written, sent an immediate express back that their Uncle was going to finish the day's business, and then they would be leaving directly from their home in Gracechurch street to Longbourn, without any stops. Elizabeth was grateful for her aunt and uncle's attendance to such matters, for she was sure that when they arrived they should be in desperate need of a meal, a hot bath, and a bed, after traveling through the night. She hoped her cousins were not entirely exhausted.

Standing beside her, Mr. Collins walked the length of the room, always pausing to adjust the fit of his garments, taking out a handkerchief and refolding it, and running a nervous, sweaty hand through his hair. It was driving Elizabeth mad, as each time he walked the length of the room, he did so silently, and always past her by the nearest breadth. Her chest caught each time he did so, and she wished to have peace for a bit longer.

"Will you not sit down, Mr. Collins?"

Elizabeth looked over in shock to see that her youngest sister had addressed Mr. Collins. He had been in such an agitated state, ever since he had been told that her father was dead, that she did not know what to make of him. Whether or not it was a good indication of their future, or a negative one.

Kitty went to the window, as they heard horses come.

"Aunt and Uncle Gardner are here!" she said excitedly.

Mr. Collins all but ran from the room, and Elizabeth gently coaxed Kitty from the window, and into her seat next to Mary and Jane. Mrs. Bennet was in her room, having been given a sleep aid with a small glass of wine, and was now sleeping. Mr. Collins had wanted them to be displayed as proper ladies, and here she was, doing as she was bid.

Her Aunt Gardner came first, enveloping Elizabeth first into a tight hug, and doing the same to her siblings.

"Girls, how are you? Where is your mother?" Elizabeth's uncle asked as he tightly gripped Lydia.

"Mama is sleeping, uncle." Lydia replied, looking uneasy. "She was screaming and crying, so we gave her a glass of wine and helped her get ready for bed. Not even her smelling salts helped this time." she said.

"This time?" her uncle questioned.

Elizabeth shot her sister a look, causing Lydia to clasp her mouth shut, and Elizabeth answered for her. "Mama has had a hard time adjusting, uncle. Generally when she would get like that, we would give her a glass of port and her smelling salts, but this time we had to give her a sleep aid from the apothecary, as she refused to calm down."

Her uncle nodded sagely. "Yes, of course. I only wish we could have been here."

"Where are our cousins, uncle?"

He looked sheepishly to their aunt, and replied "We had left them at home. More space in the carriage for the journey back, and it was a rather tiring journey to begin with. It was better for them to stay at home with their nurse than to come to Longbourn at this time."

"Yes, uncle." Elizabeth replied, not knowing how to react. He had left behind her cousins because he intended to take her and her sisters and mama back home with him to Gracechurch street. With all her heart, she wished that she could go with, but she was caught between two wants: a want to unburden herself from Mr. Collins, and a want to not place any undue stress upon her uncle. He was not at fault for her papa's poor planning for his daughter's futures.

Mr. Collins swept into the room, gesturing for to follow him into the study, "As I do not believe that the subject of a funeral is an appropriate conversation in front of the ladies, and their delicate constitutions." he explained pompously, full to the brim of the knowledge that he was the superior of the room.

Her uncle left, but not before giving a significant look to his wife.

Elizabeth's Aunt Gardner settled into the settee closed to the tea, one that Elizabeth had left intentionally open.

"How is it that you are all doing, my dears?" she asked, pouring herself a cup of tea and sipping at it delicately. "I understand that it must be very hard for you, but also, in some ways a relief. I am here to comfort you girls in any way that I can, while we are here."

"Are you we going to come and stay with you, Aunt Gardner?" Lydia wished to know, leaning forward from her seat almost anxiously.

Her Aunt smiled gently at Lydia, her eyes cataloguing the difference in her speech, comportment, and style of dress, as well as Kitty and Mary's, as they all bore the same, marked changes.

"That is our purpose in coming here." Her eyes strayed to Jane, and then lingered on Elizabeth. "If the situation had been different-" she paused, not knowing how to explain the matter for her youngest niece's ears, although she was quite sure that they understood the situation better than anyone else could ever describe it.

"Aunt Gardner-" Elizabeth started.

"No, no my dear. We shall not hear a single word against it. Our minds are quite fixed. We have not received a letter from anyone in this household, excepting Mr. Collins for nigh on nine months. We should have come months ago, but we did not. And that shame shall stay with us."

Elizabeth occupied herself with her tea, unable to express the emotion she felt, without sobbing.

One week later…

The day they buried Mr. Bennet was a cold and dreary day. Elizabeth thought rather sardonically that it was just as well, for it was her father's favorite type of day. All the better for him to be indoors, away from the farm, and inside his library, occupied with his favorite book. Elizabeth stretched her dyed black gown over the length of her lap, studying the material as the parson droned on and on about her father's unfortunate passing.

The parson did not understand the turmoil that her family had gone through, after her father's accident, and what they would go through now that he was dead. Her father had been dead from the moment he had not woke up; he had left them all behind nearly a year ago. He had left them to pick up the pieces he left, and the reality of that was hitting Elizabeth harder and harder with each passing moment, now that he was truly gone.

Afterwards, when they had stood in the receiving line at the church, to thank the mourners, before proceeding to watch their father be buried, Elizabeth saw down the line that Mr. Bingley and his sister, Mrs. Hurst and her husband, and Mr. Darcy, even, had attended the service.

Mr. Bingley came forward first, his countenance heavy as he approached them. He went first to Elizabeth's mama, who had wept loudly throughout the service.

"My dear Mrs. Bennet, if there is anything I can do to comfort you, you shall name it." he stated in a quiet, uncharacteristically somber intonation to his speech. He moved down the line of Bennet sisters, stating the same in the same tone of speech, his expression betraying how serious he was. When he reached Jane, he gently reached out and briefly laid a warm palm on top of the cool hand that was gripping her cane.

Jane turned her head away, as she squeezed her eyes shut, and dried her tears with her other hand. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley." she said breathlessly, at last.

Mr. Bingley repeated the same to Elizabeth's shocked aunt and uncle, who had little idea that Mr. Bingley had been such a good friend to the Bennets, indeed even Elizabeth had only realized the significance of Mr. Bingley's actions until this day.

Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Mr. Hurst-the latter she had never seen less than a spans' away from the wine cask, nor without a glass in hand-offered their sympathies in short, formal tones, and moved away as quickly as possible. It was only Mr. Darcy now.

Elizabeth heard his low tones before she saw him, he being away from his party, and beside a rather tall gentleman.

"Miss Elizabeth." There he was, he had said her name once again, as always had, in the same, precise timbre.

She gave a curtesy.

"Mr. Darcy." she said. It was all she could say without her voice catching.

She felt as if she should look away, as his usual scrutiny of her was fixed as always, but returned his scrutiny for her own. She was still offended by his behavior at the Netherfield Ball.

"I most humbly apologize for your loss, Miss Elizabeth." he finally stated, after they had held each other's gaze for more than a few moments. "The loss of a father is a cruel deprivation, from which we shall never forget."

With that, he moved on, leaving Elizabeth to receive the others.

It appeared as though Mr. Collins had simply wished to wait until after the funeral to speak of the future. In that, Elizabeth supposed he was entirely proper. Propriety held no favor with her, as she had spent the next week sleeping next to her bed, although she was sure that Mr. Collins would not try anything while her aunt and uncle were here, and not after he had won-her papa was dead.

Elizabeth and her uncle had been summoned into the study of Longbourn's new master, and Elizabeth's uncle escorted her in, on the crook of his arm, Elizabeth had an unparalleled view of Mr. Collins' smug countenance.

"Now, Mr. Gardner, now that my dear cousin, Mr. Bennet has been called from this earth, and it has been an appropriate amount of time, I had thought we should discuss the matter of the wedding, before you leave for London."

Her uncle shifted beside her, and Elizabeth stared resolutely at the wall behind Mr. Collins' head.

"Am I to understand, Mr. Collins, that my niece was in a courtship with you, before her father's death, and that she accepted your proposal of marriage?" her uncle asked, his speech rigid and clipped. Elizabeth betrayed a glance to her uncle's face. What was he on about? He knew, simply from his meeting with Mr. Collins' father that there had been a courtship nor a proposal, but a presumption, based on the innate superiority that Mr. Collins felt within his own mind, as the eventual master of Longbourn.

Mr. Collins sputtered. "Well, no, of course not Mr. Gardner. That would have been highly improper, due to the fact the fact that I was, in effect, acting as my fair cousin's guardian."

"Indeed." her uncle echoed.

"I shall be blunt, Mr. Collins. Your father put us in a bind the last time we met, and we had been so shocked and overcome with my brother in law's condition, that we had not the strength, nor the will to refuse him. But today that weakness ends. My niece shall not be marrying you."

With her uncle's words, Elizabeth expected Mr. Collins to leap to his feet, the disgrace and indignancy he felt from her uncle's words to be shown clearly on his visage, which would be dark red, and that they should have to hear his blustered, but no less correct threats about their future.

Mr. Collins did not lose his temper for once, when faced with such information. Perhaps he felt, as he always did, that he held the upper hand, and Elizabeth would, eventually, come crawling back to him, as any other woman would in such a situation.

Perhaps he was right.

No, Mr. Collins leaned back in his chair, comfortably, casting his hands down the smooth, worn leather of the chair. "If we do not come to an accord this very moment, Mr. Gardner, on whether or not my fair cousin and I are to be married some three months thence, then I shall be forced to inform my fair cousins and Mrs. Bennet that they shall need to find lodging elsewhere tonight, and for the rest of their natural, God given lives."

There, he had played his trump card, and now he had only to wait and see if it had shaken Mr. Gardner enough, for if that happened, he should then have to immediately bear the added expenses of six more ladies to his household.

Therefore, Elizabeth was not surprised when her uncle stood up, and gave Mr. Collins the bare minimum of a bow, stating "We shall leave, immediately after the girls have packed their clothing, Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth faced Mr. Collins uneasily-surely he was not quite so angry and changeable, that he should set them out of the house with only the clothing on their back.

However, Mr. Collins simply waved them away, in the same manner as his father had dismissed him from earlier times, and before Elizabeth closed the door behind her, to the study, she was left with one last remark from Mr. Collins- "I would not keep me waiting long, my fair cousin."