Author's Note: Well, here it is; the next chapter. I'm pretty sure you guys didn't expect for me to update so quickly. To be honest, neither did I. But, given the long unexpected hiatus this story suffered, I have decided to post updates just as soon as I have finished typing them. I cannot, however, promise that the next update will be as prompt. I will try to give you all regular updates. But for all I really know, some chapters might just take a couple of days to write, while others might very well take a couple of weeks...

In other news, I should probably tell you all that I went back and tweaked the prologue to chapter three a bit. It's nothing much, I was just feeling a tad puckish so I added a few zingers here and there. But, worry not, it does not affect any of the new content. Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I know quite a few of you were hoping that Colonel Fitzwilliam would have an active role in this chapter. I know I wanted him to, but Mr. Darcy just wouldn't let him. I hope your not too disappointed...

Mr. Collins' Easter

By Winterspell1812

Chapter 5

"Good God!" Colonel Fitzwilliam cried out, jumping from his seat. "Darcy? Miss. Elizabeth?" he queried, making his way across the room. "Are you well?"

Mr. Darcy, however, had very little attention to spare for the Colonel. His gaze locked with Miss. Elizabeth's, the gentleman was loss to all else but to the sight of her, the feel of her firmly pressed against him and the sensation of her panting breath upon his skin. Indeed, if it were not for the pained expression upon Elizabeth's features, nor for the tears clinging to her eyes, Darcy might have well forgotten the events which had led to their present circumstance.

Mr. Collins, however, could hardly have allowed him such.

Startled from his stupor at the sight of his unworthy cousin pressed so intimately against Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins swiftly remembered himself. Thus recalling what he owed to his patroness, to his elevated position as the parson of Hunsford parish, and to his future position as the master of Longbourn – Mr. Collins promptly fell to his knees before the illustrious gentlemen.

"My dear sirs," cried the fool, bowing his head so low that his balding crown was most prominently displayed for all to gaze upon. "Please forgive my misguided cousin!"

From their place upon the sitting room floor, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stilled, their eyes widening at this latest affront. Sharing an incredulous gaze, they turned as one to glare upon the wretched Mr. Collins.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, kneeling down beside the fallen pair, appeared no less insulted than they. "Forgive your cousin?" the soldier echoed, looking upon the parson with great incredulity.

Cheeks flushed in indignation, Elizabeth set about extricating herself from Mr. Darcy (for she positively refused to allow Mr. Collins to look down upon her sprawled form as he continued to abuse her). Prompting the gentleman to move off to the right, Elizabeth shifted to the left and out from under Mr. Darcy's imposing form.

"Yes, sir," cried Mr. Collins, his forehead firmly affixed to the sitting room floor. "Please forgive my ridiculous relation!"

Rising to her knees, Elizabeth made to stand (ignoring sharp twinge in her side as her tender ribs protested against such efforts). Faltering for a moment, the young gentlewoman would have likely fallen to the floor once more. But Mr. Darcy, having successfully regained his own feet, caught her. Thus, steadying her trembling form, the pair turned to face the obsequious parson once more.

"The foolish chit knows not what she is about!" Mr. Collins continued, heedless of the gentlemen's growing displeasure. "I am ashamed to say that my Cousin Bennet has failed most dreadfully in educating her."

Gasping at Mr. Collins' audacity, Miss. Elizabeth made to rebuke her cousin. "Mr. Collins –" she began.

But, as with all else, Mr. Collins ignored her. "Indeed," the parson exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his unworthy relation, "she is unfit for society, much less so for your own elevated company!"

Insulted in every possible way, Elizabeth glared at her hateful cousin.

"You little –" hissed Colonel Fitzwilliam, leaving off before he could utter words which would hardly be permissible in the presence of a young woman of gentle birth.

Mr. Darcy, feeling the offence against Miss. Elizabeth's character as keenly as if it had been perpetrated against his own, was not likewise afflicted. "Mr. Collins," that gentleman roared, startling the hapless fool into raising his head from its prostrate position upon the sitting room floor. "That is quite enough!" Mr. Darcy exclaimed, a most fearsome scowl marring his noble features.

Gazing upon the displeased countenance of that illustrious gentleman, Mr. Collins' gulped at the sight of Mr. Darcy's tangible rage. Overcome with fright, the parson was struck silent (his punitive reprimand against his contemptible cousin momentarily forgotten under the weight of that great gentleman's baleful gaze).

"In vain have I struggled," Mr. Darcy continued, his fierce temper having been provoked. "Struggled to retain my composure in the face of this…" he trailed off, momentarily at a loss for words.

Mr. Collins, regaining himself at the gentleman's hesitation (and remembering the cause of all of this unpleasantness), turned a malevolent eye upon Miss. Elizabeth. Thus, pointing an accusing finger at his detestable relation once more, the pompous parson snarled. "You," he began, intent upon resuming his abusive diatribe.

Mr. Collins' reprimand, however, was quickly curtailed.

Face purple with rage, Mr. Darcy made to stand before Miss. Elizabeth and turned his own accusing finger upon Mr. Collins. "Enough!" he cried, looking down at the man in disgust and contempt.

"It will not do," Mr. Darcy continued. "No longer shall I, in deference of Mrs. Collins sensibilities, withhold my tongue. My feelings will not be repressed. You are, without a doubt, the most ridiculous creature of my acquaintance. From the very beginning – nay, from the very first moment, I should say– of my acquaintance with you, your manners, indeed, your very person, impressed me with the fullest belief that you are the most pompous, obsequious fool to ever grace England! And worse still, you are a fool devoid of any sense of propriety! Seeking acquaintances where they have not been solicited, speaking when you should remain silent and thinking better of yourself than you ought! Still, such follies, however distasteful, might well have been overlooked. But, that you should now seek to disparage Miss. Elizabeth – Miss. Elizabeth, whose manners, respectability and breeding are beyond reproach – it is beyond the pale."

"But," the parson spluttered, "I do not–"

"Do not forget yourself sir," the gentleman hissed vehemently. "Though you may well claim the title of gentleman on account of your living, I have it on good authority that it is not a station you were born to, regardless of your status as heir of Miss. Elizabeth's family estate. To presume yourself above Miss. Elizabeth – whose family has held the estate of Longbourn for many generations, and who was born to the gentry – is the very height of folly," Mr. Darcy concluded, scowling.

"What is more," Colonel Fitzwilliam added darkly, feeling that there was another offence for which Mr. Collins should be held accountable for, "as the daughter of a Knight and of a gentleman – however recently Sir Lucas might well have acquired this status – Mrs. Collins, regardless of her roots in trade, is above you in consequence. And, therefore, has greater authority in the matter of running a gentleman's household than you. To suggest otherwise is utterly preposterous."

"I…" Mr. Collins stuttered, at a loss for words. In frantic desperation, the parson looked about the room in befuddled amazement. Dim-witted as always, the man could not comprehend how it was that he had garnered the displeasure of Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, when it was Cousin Elizabeth who had behaved most shamefully.

"Please sirs," Charlotte interjected, having recovered from the shock of her husband's most recent folly. "I beg of you, please allow cooler heads to prevail," she entreated, moving to stand beside her husband. "I am certain that, if you were to allow your tempers to calm, you should come to understand that this has all been some horrid misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Darcy hissed, gazing upon Mrs. Collins with great incredulity.

"Yes," the parson's wife desperately affirmed, "a misunderstanding. Surely you can see that, however misguided his actions have been, my husband had not meant any harm – much less so to cause injury to you or to dear Elizabeth! Did you not, my husband?"

From his position kneeling upon the floor, Mr. Collins spluttered once more, "I…"

"There, you see," Mrs. Collins quickly interjected, unwilling to allow the foolish man an opportunity to further exacerbate their precarious circumstances. "My husband did not mean to push Eliza from her seat, nor did he intend to send her sprawling to the sitting room floor."

At this, the parson spluttered in indignation. Before he could claim that Cousin Elizabeth had thrown herself from the settee (and thereby, aggravate Mr. Darcy all the more), however, Mrs. Collins pinched the back of his neck to force the foolish man to remain silent. "Certainly, you can see that this has all just been a horrid misunderstanding," she beseeched the gentleman, looking nervously about the room. "Surely, you must agree?"

Mr. Darcy scoffed.

"You do agree, do you not, Eliza?" Charlotte urged, looking upon her friend with imploring eyes.

Torn, Elizabeth bit her lip, regarding her oldest friend in indecision. Though greatly offended by Mr. Collins, that young gentlewoman remained cognisant of the fact that, if word of the morning's events were ever made public, she herself would suffer more than Mr. Collins ever would. For, regardless of the parson's reprehensible conduct, the end result remained that, through no fault of her own or Mr. Darcy's, she had been compromised. Thus, lest she wished to court ruin (for Elizabeth very much doubted that Mr. Darcy would ever so lower himself as to offer for her, or that Lady Catherine would ever allow such), she must do whatever she must to contain the scandal. This, most unfortunately, necessitated her to protect the wretched parson from the fruits of his latest folly.

Thus, sighing heavily, Elizabeth answered. "I agree this has all been a misunderstanding. And, as such, it would be best if were to disregard the matter altogether."

"Elizabeth," cried Mr. Darcy, aghast, "you cannot possibly believe so!"

"What I believe does not matter Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed, overwrought. "The truth of the matter remains that, if word of this morning's events was to ever reach beyond this sitting room – which it most certainly would if you gentlemen were to continue with your present course – then I, not Mr. Collins, would be ruined," turning to Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth met his frustrated gaze with steely determination. "You sir," said she, "may very well escape from such unscathed – but I would not. Thus, lest you should wish to find yourself in the most insupportable position to be honor bound to offer for me, the matter must be allowed to lie."

Grim faced, Mr. Darcy's steely gaze bore into Elizabeth's own for several long moments. Unwilling to submit, Elizabeth stared back, unmoved.

Sighing, Mr. Darcy capitulated to her demands. "Very well," said he. "It shall be as you wish."

"Cousin Elizabeth," Mr. Collins hissed; his portly features splotched purple and red in his indignation.

Elizabeth, having rightfully suspected that (once Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam departed) her hateful relation would once more turn his talons upon her, scowled. With her head held high, the young gentlewoman turned to face the despicable Mr. Collins, unwilling to betray any sign of weakness (a most difficult endeavor, as her side throbbed painfully in time with her every breath).

Mr. Collins, remembering the morning's events, was all the more disgusted by this vile display of conceit on the part of his deplorable relation. Seething, the parson recalled how the scheming chit had endeavoured to put herself forward in Mr. Darcy's esteem.

How, against all sense of propriety, she had seated herself so closely to Mr. Darcy.

How, when he rightfully sought to remove her from that illustrious gentleman's side, she would not give way.

But, most contemptible of all – how, after being made to give way, his vile cousin had seen fit to throw herself to the sitting room floor in a base stratagem to entrap dear Mr. Darcy!

And somehow, although Mr. Collins could not quite grasp how, Mr. Darcy became convinced that he was to blame for his cousin's indecorous display. The scene that had resulted had been most distressing. Indeed, if not for his beloved Charlotte, who had stoutly defended him, then the scene might have devolved further. The notion, of course, that Mr. Darcy would not have desisted in his reprimand if Miss. Elizabeth had not (however reluctantly) agreed with Mrs. Collins' estimation, never crossed the parson's mind. Determined as Mr. Collins was to place the blame for the whole distasteful event solely at Elizabeth's feet, the fool was stubbornly insensible to all else.

Nevertheless, in spite of Mrs. Collins' avowal (and Elizabeth's hesitant agreement), Mr. Darcy had refused to depart the parsonage without assurances that his contemptible cousin was well, and an oath that she would send for him if she required his aid. This, more galling than anything else, incensed the parson beyond measure.

"I have never been," Mr. Collins began, glaring at his reprehensible relation, "in all of my life, so utterly humiliated and disgusted as I have been this morning. You, Cousin Elizabeth, are a blight upon my name, your family – and, indeed, society at large. I can only thank the Good Lord that, on the day of my most imprudent proposal, in your undue vanity, you saw fit to reject the only offer of marriage you shall ever receive. In this, I believe that the Good Lord sought to protect me, and rightfully so."

"It has become apparent," he continued gravely, frowning deeply, "that through your impertinent flirtations and grasping schemes, you seek to reach far above yourself. Over the past fortnight, I have observed as you – beyond every measure of propriety – plied your meagre charms in the hopes of capturing Colonel Fitzwilliam's notice. And now, having discovered your efforts to be unsuccessful, you seek to sway Mr. Darcy from his rightful course!" the parson exclaimed. Pointing an accusing finger at Elizabeth, the despicable man advanced upon her, fury clearly writ upon his features.

She, however, would not be frightened by him and stood her ground.

Snarling at his cousin's continued defiance; Mr. Collins looked upon her with disgust. "But you shall not succeed," he avowed. "For, allow me be rightfully understood – after this morning's deplorable events – never shall Colonel Fitzwilliam offer for your hand. But, most importantly, never shall Mr. Darcy be swayed from Miss. De Bourgh's side," the parson said, punctuating his words with a wag of his finger and a threatening glower.

"In conclusion," the parson continued, visibly swelling under the weight of his own self-importance, "there is nought else to be said, but that you are to remove yourself to your room this very instance. And there, you are to stay for the remainder of your visit – which is to be considerably curtailed. Indeed, you are to depart from my home as soon as arrangements may be made, and I care not where you are to go, so long as you never return!"

Elizabeth gasped, scandalised at the notion that Mr. Collins felt he could justify suddenly evicting her, and no doubt causing irreparable harm to her reputation in the process. "You," she hissed, intending on rebuking the despicable man.

"Be silent, you hateful shrew!" the parson roared. "And be grateful for my generous spirit. There are many who would not offer such charity to one as low and vile as you! Indeed, if it were not Easter Sunday on the morrow, I would throw you from my home this very instant."

At this, Cousin Elizabeth had the temerity to appear insulted. But, seeing him unmoved by her baleful eye, the chit soon saw fit to turn her gaze upon Mrs. Collins, no doubt expecting succour.

In that moment, looking upon her oldest friend, Charlotte's thoughts could not help but to fall, as they oft did, upon the greatest disappointment of her life, and the bittersweet memory of a most beloved gentleman…

I know, this chapter did not at all unfold like you all expected. But, it did unfold exactly the way I planned it from the start. Although Mr. Darcy's speech was somewhat of a surprise. Truth is, when I got to that part, and the idea popped into my head, I just couldn't help myself. I hope you guys got a kick out of it all the same. I know I did...

And I should now probably warn you guys that, if such a golden opportunity were to ever present itself again, I'll be taking it!