Author's Note: Hello all! I hope the new year has been treating you well thus far. I'm glad to see so many of you enjoyed the previous chapter. I know some of you did not particularly care for my romp into the past. But, I couldn't help but feel it was necessary because so much of it is crucial to your understanding of Charlotte's character (as she is in my story) and of her motives. Yes, her hatred of the Bennets is fed by her experience with Mr. Cartwright. And yes, Charlotte's acceptance of Mr. Collins, though predicated upon securing her future, did have a hidden agenda (obtaining revenge against Mrs. Bennet). And, as you have likely already guessed, these motives (and the stories behind them) will continue to play a role in the way this story unfolds.

When I first began this story, I had never planned on examining Charlotte's motives with any great degree of detail (though I was aware of them and thought to make an honorable mention here and there). Some of your early reviews (describing your difficulties in accepting Charlotte's OOC behavior), however, convinced me that an approach with greater depth might well be necessary. I can only hope that the majority of you agree with me, lest the past two chapters have been written in vain.

Now, for the coming chapter, I hope you all enjoy it - I certainly enjoyed writing it. I believe that more than a few shall be happy with it, as we are returning once more to one of Elizabeth's rare PoVs.

As always, enjoy and review!

Mr. Collins' Easter

By Winterspell1812

Chapter 8

"It is for the best," Charlotte announced, her gaze meeting Elizabeth's with callous indifference. At this, Mr. Collins smiled, proudly looking upon his wife with newfound appreciation.

Across from them, Elizabeth gasped in disbelief at this most revolting betrayal. For several long moments, she stared at her oldest friend in silent amazement. Finally, the full weight of Charlotte's betrayal – of her audacity – dawned upon Elizabeth. That Mrs. Collins, within an hour of having begged for her assistance – of having depended upon her intervention to preserve her reputation – should, soon thereafter, deny Elizabeth the same curtesy…

Elizabeth could not help but laugh at Charlotte's impudence.

"You–" the parson snarled, offended by the young gentlewoman's daring.

Elizabeth, however, would not hear of it. She had withstood Mr. and Mrs. Collins abuse for much longer than she ought. And so, shaking her head at Charlotte, Elizabeth quit the sitting room, (ignoring Mr. Collins, who vexed by her unrepentant conduct, was abusing her character once more).

At this most recent display of impropriety on the part of the abominable Miss. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Mr. Collins purpled with rage once more. Huffing and puffing, the parson snarled, vowing retribution. Thus, retreating to his study, Mr. Collins set about his work. And, after several hours of grueling exertion, the parson sighed in satisfaction.

Allowing himself to sink into the comfortable embrace of his desk chair, William Collins looked upon the sheet of paper before him with great pleasure. Content that the lowly Miss. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn would soon be made to understand the value of her own consequence (or rather, the lack thereof), the parson eagerly awaited the morrow.

Then, the vile chit would not have the gall to look upon him, her bright eyes glaring with revulsion, as she held her head high and turned her back to him.

Following the distasteful scene, Elizabeth spent the remainder of the day in her room, whiling away the hours reading Radcliffe's The Romance of the Forest. As the day grew dim and no tray proved forthcoming, however, Elizabeth cautiously ventured out of the guestroom. Finding the cook puttering about with the remains of the evening meal, the young gentlewoman smiled.

"Good evening, Mrs. Potts," Elizabeth greeted, expecting to receive a smile from the kindly old woman.

This, however, was not to be the case. For, rather than greet her kind, the old woman scoffed.

"Mrs. Potts?" she enquired, bewildered by this unaccountable change in cook's temperament.

Scowling, the cook turned to Elizabeth. "What is it?" the woman enquired in a most insolent manner.

Though flustered by Mrs. Potts behavior, Elizabeth pressed on. "Would you please make up a tray for me?"

"I most certainly will not!" the cook answered, sneering. "The master has forbidden it. You are to go without supper, says he, on account of your indecent behavior towards Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam – and rightly so! Imagine that, some uppity little country miss, thinking better of herself than she ought. Believing she could capture the attentions of Colonel Fitzwilliam! And, failing that, seeking to compromise dear Mr. Darcy! The nerve of you, girl!"

With an offended gasp, Elizabeth glared at the old woman. "Mrs. Potts," she began, her anger getting the better of her, "I would remind you to mind your tongue. In spite of whatever fanciful lies Mr. Collins has seen fit to share with you, I am a gentleman's daughter and I will not be treated in such a disrespectful manner by a servant."

Snarling, the woman grabbed a hold of her rolling pin and made to strike her with it. Elizabeth, however, would not give way and raised her head defiantly. At this, Mrs. Potts, likely thinking better of attacking a gentleman's daughter (no matter how lowly that gentleman's daughter was in her esteem), lowered her weapon. "You get out of here," said she. "You shan't be getting a meal from me!"

Glaring, Elizabeth retreated from the kitchen, quickly making her way back to her room. Quietly closing the door behind her and securing the lock, she paced about the room in agitation. Until finally collapsing upon the bed, Elizabeth held back her tears as best she could, unwilling to give the Collinses and their household the satisfaction…

Awakening from a fitful sleep the following morning, Elizabeth did the utmost she could to ignore the painful thrumming of her side and the rumbling of her stomach. Pressing the palm of her hands to her eyes in a bid to ease the stinging of her tears, she sniffled unhappily for several long moments. Until finally taking a deep breath, Elizabeth succeeded in regaining control of her tenuous composure. Thus, shaking her head to clear herself of her sullen thoughts, Elizabeth set about assessing her present circumstances as best she could.

Though she had sent word to her uncle Gardiner two days prior, the young gentlewoman well knew that, given the Easter holiday, it was as of yet unlikely that the dear man had received her missive. And, if by some chance the letter had reached him by this time, he would be hard pressed to send a carriage for her 'til the morrow, if even then. Thus, Elizabeth was in all likelihood to remain at Hunsford Parsonage for the next two, if not three, days. What is more, given Mrs. Potts' reception of her the previous evening, the young gentlewoman was relatively certain that, in spite of curtesy and kindness, no meal would be offered to her throughout the remainder of her abysmal stay.

The only blessing which Elizabeth could yet perceive was that, as was her habit, she had squirreled away a few foodstuffs. Left over from her walk yesterday morning were a few almond biscuits, and a scone. Furthermore, Elizabeth still retained a few of the treats which she had purchased in the village a few days past, as well as a jar of raspberry jam, and two jars of peach preserves she had intended to gift to her mother. Although not an overly bountiful hoard, if rationed properly, it should be enough to see her through to Tuesday morn. Thankfully, she still retained the better part of her spending money. Though her father had offered her very little coin, if necessary the funds should be sufficient to purchase her a proper breakfast at the Hunsford Inn on Tuesday morn, as well as a ticket for the morning coach to London.

Satisfied in her findings, Elizabeth retrieved her meagre breakfast and set about preparing herself for the day.

"These base, immoral creatures would thus, for their own mercenary gains, seek to undermine the natural order which God, in all of his might and wisdom, had intended for them!" Mr. Collins exclaimed with great agitation. From his place upon the pulpit, the despicable parson looked down upon the assembled congregation with a baleful eye, all but threatening them into accepting his words as divine edict.

Seated alone in one of the back pews, Elizabeth glared at the hateful Mr. Collins.

Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the growing whispers within the congregation, the young gentlewoman watched as, once more, the ridiculous parson wagged his reproaching fingers in her general direction. Elizabeth did not doubt that, in spite of his severe mien, Mr. Collins felt well pleased with himself in this instance. For, through his despicable speech and unmistakable actions, the wretched man left all in attendance with very little doubt that she was the inspiration behind his most hateful sermon.

Mr. Darcy, for his own part, was no less agitated by Mr. Collins' sermon that fateful morning. His temper having yet recovered from the insult the loathsome parson had delivered upon Miss. Elizabeth the prior morning, the gentleman was now enraged to see the contemptuous fool had failed to take heed of his words. To watch as Mr. Collins, from his place upon the pulpit, all but gloated as he publicly derided Miss. Elizabeth was sickening. That he allowed no man, woman or child to doubt the subject of his vile sermon, made the offence all the worse. And, if not for the steadying hand of Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy would not have been capable of sitting through the disgusting speech. Indeed, with every fiber of his being, the gentleman wished for nothing more than to grab a hold of the despicable sycophant and throttle him!

Thus, as Mr. Collins went on to stoutly remind the congregation that to demean themselves before their betters was just, several of the attendees turned to look upon her with disgust and disrespect. Noticing their disdainful gazes, Elizabeth flushed red in anger; anger at the ridiculous Mr. Collins for propagating his deceitful lies, anger at Mrs. Collins for being a false friend and anger at the townspeople of Hunsford for believing the foolish parson's deceitful tripe.

Most of all, however, the person which Elizabeth Bennet was the most angered by was none other than her own self. Following the Rosing's dinner party, the young gentlewoman had at first dismissed Mr. Collins' contentious conduct towards her person. In her pride, Elizabeth had determined that such did not signify. That the parson's manner towards her (increasingly offensive as the days passed by), was naught else but further proof of her cousin's ridiculousness.

This, in retrospect, had been the height of folly.

For by the time Elizabeth had come to truly understand the precariousness of her situation, it was much too late. Good Friday was upon her and her ability to request her Uncle Gardiner's aid was severely hampered by the Easter holiday. Still, in conceited independence, Elizabeth had convinced herself that she would be well able to cope with Mr. and Mrs. Collins until aid inevitably arrived…

But then Mr. Collins had decided to usurp her seat upon the settee. And now, the despicable parson was doing his utmost to destroy her reputation – and, by the looks of the townspeople of Hunsford, succeeding!

Elizabeth felt very much the fool.

For she now knew well enough to suspect that, regardless of any claims made to Christian charity, Mr. Collins had little intention of allowing her to remain at the parsonage until her relatives could retrieve her. This, if it proved to be true, was a most contemptible act indeed. For Mr. Collins well knew that the coaches would not resume service until after the holiday, another two days hence, and her relatives could not possibly retrieve her before night fall. As such (if she could even convince the innkeeper to accept her business), Elizabeth would be left in an unfamiliar inn, with very little coin to support her and no one to protect her from the evils that might well befall a young gentlewoman in such a circumstance.

Vile, despicable, hateful man!

"And so," the wretched parson continued with his hateful sermon, "onto you I say, shun all those who would seek to defy the natural order! Cast them out, for they, in deference of their selfish purposes, would do the devil's bidding with their sinful acts!"

A lesser woman would have undoubtedly shattered at such mistreatment, breaking down into vaporous fits of tears and shrill wailing. However, Elizabeth's nature remained as it always had. And though she feared for her immediate future, her courage, as always, rose at every attempt to intimidate her. And so it was that, with a determination to not worry overmuch, but rather face each obstacle as it arose, Elizabeth found the strength to stand from her seat and step out of the pew. Making her way down the aisle, her eyes met Mrs. Collins' for the last time, remembering in that one moment all that they had shared in the past eight years. And as that woman stoically averted her gaze, offering Elizabeth the cut direct, the young gentlewoman mourned the friend that she had lost, and the woman that Mrs. Collins had become.

I have to admit, even I did not see that bit with Mrs. Potts' coming. I was writing it before I even really knew what I was about...