Gentle Reader,

What if Elizabeth Bennet married Mr. Collins after he fell ill during his visit at Longbourn and is subsequently widowed by him? How might Darcy react to her as a widow? And what does a small yellow dog have to do with any of this? Read on for more P&P variation. I'm trying to get better at this, so any feedback is welcome. What do you like? What do you hate? Thanks!

GS

Longbourn

Elizabeth Bennet lay in bed after the Netherfield ball and considered the surprising occurrences a few hours earlier when she heard the first sneeze. At first, she was not sure it was a sneeze at all. It was a loud and high-pitched sound, almost like a shriek. But when it came in multiple bursts, each identical, she decided it must be sneezing, coming from Mr. Collins's bedchamber.

She rolled her eyes. How apropos that Mr. Collins would have the most dramatic sneeze in all of England.

The Bennet family had returned from the Netherfield ball a few hours earlier, and its respective members undressed and found their way to their beds after having eaten, drank, gossiped, or danced too much. This included their odious cousin, Mr. Collins, who was visiting from Kent. What had been surprising, and disappointing, was Mr. Wickham had not attended, and Mr. Darcy had asked her to dance.

Then violent sneezes woke Elizabeth. She sat up in bed, looked at her sister Jane, still curled angelically in her bed before she lay back down. It was followed by another set of multiple achoos and vociferous moans. The second batch woke up more Bennet sisters.

"Lord, I cannot sleep with Mr. Collins making all that noise," Lydia said, opening her eldest sisters' bedchamber door. Kitty, her nightcap askew, stood behind her. "You must let us sleep in here for his room is right near ours. Have you ever heard a louder sneeze? He sounds like an old woman."

Elizabeth nodded and moved over so that one of her sisters could fit in the bed with her. Kitty slipped in next to Jane, waking her. "What is it?" she asked.

"Mr. Collins is sneezing his head off, and we can't sleep," Kitty said and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

Lydia cuddled up to Elizabeth's back, causing her to recoil at her cold feet. "Lydia, your feet are freezing!"

"I know. I'm trying to warm them but you will not hold still."

"Be quiet, everyone! I need sleep," Kitty said before lying down again.

Alas, the peace was not to hold.

After a few moments, Mr. Collin's sneezing started anew.

Lydia pulled her pillow over her head, bashing Elizabeth in the process.

She sighed. Now she was truly awake.

To say that Elizabeth Bennet was surprised at her younger sister's words the next day was an understatement. Indeed, for a full moment, perched on the loveseat next to her, she was without words.

"For goodness sake, Lydia," Elizabeth finally exclaimed, her usual equanimity unraveled. "Mr. Collins is not going to die anytime soon!"

Their sister Jane joined them with a fresh cup of tea. "What are you speaking of?"

Lydia pursed her lips with consternation. "I just wanted to know what would happen to Longbourn if Mr. Collins passed."

"Lydia! What a question!" Jane said, blue eyes wide.

The youngest sister rolled her eyes. "Don't be so missiah. You have not thought of it?" She eyed her father walk past the sitting room, book in hand. "Papa, do you know?" she called and he paused in the doorway, smiling faintly at his daughters.

"Know what, my dear?" Mr. Bennet leaned his shoulder against the door frame.

"Who inherits Longbourn if Mr. Collins dies?"

The older man's white eyebrows shot heavenward.

"Dear me!" His gaze touched all of them. "Do you have something planned?"

"Collins has been sneezing like a wet cat since the ball last night. It occurred to me if he did pass, who gets Longbourn then?"

Elizabeth saw that her father's amused smile remained in place.

"I believe in that case, there is a distant cousin in Shropshire."

"Oh," Lydia said dejectedly. "How very odd that we girls–your own daughters-are so very far down the line as to not matter."

Mr. Bennet gave a brief nod. "The idea is to keep the property in the hands of one male instead of being split. And, despite everything we've tried, you have all remained female your whole lives."

"Papa!" Lydia called out while Elizabeth and Jane smiled.

"My dear, if it were up to me, I'd pass it on to one of you forthwith, but that's not how it's planned."

"If it were up to you, you'd pass it to Lizzy."

"Only because she is least likely to lose it in a game of cards or to a penniless husband," Mr. Bennet's smile grew cheerful. "I daresay there is an obscure entailment that allows the widow to keep the property. So, Lydia, if you are planning an unfortunate demise, do be sure he marries one of your sisters first."

"Papa," Jane protested. "Surely this need not be spoken of."

"Jane is correct. This is in poor taste," Mr. Bennet said before he was interrupted by another series of sneezes from Mr. Collins' bedroom upstairs. They all stopped and listened.

"He sounds like a sick hyena," Lydia said.

Mr. Bennet gave Lizzy a final fond look before he ambled down the hall. For once, even Lizzy had to admit that Lydia was correct. Mr. Collins did not sound well at all.