AN: I don'tadd notes every time, but I'm always so thankful for your reviews ! They really keep me motivated to keep writing :) I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Chapter 11

I spend a good half hour in the garden, trying to calm down, before Kitty finally finds me.

"Oh, Mary, there you are! We were getting worried. Mr Collins is looking – what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Kitty, I just needed some time to myself. I'll get back to the ball, I wouldn't want Mama to get involved."

"It's fine – I was the first one to think of the garden. We can say you fell asleep or something. But, truly, are you well?"

"A bit sad, Kitty, and a bit emotional, but nothing very wrong, not to worry."

Kitty hugs me fiercely. "Good. I wouldn't want my favourite older sister feeling down while she is so pretty. Come, we must have you dance every dance from now on! Then you'll get to escape Mr Collins."

I'm touched that she called me her favourite elder sister, and I feel the floodgates reopen. I focus on suppressing the tears, and hug Kitty back. I really appreciate that she isn't talking about Mr Gregory, because then I would really be crying.

"Thank you, Kitty. I like your plan. Once more unto the breach!"

Kitty's a champion – for the rest of the evening, I am swamped with dance offers from the officers. I entertain myself by trying to get to know them, and some of them I even have a good time with. I try to spot Mr Darcy in the crowd, but he seems to have disappeared. Oh, well. I'll return his handkerchief some other time.

Mr Gregory never even tries to dance with me. Did I just invent something and think about it so much that I lost all reason? Am I right to be so disappointed?

By the time it's the end of the evening, I am ready to fall asleep on my feet. How do Kitty and Lydia have enough energy to dance the night away at every assembly? I guess I understand their morning lie ins better, now.

I'm not exhausted enough to not notice Jane and Bingley, and Lizzie and Mr Gregory, both couples in their little bubble, away from the rest of us. I'm too spent – I don't have the energy to deal with this right now, especially with Collins' babbling next to me.

The next morning, I wake with a distinctly woolly feel. I cried myself to sleep, and frankly, it was cathartic. The Netherfield ball was an emotional overload and a half. I don't want to think about it.

I don't know if the whole Bingley party will disappear as they did in Pride and Prejudice. Things have changed so much already, I'm not counting on my knowledge of the future any more.

When I arrive at breakfast, I soon realize that I had forgotten one important event before the Bingley & co departure: Mr Collins' proposal.

Mrs Bennet has a strange glint in her eye, and Mr Collins is practically thrumming with anticipation. I won't enjoy this.

Everyone evacuates the breakfast parlour speedily, and Mr Collins launches into his speech. I don't have the patience to be polite; I munch on my scone while he speaks.

"Miss Mary, you can have no doubt as to why I am addressing you today. I have hope that you will be amenable – you have shown me some preference, I believe. I have to say – I did not expect to feel so much after such a short acquaintance, but I believe I have never had such a relationship with a young lady, and so, without further ado, I humbly kneel before you, and ask if you would consent to be my wife."

Oh dear, I really wasn't ready for this. I set my scone down. I feel sorry for Mr Collins – has nobody, ever, been polite to him? I thought I was being harsh at times, but apparently, I was showing preference? I suppose that my other sisters – excepting Jane – did shut him off often, and simply ignored him after a few days.

"As I have already told you, I believe you will enjoy Hunsford. My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would approve of you, indeed she recommended I search among my cousins for a future wife. You are clearly competent at running a household, and your solicitude to your tenants does you credit – you would be an excellent parson's wife."

Oh dear. I must interrupt him, I think.

"Mr Collins! I am sorry, but I must answer. Forgive me for having given you the impression that I was partial to you, but unfortunately, I have resolved not to marry – anyone, ever. My mother knows of this, and I hope she did not point me in your direction."

"No indeed! She merely mentioned that your elder sisters were likely to receive proposals soon. Your younger sisters… I do not think we would suit. Besides, it was evident almost instantly that we were practically made for each other!"

How has he come to this conclusion? Even Mr Darcy, of all people, saw how I disliked Collins.

"Mr Collins, I am afraid my answer is final. I apologize for the hurt it may cause you, but I do not wish to marry you."

His face falls. I really pity him – he's taking it hard.

"I understand. You are an earnest young woman, and you do not trifle with other people's feelings. I am very saddened by your refusal, but I respect it. I hope we can remain friends in the future."

My regard for Collins rises exponentially. Rejection is never easy, and he took it pretty well, I think.

"Thank you, Mr Collins. I would like that. I shall take my leave."

I need a walk.

I'm away for two hours. In that time, Mr Collins decides that it would not be proper to stay in the house any longer, and so he hastens his plans to leave. His departure is strange – he blushes when he looks at me, and avoids looking directly at me, but sits in a seat facing us in his carriage, and I can feel his stare as it rides away.

Mrs Bennet reprimands me fiercely over dinner, complaining that I betrayed the family. I thought that the whole affair was over. Apparently not. My sisters are silent, and Mr Bennet is busy with a book, so I'm not even sure he's listening.

The cherry on the cake is when Mrs Bennet says she gave Mr Collins leave to write to me.

"Mama, that is hardly proper," I chide.

"Mary, the poor man loves you. Perhaps you will find some tenderness in your heart when you read his letters. I do not understand you, girl. You could have been the mistress of this house! Have you no care for your family?"

It's rude, but I leave the table. I was clear with Mrs Bennet from the start! She's ignoring my wishes, and I hate it. And why did she tell Collins that Lizzie had a good prospect in store? Have I been blind from the start to some sort of romance between Lizzie and Mr Gregory?

The next morning, we get a visit from Mr Bingley and Mr Gregory.

Mrs Bennet is in full matchmaking mode, and has managed to get rid of Kitty and Lydia. I won't bend to her suggestion to leave together, and instead suggest a walk with the whole party. She likes this idea – it prolongs the time we can stay with the gentlemen.

"You'll stay for dinner, after your walk, won't you?" She asks eagerly. Gregory and Bingley exchange glances, then accept.

By the time I'm properly dressed to be out, Lizzie and Mr Gregory have already set off. I'm left trailing behind Jane and an enthusiastic Bingley – the path does not fit three people.

I spend an annoying hour trailing behind the happy couple. Bingley and Jane are disgustingly in love, and in the full honeymoon phase. Oh, you like flowers? No way, I like flowers! Cue long stares into each other's eyes. Oh, let me help you over this non existent puddle. Oh, thank you, my knight in shining armour.

I might be exaggerating, but only just a bit.

I get sick of it and wander away. We've lost Lizzie and Mr Gregory for a while now – they were walking much faster.

I've been thinking quite a bit about what Mr Darcy told me. He's right, I am a bit of a hypocrite for telling him off for being unsociable. From now on, I resolve to be kinder and more interested in my neighbour's life. I've never been a social butterfly, but social interactions are more important now than they were in the 21st century. Even Sir William's comment at Netherfield shows it; he considers me a wallflower. The regiment's arrival in Meryton is a good thing, I think – I can practice my social skills with them. I can afford to ruffle a few feathers there – they'll leave before summer, after all.

I'm quite happy with my resolution, and am about to turn to head home, when I spot Mr Gregory through some bushes. He's – kneeling? Wait, what?

I stand there, stunned, unseen, as I see Lizzie enter the picture and kiss him, full on the lips. It's chaste, no French kissing, or anything, but I'm shocked.

I stay frozen as they hold hands and head in the direction of Longbourne.

I can't believe what I have just seen. Lizzie and Mr Gregory, romantically engaged? Could it be? That's pretty fast, even for Regency standards. I mean, what's the hurry?

A part of me is worried about will happen about Lizzie and Mr Darcy (aren't they supposed to be soulmates or something?), another is offended that my own interactions with Mr Gregory, which I had thought were special, weren't so special for him, apparently. I'm mostly concerned that they got engaged so fast. I mean, they hardly know each other!

Mrs Bennet will definitely be on board, but I find the whole business a bit fishy. And I'd like to think my opinion is quite unbiased on the matter.

I head home, hoping to arrive before the couple.

It turns out I arrive just after them. They have asked to see Mr Bennet, and Mrs Bennet is eagerly awaiting what will happen after that interview. In the meantime, she hands me a letter, from Mr Collins.

My dear cousin,

I have arrived home. The cottage feels a bit empty after a fortnight in your family's house. I have spent the whole trip thinking about you. You seemed sincere in your refusal, but your mother assures me it is usual for young women to increase affection with suspense, and to refuse a first offer while secretly expecting a second. Is that the case? I am unused to delicate females such as yourself. Your mother was confident you would respond positively to a second proposal, in time. Meanwhile, I humbly suggest we set up some correspondence to get to know each other better. Perhaps your opinion of me will change for the better? I will write you once a week, every Sunday.

Yours,

William Collins

I can't deal with this right now. The whole 'increasing affection with suspense' narrative came from Mrs Bennet? This is too much.

Lizzie and Mr Gregory arrive in the parlour, accompanied by Mr Bennet. Lizzie is beaming.

"I am very pleased to announce that Miss Elisabeth and I are engaged to be married," Mr Gregory declares proudly.

I was expecting it, so thankfully I don't react badly. I plaster a fake smile on my face and congratulate them. My voice sounds a bit tinny, and Lizzie catches on straight away.

"Mary, are you – oh. I see you received Mr Collins' letter."

Mr Gregory looks at me curiously, as if to ask what the letter clutched in my hand means. The letter burns in my hand; it feels damning. He could interpret my correspondence with Collins to mean that we are engaged. Which Collins and I aren't. Is Mrs Bennet doing this on purpose? She could ruin my reputation! Thankfully, correspondence between cousins of different sex is a grey area in the social norm.

"It is nothing, Lizzie. Our cousin says he is home, and hopes we are all well. But never mind him, I'm so happy for you both! Do you have any idea when the ceremony would take place?"

"Mr Gregory is in a bit of a hurry actually – he must be back to his school at the new year. His mentor's health took a turn for the worse, and Mr Gregory only just received the news about it yesterday. He does not mind, since he had finished his experiments at Netherfield, but it does speed up our engagement. I think we shall be married in three weeks."

"Oh, that is short indeed! Mama will have a fit," I commiserate.

"I'm not too disappointed," Lizzie confesses. "At least this way the ceremony and wedding breakfast won't be too lavish. You know how I prefer a plain dish to a ragout."

I smile at her, but she is distracted by Mrs Bennet, whose effusions of pleasure are naturally over the top.

Jane and Bingley's arrival prompts another flurry of congratulations, and I slip away quietly. I need time to digest this.