A/N: I always thought it strange in Pride and Prejudice that Elizabeth, who came off as having some intelligence, didn't take the entail at all serious, especially knowing she was her Mother's least favorite daughter. Didn't it ever cross her mind that if she didn't marry she'd be forced into service? Was Elizabeth's tale Jane Austen's way of justifying her own refusal to marry without the deepest love? Was she always hopeful that someday her own Darcy would come or had she resigned herself to her fate? Just something to think about.

I've been under the weather the past few days. Hopefully I'll be able to post again this week. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9

There was a soreness between her legs when she awoke the next morning to the sound of Jenny stoking the fire. She glanced at the window and through the chinks in the curtain she could see dusty trails of sunlight filtering through. She felt like asking what time of the morning it was, but her mouth felt as if it were filled with wool. When Jenny was finished and left the room, Elizabeth slowly rose from bed, the images of the night before flickering through her mind.

She was a woman, now, she supposed. Or more appropriately, a wife. With her hand she pressed against her abdomen, wondering if it were possible that the events of last night would lead to a pregnancy. By this time next year would she have a baby? The thought made her smile, and suddenly she remembered the perks of being married, even if it were to a man such as Collins. She suddenly ached for a child and hoped soon to have one.

The morning meal was had in almost the same fashion as every other meal, except Collins seemed a bit more bashful and blushed every time he looked at his wife. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the affect she had on this man. She had heard other married women mention how they could make their husbands do things the way they wanted them done and now she understood. She would wager she could ask her husband for just about anything right now and he would give it to her, willingly.

"Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said as she finished eating, "I should like to meet the tenants today, if you have some free time."

"Yes," Collins wiped his mouth with his napkin, "I have the entire afternoon off. I shall collect you when I am ready."

As they were leaving the room Collins hesitantly approached Elizabeth and placed an awkward kiss on her cheek. She watched him enter his study and shut the door behind him. Since the rain had passed and it was relatively sunny outside, Elizabeth felt she would take advantage of the good weather and go for a walk. She donned her pelisse, bonnet and gloves, and for good measure wrapped a woolly scarf around her neck.

She walked on a path near the main road, having no wish to get lost. After she accustomed herself to the surrounding lanes and by ways she would explore her new world with pleasure, but for now she would stick to the well traveled road. It was quite muddy outside from the rain, but not enough to deter her. As she wandered around the countryside she admired the natural scenery and was eager to see it during Spring. The fields would be bursting with wild flowers, the trees full of leaves dappling the ground in shadow and light. It wold be a pleasure to lose oneself in such visions.

When she returned home she asked Jenny to bring up a cup of tea to her room while she prepared for her outing with her husband. By the time she was finished Collins was ready as well. They hopped into the pony cart and he led her, one by one, to their tenant houses. There were seven, in all, most of them belonging to young families, some with babes on the way. When she met these women she instinctively rubbed her own stomach. For the most part they were well taken care of, all of them in good health, their houses in good repair. One cottage settled deep in a grove of trees belonged to an older gentleman who had a young son about sixteen, and his wife, who was ill.

"Has the apothecary been to see her?" Elizabeth asked.

The man, Martin Cosgrove, shook his head, "'Tis but a cold. She'll be right as rain in no time."

"I shall send over some elderberry win," Elizabeth said.

"Perhaps you should confer with me," Mr. Collins said as they made their way back home, "before you gift things to the tenants."

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose, "Oh?"

"Yes," Mr. Collins continued, oblivious to her reaction, "first, I do not know if we carry elderberry wine at this time, and second if we could afford such things. I have noticed the use of more candles, but thought to indulge you on that score, but perhaps..."

"Mr. Collins," Elizabeth interrupted, "I took a full inventory of the household goods yesterday with Mrs. Shaw. We have five bottles of elderberry wine. I shall pour some into a flask and send that. I did notice the elderberry brambles against the far gate in the garden, I can always make more."

Eyes wide, Collins stared at her. She continued, "I have also taken over the household expenses, and with a little adjustment, along with the interest of my modest dowry, we can more than afford to give succor to those in need of succoring."

"Yes," Collins stuttered, unable to refute the quoted scripture. "I see you are indeed beyond the worth of rubies."

Mr. and Mrs. Collins fell into a pattern, regarding their lives together. Upon awakening, Collins would retire to his study where he would read and work on his sermon, while Elizabeth would walk, weather permitting. They would join each other to break their fast, then confer what they would be doing the rest of the day. Elizabeth encouraged him to work in the garden and visit his Parishioners who were sick in body or in soul. If he would be away from the house for a long period of time she would have cook make him a basket of food to take with him. Elizabeth herself would visit the tenants, getting better acquainted with them and helping them in any way she could. She had spent many a long afternoon with Mrs. Cosgrove, getting better acquainted with her. In the evening they would have their meal together, then retire to the drawing room where Collins would read to her for a time from a book or from his sermon, then lead her to her room where they would repeat the events of the previous night. Life for Elizabeth would have been, if not perfect, at least content; that is except for Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

The woman was everything Elizabeth pictured her to be, and more. When she arrived at the church on the first Sunday, Mr. Collins immediately left the family he was talking with and kowtowed to her, ushering her to their front pew. Elizabeth, watching this spectacle, was slightly amused. Lady Catherine was as tall as she, with dark, almost black, hair, and a shock of gray at her left temple. She looked as if she had once been a great beauty, but the years had not been overly kind to her. She wore a spectacularly fine dress, adorned with jewels, and looked as if she were greeting royalty, instead of attending Sunday Services.

Miss de Bourgh was an opposite of her Mother. She was shorter, thinner, her hair was a mousy brown, and her features pale. She would often cough into her lace handkerchief, and be given a drought of something to drink by her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson. She looked cross, and refused to speak to anyone, least of all Elizabeth.

"What a disagreeable girl," Elizabeth thought, as the sermon began.

Mr. Collins oratory skills were not much. He would often have to look at his notes, having got lost in thought, and constantly be casting his gaze over at Lady Catherine, who sat still throughout. When the sermon was over Mr. Collins hurriedly made his way to the aisle where he pushed aside the other parishioners in order for Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh, and Mrs. Jenkinson could pass unmolested. Elizabeth snorted at such a display, rose herself, and followed the others out of the church, introducing herself to those who happened to be nearby.

"My dear!" Mr. Collins called, "Lady Catherine has so graciously offered to drive us to the Parsonage. We must hurry!"

Mr. Collins grabbed Elizabeth by her arm and pulled her along as she called a hasty goodbye to someone she had just met. Lady Catherine had arrived in a barouche. She and her daughter were sitting forward facing and Collins helped Elizabeth up and followed after, making flowery introductions as they settled themselves.

"What about Mrs. Jenkinson?" Elizabeth asked, seeing no room left.

"She will ride with the driver," Lady Catherine waved her hand.

Indeed, Mrs. Jenkinson had already hoisted herself up onto the precarious perch of the driver, and soon they were on their way. Elizabeth had asked cook to prepare a light meal for their return, and to keep a full pot of water on the stove. The tea set had already been brought out and on display in the sitting room, and Elizabeth hated to admit it, but she was looking forward to serving Lady Catherine and her daughter tea. They were, after all, the first guests she would receive into her home.

Lady Catherine eyed Elizabeth, from head to toe, taking in her clothes and overall appearance. She asked her questions about her family, declaring her disapproval at all her sisters being out at once. Elizabeth disagreed, stating her opinion that younger sisters should not have to be deprived of entertainment because older sisters were not inclined to marry. Lady Catherine looked shocked at such a speech. She amended by saying perhaps fifteen was too young.

Mr. Collins took the reins of the conversation, steering it towards the sermon, which Lady Catherine approved, and recommended next weeks topic. Before Collins could declare what a wonderful idea it was, the barouche stopped outside their gate. Elizabeth was about to invite them in for tea, when Lady Catherine gave a parting word to them both, then commanded the driver to continue on to Rosings.

Elizabeth was crestfallen. She stared after the retreating barouche, wondering what had happened. Did not Collins say they were to call on them after services? Had she not prepared a nice meal for them all, with the best tea service on display?

"Come, my dear," Collins called from the door of the house.

"Did you not say they were to call today?" Elizabeth asked, following her husband inside and taking off her outerwear.

"Yes, but they usually do not enter the house," he replied so casually.

Elizabeth shook her head. She supposed she would never understand the very rich and their rude manners, declared she was too tired to eat, and made her way to her room where she lay on the bed, hoping Mr. Collins would not visit her tonight.