There are two common types of angels, the nurturing/supporting type and the avenging type. Charlotte Collins, having discharged her duty as the former prepared to perform the office of the latter. She very well remembered Lizzy dragging her around to all the visits in Meryton during her engagement period. Lizzy, once she overcame the shock of her engagement took it upon herself to enjoy the whole experience by pushing the mothers for more and more visits mercilessly. A few words suggesting that the lace on Charlotte's wedding gown might be insufficient for her needs, could subject her friend to hours of preparation, discussion and vexation; and hours of other miscellaneous effusions from the matrons of Meryton. Now, it was time for revenge.
"Lizzy, I'm sure your mother will be most thrilled with this auspicious engagement. I can hear her in my mind now; and she started doing a pitch-perfect impersonation of Mrs. Bennet, 'Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! I am so pleased-so happy. Such a charming man!-so handsome! so tall!-Oh, my dear Lizzy! pray apologise for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! One daughters very well married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.', at which point she made a great site, putting the back of her hand against her for head, and collapsed into the chair.
The bear, unfortunately, was drinking coffee at the time, which made him promptly snort it out his nose, which, all things considered, was not the optimal strategy. In truth, that method of disposal had very little to recommend it. The ladies of the house laughed uproariously until Charlotte silenced Lizzy with, "Yes, yes, Lizzy. You shall have to tell your mother immediately. Perhaps you would like my husband to write to your father, Since he is your nearest male relative here in Kent."
All merriment went out of the couple, who started at each other in mortification. They paused a moment, and then at the same time started babbling incoherently, words running over each other."
"I'll have to tell my mother."… "I'll have to tell Aunt Catherine."… "You'll have to ask my father permission!"… "I'll have to tell the colonel."… "I'll have to tell my Aunt Phillips."… "Who is she?"… "Mother's sister. Busybody. Gossip."… "I'll have to tell my uncle Thomas."… "Who's he?"… "Father's brother. Earl of Matlock. Busybody. Gossip."… "Mr. Collins."… "Aunt Isabelle."… "Aunt and Uncle Gardiner."…. "Who are they?"… "Mother's brother and wife… She's from Lambton you know! My favorite people in the world besides Jane!"… "Georgiana."… "Who's that?"… "My sister… favorite person in the world!"… "Lady Lucas"… "Lord Melbourn"… "My silly sisters"… "Never can remember which is which."… "The ones that chase all the officers"… "Still not specific enough"… "No matter, they must be told."… "Agreed"… "Mrs. Hill"… "Mrs. Reynolds"… "My sisters will want to be bridesmaids"… "My aunt will try to stop us"… "My father may die from the exertions… no wait, he'll just ignore us."… "Probably for the best"… "The Bingley sisters will probably die of dismay."… "Probably for the best."…
Charlotte was quite enjoying the look of absolute panic on the faces of the formerly happy and now quite spooked couple. Her revenge was nearly complete… nearly, but not quite.
"Eliza, your mother will be most thrilled to help you purchase your trousseau and plan the wedding."
She was delighted to see this start yet another round of panicked babbling, "Trousseau"… "Wedding breakfast"… "Church"… "Invitations"… "Making Calls"… "Visiting the gentry"… "Explaining to Charles and Jane"… "Breaking the news to Anne"… "Special License"… "New carriage"… "Modistes"… "Tailors"… "Haberdashers"… "Vintners"… "Parsons"… "Archbishop"… "Smelling salts"… "Aunt's advice"… "Eeeek! Mother's advice"… "Making more calls"… "Redecorating"… "Blacksmiths"… "Balls"… "Engagement feasts"… "Dancing"… "Sulking, you mean"… "I do not sulk"… "Do so"… "Do not…at least not that I have you to dance with"… "Wedding rings"… "Wedding coats"… "Bridesmaids dresses"… "Groomsmen's… well, actually they're too lazy to dress up."… "Unfair"… "Definitely"… "Indubitably"… "Covered that already"… "Right"… "Special Wedding Night Gown"…
That stopped the babbling momentarily, until the Bear said, "Let's revisit that one."… "Agreed", and they were off again.
It was actually quite diverting watching the two. They were both sitting side by side on the couch, in mirrored thinker positions, with his left and her right hand fisted under their respective chins. Their facial expressions were a wonder to see, as they want from joy to dismay, to outright panic. It was many years since Charlotte had been so were babbling faster and faster, sometimes talking over each other, sometimes answering a question long after the other had moved on.
This went on for a good five minutes, with each of the participants being most delightfully vexed until they both abruptly stopped talking at once, mid-sentence or even mid-word. They looked at each other, smiled, and shouted at exactly the same time, "SCOTLAND".
Turns out the damned Scotsmen were good for something after all.
Charlotte lost all traces of amusement, and said, "You cannot be serious! An elopement? Think of the scandal! This is impossible, unsupportable, unredeemable, and in every way terrible!"
However, it was too late. The die was cast. The cat was out of the bag. The damage had been done. The bell could not be un-rung. The bear and his consort were babbling again.
"No father"… "No Aunt Catherine"… "No Mrs. Bennet"… "No Colonel Fitzwilliam"… "We might need him for best man"… "Forgot that. Probably no time for Bingley"… "Bring him without Jane and you'll be marrying him"… "Good point"… "No Trousseau"… "No contracts"… "You will keep my mother from the hedgerows?"… "Of course, we'll find a hedgerow-free-county – far from Derbyshire"… "Very far"… "No wedding breakfast"… "No silly relatives in attendance"… "No Peers in attendance"… "I just said that"… "Good point"… "No nerves, no fluttering, no spasms"… "I already mentioned no Aunt Catherine"… " I meant my mother but really, they could just as well be sisters"… "Now that you mention it, do you think your mother would like to move to Kent?"… "We could be married by Friday!"… "Wednesday"… "Tuesday"… "Leave tomorrow"... "Leave Tonight"… "Leave Now!"
With that, they paused and Charlotte was happy to see sanity returned.
Darcy said, "three hours?"
"That will do nicely."
Now they had a plan, and commenced a flurry of negotiations.
"I'll take care of the carriage, the route and the best man."
Both looked intensely at Charlotte, and Lizzy gave her the best puppy dog look of entreaty.
"No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No! Lizzy Bennet! I am not going to Scotland with you. I would need a new living for my husband if I did that."
Darcy looked sheepish and said, "You probably will anyway, but fear not. I will take care of you."
"I will hold you to that Mr. Darcy, and I appreciate it, but nonetheless I cannot go to Scotland with you."
"I understand Mrs. Collins and applaud your good sense."
"But you plan to abandon good sense yourselves?"
Lizzy giggled just like Lydia and said, "Of course." She then looked at the ceiling for a few minutes, blew out a deep breath and said, "There's nothing for it. It will have to be Miss de Bourgh."
Charlotte was shocked at the audacity of the suggestion and said, "You can't be serious?"
Happy and excited again, Darcy said, "Yes! Capital! I'll bathe, change, get the carriage, best man, maid of honor, trunks, valet, maid, money, engagement ring and wedding ring and be back in three hours."
"And where will you obtain these rings you mentioned, sir?"
Darcy, looking either chagrined or like the cat who ate the canary, reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked suspiciously like a jewelry box.
"In the excitement I nearly forgot. This was my mother's. In my arrogance, I always assumed you would accept me and planned accordingly."
"I see. And you have the wedding ring as well?"
"I don't do half measures, Elizabeth."
He slid the ring on her finger, sank down on one knee and said, "Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the great honor of eloping to Scotland with me for a scandalous wedding, and a happy future as Mrs. Darcy."
Now it was her turn to have a look of heartfelt delight, and she replied, "Baby Bear, I happily accept. I must also point out that this was far and above the best of the eight."
Charlotte and Darcy both spoke at the same time, "Baby Bear?"… "Eight?"
Elizabeth laughed, "Yes Charlotte, last night I had my seventh proposal. This would be my eighth, although since I accepted the seventh I'm not sure this one should really count. It was certainly the best of the lot though. Do continue practicing, sir."
"And as for you, Mr. Baby Bear, you will have to give me a better name. I told you I cannot call you Fitzwilliam. Can I not use one of the names your other close family uses?"
"I hardly think 'Brother' or 'Cuz' will suit."… "I see your point. William maybe?"… "That will do for the moment."
Charlotte had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, and said "If you're going to elope, I imagine you'd better get on with it!"
Fitzwilliam jumped out of his stupor and said, "I'll depart for Rosings immediately, and be back in three hours."
Elizabeth said, "And I will write the letters."
"Which letters?"
"All of the letters."
"All of the letters?"
"Yes. All of the letters?"
"So you are saying, you don't mean most of the letters. You mean all of the letters? You realize who is included in that?"
"Yes sir, I do."
Fitzwilliam, so happy to be avoiding writing to his relatives, had to laugh, and said, "How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the day. Letters of elopement, too! How odious I should think them!"
With a laugh, Elizabeth said, "It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours."
That settled, the happy couple was ready to go about their business immediately. Most excitedly, Fitzwilliam jumped up, and rushed out of the parlor yelling, "My horse! My horse!"
Unfortunately, he was not quite as recovered from the brandy as he thought, and he ran headlong into the door, bounced off, fell flat on his back, jumped back up, opened the door, and ran out still screaming for his horse.
Charlotte looked on in some amusement, and was surprised when but a moment later he rushed back into the door, ran over and gave Elizabeth a substantial kiss. This was nowhere nearly as shocking as when Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley also gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek; before rushing headlong out the door once again.
Elizabeth almost skipped over to the writing desk. There was much to be done, so with a happy heart, she gathered paper and ink; and set about the task of mending her pen.