Elizabeth tossed her books, her three morning dresses, and her grandmother's necklace into the valise. Her stockings and stays followed. The hour was growing late, but she hoped for her familiarity with the land and her affinity for walking to work in her favor. She sniffed at the thought of leaving Longbourn, of leaving behind everyone and everything she had ever loved.
But what else was she to do?
Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I fear I must concur. I cannot condone the man, Lizzy, but it is too prudent of a match to ignore. You shall marry Collins before the months' end - and save us all from ruin. We shall have the banns read immediately.
Elizabeth swatted a few stray tears away. She had spent the first part of the day feeling angry and betrayed. Papa had sent Jane to comfort her, Mary to rebuke her, and even Kitty and Lydia to distract her. Nothing worked. By the time the family was preparing for dinner, Elizabeth had made up her mind.
She would go to Uncle Gardiner's. She would find employment. She would do what she must to avoid the degradation of marrying Mr. Collins. She was fully aware that making such a choice meant that she would no longer be able to consider herself a gentlewoman. She swallowed a bit at paying such a price for her freedom - but the alternative was too horrid to contemplate. Being an unmarried governess was a far better vocation than being the wife of Mr. Collins. Of that, she was convinced.
Sounds of her sisters' daily arguments over dinner attire escalated in the hallway, and Elizabeth knew her chance was coming. She longed to have a proper goodbye with Jane, but the eldest Bennet sister was too kind a soul to be successfully involved in any form of subterfuge. The whole family had to believe Elizabeth was taking to bed with a megrim. It was the only way she could slip away undetected before the sun was fully down.
The noises continued to grow in volume between Kitty and Lydia until Jane played the inevitable peacemaker, her comment of allowing Elizabeth to rest undisturbed tugging at Elizabeth's conscience. Then soon, all the sounds migrated to the dining room - and Elizabeth was free.
With one last prayer and huff of determination, Elizabeth pulled together her meager collection of worldly goods and slipped out the servant's entrance. The biting evening air hit her cheeks immediately. She tugged her hat lower and marched on. The coaching inn at Meryton would require her half the evening of walking to reach, and nightfall might slow her progress, but she was set in her course.
She knew her way to London, and she knew the coins in her reticule would take her there. She could only hope that Uncle and Aunt Gardiner were not away on one of their trips. She needed every shilling for the journey. She would have little else to protect her once there.
We can speak to the vicar tomorrow.
Mama's voice ricocheted in her mind. Tears pricked her eyes.
They might choose to speak to the vicar all they wanted. They would not have a willing bride involved.
Step by step by step, she stalked on. She knew she had to avoid the main road. Villagers would see her, and neighbors would gossip. It was better for everyone involved if the family could explain away Elizabeth's sudden disappearance as something planned in advance.
This back path to Meryton curved behind the Netherfield property, but since most of the Netherfield party did not like to spend time outdoors, she considered herself safe enough. If anything, the tall grass would cover her tracks.
A bitter laugh escaped her. Since when had she become a fugitive in her own beloved county? Her mind recalled the way Papa had declared his intentions that morning, insisting that she marry Collins against her will.
I understand that this is not what you expected of life, Lizzy, but we all must reckon with our own disappointments some time. Collins has a secure living and the future ownership of Longbourn. It is not wise to decline his suit.
She had protested, appealing to Papa's compassion and reason. Instead, he'd only said that disappointing Mr. Collins meant entering his poor graces - and the family could not afford to do so when their entire future hung in the balance.
If not for yourself. Do it for your sisters.
Elizabeth sniffed. Perhaps she was more selfish than she thought - for the idea of surrendering her life to Collins for her family's sake was beyond her means of self-sacrifice. Instead, she would work. And she would send every penny to support them all if she had to.
I shall sign the settlement papers tomorrow. I will hear no argument.
A few barks permeated the early evening air.
Elizabeth grit her teeth and marched on.
A/N: This is a story that I've been planning to write for a long time. So many people have done their brilliant takes on the trope since I first had the spark of this idea, but at least I'm finally getting around to trying my version! Elizabeth acts a lot more selfishly and almost childishly for most of this story, but I hope that I still manage to make her somewhat relatable despite her insistence on being one of the worst Elizabeths I've ever written (lol). Thanks for reading! No pressure to read if it's not your cup of tea :)