Author's Note: I've posted two chapters today. Chapter 24 is a partial chapter that likely needs to be fleshed out a little more, but will do for now. I was getting bogged down on it and wanted to keep the story moving. I'm not sure if it'll make the final cut when I finish the story or not, but the intent is to give a little more insight into the Collins'.

Also, I made a comment at the end of chapter 23 about working toward redemption and I wanted to clarify that. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are beyond redemption. They will receive their 'just desserts' eventually in the story and Mrs. Bennet is far too gone. As far as why she doesn't like Elizabeth, who really knows, but in my mind (in this story at least), she has something along the lines of a narcissistic personality that allows her to revise history to suit whatever story works best for her. She doesn't like Elizabeth because she doesn't fit the mold of what she wanted as a child, and with her gone, it allowed her to blame Elizabeth for everything that may have gone wrong in her life and marriage since. People like that are incapable of reason, and they create events in their mind that are "their own truth" and nothing you say, no proof you can offer, will change them from their course.

The sisters have all lived with her for their entire lives. They lived with an indifferent father and a mother who thought only of herself. So they have some really bad habits, but even Jane isn't completely beyond redemption. However, it will take something fairly significant to change that mindset ... :)

Chapter 25

The Darcys remained ensconced in their little cottage for a sennight before returning to London. During their remaining time in Hertfordshire, they only had one or two visitors, and attended none of the social events to which they had been invited. On the day they were in Meryton, they had taken their leave of those they had come to see. While they were in Meryton, several people had brought up the estrangement between Elizabeth and her family, but other than the Phillipses and Charlotte Lucas, no one in that town truly knew the cause of the disagreement, or why Elizabeth had been called home.

Of course, that did not prevent the rumours that abounded in the small town, and many were right in their suppositions about what had brought Elizabeth back to Meryton after so many years. Knowing what they did about Mrs. Bennet, many thought the Bennet matriarch may have intended to marry Elizabeth to someone to secure her future, and learning that the daughter she had cast aside was already wed left Mrs. Bennet out of sorts.

The Darcy's arrival at their London home was, miraculously, unheralded. They slipped in from the mews, retired directly to their chambers, and remained there for several days before they were discovered.

They spent that time in blissful solitude, speaking and laughing about many things, including some of their first impressions of the other. They had rarely spoken of the first day they met, and Elizabeth had never asked what happened to the gentleman who had attempted to assault her, though she was pleased that she had never encountered him again.

"He still did not survive to receive the punishment he deserved, and he still begged my father for his assistance. Naturally, my father declined to assist him, since he had been told what would happen if he continued as he had. I think my father felt some guilt for allowing him to act in such a way, since his reluctance to check his behaviour likely permitted it to grow worse. He paid for his burial after George died from his injuries."

Elizabeth was torn upon hearing this, for while she quite detested the man, she thought it sad for him to have come to such an end and said as much to her husband. However, that gentleman turned the conversation back to their first impressions.

"I was impressed that, despite your youth, you stood up to him, me, and my father without fear," Darcy told upon hearing what she said and about how frightened she had been.

Elizabeth laughed. "I was so afraid I would have thought everyone could hear my knees knocking together when I stood in front of your father. Women are rarely believed and given much consideration when attacked as I was. Though I was not yet out, if what happened to me had become known, I could have been ruined. I could have been ruined in truth had you not come along when you did. I was angry, but I would not have been able to hold him off much longer." Her face fell as she remembered the terror she had felt on that day.

"I collapsed in my aunt's arms not long after you departed from the inn that afternoon," she confessed quietly.

Such a confession caused the new husband to draw his wife into his arms tenderly. "I think fate smiled down on me that day. While I wish you had never had to experience such an awful ordeal, it accomplished two significant things. It finally convinced my father that his godson was as awful as I claimed, but most fortuitously, it introduced me to you. Were it not for your friendship, I would have struggled far more following my father's death. Your letters to Georgiana, along with the lines written just to me, regularly lifted my spirits when I became melancholy."

She leaned back and smiled, caressing his cheek with her hand. "You have said that before, but I can scarcely credit it. Most of what I sent was meant to provoke, as I was certain you did not care for me. We seemed to always argue when we spoke at Pemberley that second summer."

"I was delighted by our debates. I was so impressed with your knowledge and understanding, and your compassion in helping my sister and Mrs. Reynolds with Pemberley's tenants. You know, they still speak of you with something like reverence, and I have received word from my steward that they are delighted that you are now their mistress."

"But I did so little," she protested.

"You were empathetic and kind. Pemberley had not had a mistress in several years at that point and they appreciated the effort you took to know them. Mrs. Reynolds did visit as she could, but she was unable to do much. I know that you did not know much about the role of a mistress of an estate at that time, but you were approachable and merry."

Elizabeth laughed again. "I still do not know much about the role of mistress. Despite being born a gentleman's daughter, I have lived most of my life in the house of a tradesman. I do not recall anyone at Longbourn visiting tenants or doing half of what Mrs. Reynolds does, and I know I am far from prepared to be the mistress of such a grand estate as Pemberley."

Darcy kissed her forehead. "You will be exceptional, my love. I have complete faith in your abilities to do what is required. What you do not know, you will learn quickly enough. You have proven time and again that you are a fast learner."

In response, she kissed him and relaxed into his embrace. They remained this way for several minutes before an idea struck Elizabeth, and she sat up slightly. "What made you finally decide to court me? We had not seen each other in years when I attended the ball at the Matlocks, and it was only a few days later that you asked to court me."

He smiled broadly. "Do you not know, my love?" At the shake of her head, he laughed lightly and pulled her back into him. "I had not seen you in a year or more and only knew of you from your letters to my sister. We had a cheerful battle of wits in those letters and I enjoyed the novelty, but in my mind, you were a young girl still. That night at my aunt's, well, my darling girl, I was … stunned. You were so incredibly lovely, and I was instantly attracted to you. When I realised that you were the Elizabeth Gardiner I had traded barbs with all that time, I was taken aback. Do you not remember how I struggled to form the words to ask you to dance?"

Elizabeth looked at him fondly. "I thought you were annoyed to be forced to dance with me that night. I think we have spoken of this before, but I had admired my 'rescuer' for years. When you fumbled to form the words to ask me to dance, I thought it was because you did not want to."

"No, Elizabeth, I fumbled when asking you to dance because I was shocked. I remembered the impertinent little fourteen-year-old you had been and did not expect you to be the beautiful woman who stood before me. You have only grown more beautiful," he claimed before capturing her lips and kissing her until they were both breathless.

Soon after their return, Elizabeth received two letters from Hertfordshire. From Mary's letter, she learned how Mrs. Bennet had taken to her bed shortly after Elizabeth departed Longbourn, crying and complaining about her nerves and how "that foolish girl" had ruined all her plans for their futures. Mrs. Bennet spent much of the next days bemoaning the lack of a son for Longbourn, and how without Elizabeth there to marry the heir, all the girls were destined for the hedgerows.

Though I hate to say it of my own relation, I struggle to understand Mama. She and Papa could have provided for our future by restricting their spending. Regardless, she is quite upset by your appearing at Longbourn already married, and, I admit, her frustration is exacerbated by learning how well you have married. You should hear the rumours that have circulated since you left. I hate to say it, Elizabeth, but she is vexed that you are married and Jane is not, and she blames her brother, Papa, and everyone she can name for it.

Not only that, but apparently she has decided that I am now the sister to marry Mr. Collins. I am anxious at the thought of it; the man is not only much older than I, but I am in now way prepared for marriage.

Since you departed, I have begun spending less time at home and more time with Charlotte Lucas and Mrs. Allen, the rector's wife. In my conversations with her, I have learned that Longbourn's tenants are among the poorest in our parish, for Mama does not act as she should and does not do anything to aid them. Not only that, but Papa has raised the rents on our tenants to make up for the loss of income in other aspects. The estate is failing and Papa will do nothing to help. I am concerned that some day all Mama's cries about us ending in the hedgerows may be truer than any of us would like.

I do not say that to beg for assistance, for I know that neither Mr. Phillips, nor even Mr. Gardiner would allow us to live in penury, but should something happen to Papa, we would lose much of the status we currently enjoy as the daughters of a gentleman. Mama is worried that Mr. Collins would not allow us to live with him without either Jane or I marrying him, and even should that come to pass, he may still be unwilling to do as our mother wishes. The man is to arrive soon, and I worry what will happen when he comes.

Forgive me, Elizabeth, for I know my letter rambles. I have taken the lessons of Mrs. Allen to heart and have begun joining her as she visits the poor in the parish, many of whom are our tenants. Jane accompanied me once, but found it too uncomfortable for her and has no wish to continue. According to Mrs. Allen, this is what young gentlewomen ought to do, and we ought to have always been doing it. Had you remained at Longbourn, perhaps we would have, or at least I think that may be the case. Regardless, I am finally learning what I ought to have known and that will make me a better wife for someone, whenever that comes to pass. I hope it is not soon.

Elizabeth sighed upon finishing this letter. "What is it, dearest?" Darcy asked, looking up from his own correspondence.

"Mary has written. Things at Longbourn are as bad as we supposed. Part of me wishes to offer my assistance, but another part of me asks myself why I should. They wanted nothing to do with me before. I can give Mary and my next younger sisters a bit more grace, but Jane I cannot understand. She has also written, but mostly to complain about the lack of opportunities for her in Hertfordshire and begging for an invitation to come to town. I will wait a bit longer before I reply to her. However, I do feel badly for Mary. It seems she has had her eyes opened to our parents and wishes for better."

"It is a shame that her mother or father never took enough of an interest in her to teach her what she ought to know as a gentleman's daughter. I know you did not live at home for many years, but even when you were first at Pemberley, you seemed to have some inclination of what was expected by the mistress of an estate. I remember you speaking to Mrs. Reynolds and even my father about some of the problems you noticed when you traipsed through the estate," Darcy said with a grin, obviously remembering that time. "Father was amazed at some of the problems you pointed out."

She grinned back at him. "My aunt always spoke to me about what was expected of someone of my station. She was the daughter of a gentleman, though her father did not own an estate. Her father was a second son, but she did spend some time on the family's estate. My grandmother also spent a little time with me before she died. In fact, she died not long before I was sent to London, which I think was one of the reasons that Mr. Bennet finally gave in to Mrs. Bennet's demands. Before that, my grandmother protected me. And I suppose I have always been observant of things, though, again, my aunt encouraged me to choose charitable pursuits. Helping with the tenants at Pemberley just seemed to be an easy way to provide assistance where I could."

Darcy nodded and the couple sat for several moments in silence. Finally, he spoke. "Perhaps your Aunt Gardiner would be willing to allow Mary to join them in London for a time. I am hesitant to invite her to join us, at least not directly from Longbourn. From what you have said, I feel certain others would attempt to turn anything we do for one sister into a way to use us. Mary would benefit from the companionship of Mrs. Gardiner."

Elizabeth sighed. "If it becomes untenable for her at Longbourn, I will suggest it. However, right now it seems that the rector's wife and my friend Charlotte are aiding Mary. I hope to hear more about this Mr. Collins and see what happens there. If Mary is forced to accept an engagement to him, I will not hesitate to act. Also, I will speak of this to my aunt when she visits, for she would likely want to know how she might be of aid if it is required."