Mr Collins' Bride
Content Warning: Contains character death
When Elizabeth Bennet accepts Mr Collins' proposal, she does so out of duty to her dying father and struggling family. But fate has other plans. As her wedding day approaches, Elizabeth finds herself increasingly drawn to the proud and mysterious Mr Darcy, whose unexpected kindness during her darkest hours begins to unravel her prejudices against him.
Yet with her hand promised to another and her family's future at stake, Elizabeth must choose between duty and the yearnings of her heart. In a world where a woman's reputation is everything and family obligations cannot be ignored, will Elizabeth find the courage to follow her heart, or will duty forever keep her from true happiness?
This re-imagining of Pride and Prejudice explores what might have happened if Elizabeth had said yes to Mr Collins, and how love can flourish even in the most unlikely circumstances.
Chapter 1 - Mr Collins' Proposal
The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr Collins made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together soon after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words,
"May I hope, Madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?"
Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs Bennet instantly answered,
"Oh dear!—Yes—certainly.—I am sure Lizzy will be very happy—I am sure she can have no objection.—Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs." And gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth called out,
"Dear Ma'am, do not go.—I beg you will not go.—Mr Collins must excuse me.—He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am going away myself."
"No, no, nonsense, Lizzy.—I desire you will stay where you are."—And upon Elizabeth's seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about to escape, she added, "Lizzy, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr Collins."
Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction—and a moment's consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and tried to conceal by incessant employment the feelings which were divided between distress and diversion. Mrs Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as soon as they were gone Mr Collins began.
"Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected mother's permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—and moreover for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did."
The idea of Mr Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and he continued:
"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish.
Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness.
Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford—between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool, that she said, "Mr Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry.—Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.''
Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity I think must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite.
Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place—which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years.
This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the 4 per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."
Time seemed to stand still for an instant. Thoughts and emotions rushed through Elizabeth faster than she could begin to comprehend them. The one she was most certain of was disgust for the man in front of her and disgust that he could imagine himself in love with her and that she would return his feelings.
She could imagine it all - he would not accept her refusal, no, he was not intelligent enough for that, he would merely think she was playing with him. She would be forced to walk away from him, her mother would be angry with her, more angry than she had ever been before, and she would try and force her into marrying Mr Collins. Her father would understand, of course he would, he would not force her to do anything that she did not want to do.
She was on the verge of uttering her refusal, when something stopped her. Was that the right thing to do?
She thought of her sisters, dear Jane wanting nothing more than to marry for love, Kitty and Lydia, who would calm down with age and become more sensible, and they and Mary deserved the chance to try and be happy. Jane was in love with Mr Bingley but who knew how long it would be before they were engaged? She, Elizabeth, had never been in love; by marrying Mr Collins she could ensure that her sisters would be able to live a comfortable life after their father's death. And what was one daughter's happiness, compared with the happiness of all of the rest?
The Bennets had kept it very quiet, but Mr Bennet was not well. His complexion had grown increasingly pallid, and a persistent cough often interrupted his reading. Luckily, he did not often go out among society, preferring to remain at Longbourn in his book room. He still attended church every Sunday, putting on a brave face, so most of their acquaintances were not aware of his ill state of health. In hushed tones, his doctor had informed him that he would be lucky to live another twelve months. This grim prognosis weighed heavily on Elizabeth's mind as she contemplated their future.
She drew her attention back to Mr Collins only to find that he had continued talking, heedless that she was not paying attention. "—and I think you will find that Lady Catherine has improved my humble abode greatly, in fact I think you will find that—"
"You forget sir that I have yet to give you an answer." She interjected.
He paused, he seemed to have forgotten about that part of the proceedings, "Ah, yes." he said looking at her expectantly.
She hesitated, trying to draw strength, she thought again of Jane and her sisters. For their sakes and her mother's, there was no other way. She took a deep breath and prayed to God for strength.
She spoke quietly, "I will marry you, Mr Collins."
"My dear Miss Elizabeth, oh my dearest cousin," he face went slightly red with pleasure. "I am so glad."
Mr Collins was delighted as was her mother when he broke the news to the rest of the family. She could not contain her joy, "Oh dear Lizzy! Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "A daughter married; wait until I tell Lady Lucas. A daughter married! Mrs Collins, how well it sounds."
However the rest of the family's reactions were mixed, Mr Bennet was not nearly as pleased as his wife, Jane was confused, Lydia and Kitty were giggling non-stop and Mary was silent.
Elizabeth was called into her father's study an hour later, after he had had a discussion with Mr Collins. Elizabeth left Mr Collins and Mrs Bennet discussing the details of the wedding without her. She was very relieved to get away from them, he had insisted on holding her hand most of the evening and it had reminded her that she would be expected to do more intimate things with him.
"Close the door Lizzy," her father said from his seat by the fireside. She did as he asked and then went to him; she could see the grief on his tired pale face.
Mr Bennet looked up at her, his voice filled with concern. "Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have we not laughed at him and made fun of him from the moment he entered the house?"
"I wish there was another way," she said, trying not to cry, "but I cannot see one. My sisters need a home and my mother—" She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
"I don't think I can give you up to him," he said slowly. "Almost any other man in England, but him." He shook his head. "I should have taken better care of you all. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about."
"I cannot see another path, not after—" Elizabeth replied. She attempted to lighten the mood, saying, "I will be happy in my own way, the grounds around Rosings Park I hear are very fine." Realizing her attempt had failed, she continued more seriously, "And the knowledge that my sisters will be able to live freely and without shame will make it all worth it." I must be content with my lot in life. I must do everything in my power to see them happy and not allow us to end up on the streets."
His face seemed to grow older as she spoke, for he had failed them worse than he would have believed possible, and she had found a solution. He rose unsteadily to his feet, "You are a far better person that I have ever encountered before," kissing her forehead, blinking back the tears that were beginning to choke him up.
Elizabeth knew that she would have a similar conversation with Jane tonight, but she was too emotionally spent. She excused herself early that evening, claiming a headache from all the excitement, and went to bed.
As Elizabeth lay in bed that night, her mind raced. She imagined her future at Hunsford - the daily tedium, Mr Collins' constant presence. A wave of despair threatened to overwhelm her. But then she thought of Jane, of Lydia and Kitty, even of her mother. Their faces, full of hope and security, floated before her. She clenched her fists, steeling her resolve. 'This is for them,' she whispered into the darkness. 'I must be strong.' She lay in her bed staring at the ceiling for several hours before she cried herself to sleep.
ooOoo
The next morning dawned grey and cold, a fitting reflection of the sombre mood that had settled over Longbourn. As Elizabeth descended the stairs, the usual morning bustle seemed muted, as if the house itself was holding its breath. Breakfast was a strained affair, the clinking of cutlery against china plates unnaturally loud in the tense silence. Mr Bennet, Elizabeth and Jane were all silent, Kitty and Lydia had begun to get over their giggles but said little, but within half an hour Elizabeth was wishing that they had not stopped giggling as their comments made her blush very deeply.
Mary was the only one of the sisters who had congratulated her older sister on her engagement. Jane had walked towards Elizabeth soon after Mary had congratulated her the night before, but had turned away to pick up a book. Elizabeth knew her reason, her eldest sister wanted to speak to her alone.
It had been decided, chief by Mr Collins and Mrs Bennet, that there should be no delay in the marriage taking place.
"I regret that I cannot remain at Longbourn until our happy day," Mr Collins announced. "I must return to Kent to fulfil my duties there, but I shall return for the wedding."
Jane and Elizabeth soon after breakfast declared that they wanted to go for a walk, alone, as they would soon be in different counties to one another, Mr Collins at first had wanted to go with his dearest Elizabeth, she shuddered slightly at the phrase, but Mary had reminded him that he needed to inform his most noble patroness of his happy news. Jane smiled thanks to Mary. He agreed without pause.
And Jane and Elizabeth were left to their walk. They passed the first few minutes in a strained silence and then at last Jane finally exclaimed, "My dearest sister, please explain to me why you have engaged yourself to Mr Collins of all people?"
Elizabeth sighed for she had dreaded this conversation all night - in a sense it was to be worse than the one she had had with her father. "I saw no other option." She stopped under a tree and looked back at the house. "My father is very ill and will not live much longer," she said in almost a whisper, "and on his death if one of us is not married to Mr Collins, we would have no home, no money to live on, we would have nothing."
Jane protested "but my uncles and aunts—"
"Uncle and Aunt Gardiner have four children of their own, they could maybe take on one or two of us, but all six? Aunt Phillips does not have the space nor the money to take on five young women and their mother, even if Uncle and Aunt Gardiner did take two of us, where would the other four go?"
"But we could have worked something out," Jane began again, her brow furrowed with concern.
"There is work to be had, we could have kept ourselves." Elizabeth shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "We are gentlewomen, Jane," she reminded her sister gently. "Could you see anyone hiring Kitty and Lydia as governesses to their daughters? Or even Mary for that matter? And what about our dear mother? No, this is for the best. You will be able to live your life as you should without fear of what will become of you."
"But you and I could get jobs and support the others…" Jane said hopefully.
"And where would they live? And Mama, what about her? You and I might find something respectable, but we would not be able to make enough to support them, and what sort of life would we have?"
Jane began to protest again, but Elizabeth knew she was beginning to see things her way, though she was not at all happy about it.
Jane pleaded, "Just promise me one thing."
Elizabeth hesitated. "It depends on what that is."
"If by some chance I find another solution," Jane said earnestly, "you will break off the engagement, before it is made public?"
The two sisters finally returned to the house, Elizabeth having eventually conceded to her sister's request. She did not see how Jane would manage to find another solution before the engagement was made known, but there was a little bit of hope. That was all she needed for the moment.