Summary: Forced into an engagement with Mr. Collins, Elizabeth feels that her life is over. However, help comes unexpectedly in none other than Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. Will Mr. Darcy be able to prevent the ill-fated marriage? Or will Elizabeth be lost to Mr. Collins forever?

This story takes place right after the Netherfield Ball, when Mr. Collins proposes to Elizabeth. I skipped over the proposal, and went straight to the scene where Mr. Bennet makes his decision on whether he would have Elizabeth marry Mr. Collins or not.

Disclaimer: Pride and Prejudice is the sole property of Jane Austen. This story, however, is the property of the author © 2017, any unauthorized reproduction or publishing of any content of this story is strictly prohibited.

"No! I cannot!" She exclaimed desperately.

"You must." He replied sternly.

"I will not and you cannot make me!"

"I can and you will." He said with such force that she was stunned into silence. "You will do well to remember child that I am your father, and as you are under your majority, you will do as I say, and I say that you are to marry Mr. Collins!"

At her father's ruling, her mother exclaimed with joy, "Oh we are saved! Thank you Mr. Bennet, I knew you'd make the right decision!" Mrs. Bennet had the gall to simper.

Defeated, Elizabeth wept while her knees let out, and she landed roughly on her hip, though she didn't feel a thing, such was her anguish. Her cries soon turned to heart wrenching sobs, and thus she attempted to muffle with her hands with minimal success. Though she was not able to see her mother through her tears, it did not matter; Elizabeth knew her mother must've held the most triumphant look upon her visage.

"Oh shush Lizzy, it is not the end of the world," her mother admonished, "why, you will one day be mistress of Longbourn!"

Elizabeth chose not to dignify that with a response. With the feelings of hurt and betrayal overwhelming her, Elizabeth immediately picked herself up, and exited the room, as she could not stand the presence of her parents any longer. However she did not get far. As she exited the book room she came upon her betrothed, who had a most self-satisfied air that's only purpose –she felt –was to grate on her already agitated spirits. He had obviously been listening, and knew he was the victor.

And yet, how could a man be satisfied knowing that he is to marry an unwilling bride? It was not to be borne, and yet, she could not do otherwise. Her father had spoken, and his word is law –as he had so ruthlessly pointed out moments before. Desperate to get as far away as possible, Elizabeth stormed out of Longbourn, not caring to gather her pelisse nor gloves before heading out the door. She hoped for rain, better yet a storm. With any luck, she'd catch illness and die. Though it would not be a particularly dignified demise, she'd prefer death a hundred-fold to marrying Mr. Collins. To be united with such a man.

She ran as far and as fast as she could, until her legs ached and her chest burned from the strain. Elizabeth slowed down to take in her surroundings, and unexpectedly found herself in her most favorite place in the world –Oakham Mount. The vistas, the rolling hills, the greenery –all that she always enjoyed so much, her little haven, did nothing for her today.

Elizabeth sat at her favorite spot, against a large tree that had soft-mossy undergrowth that felt almost as soft as pillows while she reclined in repose. This was her usual place when she required thinking. She'd ponder over books, troubles she had (particularly with her mother), persons' characters, the tenants, or her sisters. Today though, she would not contemplate those things, as all she could ruminate was the fact that her life was over. Surely, she thought, that after she married Mr. Collins, she'd never be the same. He'd take her happiness, her laughter, the very light in her life –the hopes to marry for love –he'd take everything from her, and all that would be left would be a shell of her former self.

To think, Elizabeth woke up with so much great hopes today –hopes for her dear sister Jane and Mr. Bingley. It was the day after the Netherfield ball, and yet, it felt like ages ago. Had it really happened only the night before? Surely it was days, weeks, or months ago? No, it was not. It had happened just yesterday. Elizabeth had danced, laughed, and enjoyed herself immensely. Albeit, with the exception of dancing with her odious cousin, for that was what he was –the very bane of her existence. It was far worse dancing with him than with the taciturn Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy. He was a conundrum indeed, one that she'd doubtlessly ever have the chance of figuring out. Yesterday, she was angry with him. How dare he single her out for a dance? She whom he only looked at to find fault; and yet, she was the only lady he danced with that was not amongst his party –a detail that Charlotte was only too happy to point out.

He also chased Mr. Wickham away. It was obvious as the gentleman failed to show, though he assured her that the very presence of Mr. Darcy would not keep him away. But in spite of his assurances, stood away he did. This news was conveyed to her by Mr. Wickham's good friend, Lieutenant Denny. Normally, Elizabeth would've pondered over the fact that Mr. Wickham did not keep to his word, and furthermore that he was indeed avoiding Mr. Darcy. She would have delved further into the mystery to eventually conclude that all was not as she initially perceived, and that there was most definitely more to the story between the two gentlemen than has been thus far revealed. Although Mr. Darcy would give her no details, he did attempt at some sort of a warning, Elizabeth supposed.

For he said, "Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends –whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain." *

Though at the time Elizabeth heard this with indignation, and had she had a clearer mind today – one not muddled of troubled thoughts revolving around Mr. Collins –she would have given herself to ruminating Mr. Darcy's words. Why would he say such a thing about Mr. Wickham? After all, Mr. Wickham was everything a gentleman ought to be. He was well mannered, charming, and (though embarrassed as she was to admit) most handsome. Yet, Mr. Darcy –stern, taciturn and sometimes downright haughty Mr. Darcy –had attempted to keep her away from Mr. Wickham. A clearer warning could not be given, though no other information was offered.

Initially, she had been inclined to come to Mr. Wickham's defense, how could she otherwise? The cruelty and contempt Mr. Darcy treated Mr. Wickham after the elder Mr. Darcy's passing was shameful. How could one clearly disregard his father's dying wishes? Although Elizabeth would not have been able to fault Mr. Darcy on that account, given she would unquestionably defy her father's orders had she a say in her own future! Oh if only she had the liberty to chuse! Mr. Collins, without a doubt, would be the last man she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. So no, she could not fault Mr. Darcy for disregarding his father's wishes, for she would disregard her father's desires, if she were able. Given this, Elizabeth would've come to the conclusion that perhaps Mr. Wickham was not the wretch that he claimed to be; and she furthermore would have kept a closer eye on him to fully determine his , none of these ruminations came to pass. How could they? When all Elizabeth could do is mourn a future that would never be hers, a future that denied her happiness, laughter, and above all, love.

Mr. Bennet was a miserable man. How could he not? For he had just sacrificed his daughter –his most beloved child –to the odious Mr. Collins. Oh how he loathed the day he received the wretched letter from Kent. Mr. Bennet should have written back immediately and denied him entrance. But no, there was no use of wanting to change the past, for what good would it do? It could not change anything, what was done is done.

Besides, he knew that Elizabeth marrying Mr. Collins was a necessary evil. He just wished he would not have to part with her, especially to him. There will be neither love nor respect in that dreadful union, and he knew his Lizzy would fade away. His once intelligent, lively and bright child would fade away into a complacent ma'am –that parson's wife. He knew –oh did he know! –that his dearest precious Elizabeth could not survive being tied to such a man! For Mr. Collins was utterly ridiculous in his manner, his way of speaking, and that of his very thoughts!

And yet, it was the most fitting punishment, was it not? For Mr. Bennet had failed his family most abominably. He failed to provide for his wife and daughters after his death. Where he could have tended his property judiciously (as he very well ought), controlled his wife's outrageous spending, and increased the income of the estate, he did none of those things. Instead, he decided on academic pursuits, feeling that increasing one's understanding trumped any other obligations he had. He felt that he cannot be too much to blame, for he was sure he was to have a son –the heir of Longbourn. As the years passed by, and only girls were born, he did feel an inclination, rather a prick of consciousness that perhaps he ought to do something for his family should he perish. Though just as soon as those thoughts crossed his mind, he'd become distracted, shut in his book room reading over cherished pursuits such as philosophy. Thus, ensconced in his domain, he let Mrs. Bennet full reign, for surely if his daughters married well, they would have no troubles in the future, once he was called to St. Peter's gate.

Yes, losing Elizabeth to Mr. Collins was his penance indeed –one he felt most keenly. He loved Elizabeth, and wanted the world for her. Although he loved all of his children, each dear to him in their own way. But Elizabeth, she was special. She reminded him of his dearly departed mother –in looks and mannerisms, she was the very essence of his mother. Elizabeth had such a lively mind and light-hearted wit, that Mr. Bennet wished the world for her. He knew her most heartfelt desires, and he wished with all his might he could give it to her. Nothing could make him happier than to see his children marry for love. Yet, he was the author of his dear daughter's unhappiness. For he forced this farce of an engagement upon her. And why? All for his callousness, his very negligence that led him astray. That of which had recently come to his attention but mere weeks ago.

Mr. Bennet was having a day like any other. He was off attending his annual (although he knew it should at the very least be monthly) overseeing of his estate, when his horse became startled by a snake that unexpectedly crossed their path. Had Mr. Bennet been on his trusty steed, Goliath (one who was lovingly named by Lydia when she was but 9 years old), he would have been able to calm him and the incident would've been forgotten. However, Jane was to dine at Netherfield Park that day, and so Mr. Bennet was obliged to take General (also named by Lydia, but a year ago) in his stead. General, a beautiful black stallion was a costly purchase that Mr. Bennet felt was much deserved. 'For', thought he, 'though it cost quite a bit of pounds, the services he would render would far outweigh the price I had to pay.' Furthermore, Goliath was getting rather old, and a new stallion was just what was in need. Though Mr. Bennet failed to acknowledge that such stallions were purchased from young gentleman who preferred a fast (and at times dangerous) ride. Though General was of a fine breed, he was not yet a tried and true mount. Mr. Bennet did not mind, he felt he could handle any type of horse, and rather enjoyed the thought of being able to gallop freely through his estate. A choice that he thoroughly regretted that day, seeing as General kicked and bucked, throwing Mr. Bennet off his saddle. The last thing Mr. Bennet remembered was the feeling of being in the air, and in his terror could not help but think his sardonic thought of, so this is what it feels like to fly, before being feeling an immense pain at the back of his head and promptly blacking out.

Mr. Bennet thankfully woke from his misadventure late into the afternoon. Disoriented, he wondered why he suddenly decided to take a nap in the middle of the fields of his estate. Just along the path was General, serenely feeding off vegetation, as if nothing had happened. Mr. Bennet, however, was not left contemplating long, for he remembered how he ended up on the ground. Looking up at the sky, Mr. Bennet noted, to his dismay, the eerie dark clouds that loomed over him. Sure enough, the heavens opened and it started to rain while he slowly picked himself up. He dared not ride General again. He learned his lesson –as hard as it was, and he would not risk taking another tumble, lest he break his neck! Instead, he decided to tread his way slowly back to Longbourn. When he entered, nothing seemed amiss. His family was nowhere to be seen, and he very much fancied that they were likely searching for him. He entered his bookroom and rang for a servant. Hill obediently entered quickly. Though he expected to hear accounts of his family filled with worry at his absence, Hill gave him no indication that that was the case. She did, to his chagrin, note his disheveled state, and quickly went to retrieve a water basin and washcloth while he warmed himself by the fire. He knew he ought to change –lest he fall ill- but he could not bring himself to face his wife just yet.

He could almost hear Mrs. Bennet's exclamations were he to catch a cold. 'Oh Mr. Bennet, how could you be so careless? Why, you are surely to catch your death and then what would become of us? We'd be thrown to the hedgerows before you are even cold in your grave!'

No, he was far better off waiting in his bookroom to dry before heading to his rooms and ready for dinner. When Hill returned, Mr. Bennet asked about his family, only to be informed she went to visit Lady Lucas in the carriage, no doubt to crow over Jane being invited to dine with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Not a thing was mentioned about his disappearance, indeed no one knew of his unfortunate accident. How long would he have been lying in the mud before he would be given much-needed succor? He would not know. He thought that surely they would realize his absence at dinner? Yet, seeing as he chose to take his repast in his bookroom –mostly to avoid his silly cousin –he thought perhaps not.

And what if he died? What he always thought as the ridiculous ramblings of his silly wife, did not seem so silly anymore. Indeed, now they felt almost prophetic. For, what would happen to his dear family once he died? He was loath to admit that he made no preparations for them. Them being thrown off to the hedgerows was a great possibility. Though he knew he would not leave them without friends –Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Phillips were sure to bring aid to Fanny and their daughters. He could not help but think, is that enough? Perhaps they could find a little cottage, and live very modestly –the provisions left to them wouldn't give them any other choice. Or they could be split up, the eldest live with the Gardiners while Mrs. Bennet and Kitty and Lydia lived with the Phillips'. But how long would these arrangements last? Jane and Elizabeth would have no choice but to seek employment. They would be governesses and companions at best. While he thought the very best of his daughters, he was practical enough to know they had no real accomplishments. At least, none of the required requisites for becoming a governess.

With a heavy heart, he decided that no, they did not know enough. Though his two eldest daughters were kind, intelligent, and beautiful, they did not have what was required for a life of service. The only way to save them from poverty was for them to marry, and marry well. With these morose thoughts, Mr. Bennet decided to join Mrs. Bennet's campaign, and if any of his daughter's were so fortunate as to receive an offer of marriage, he would readily give his permission. He only hoped that his daughters would marry for affection, as well as duty.

*Chapter 18, Pride and Prejudice