Beginning, Section II
Jump to new as of August 9, 2000
Lydia blabbed on and on about the charms of Mr. Wickham the whole way back to Longbourn, and continued to talk of him, without stopping, for the next three days. It was obvious to her sisters that Lydia was "in love" with the poor man. Lydia was always falling in love. A week earlier she pronounced herself madly in love with Denny, and a few weeks before that she had declared she was going to marry Edbourgh. Now she had moved on once again, and Denny was all but forgotten.
Although one of the Bennet sisters no longer cared for Denny, another couldn't stop thinking about him. Mary sat by the window, holding an open book in her lap, but not reading. She was the only one home, but she couldn't concentrate! This was quite odd, for Mary had always been able to read through anything--an attack on her mother's nerves, her father's sarcastic humor, Lydia gushing over the infamous officers, and almost any other distraction thrown at her.
But today was different. Today all she her mind could only focus on an extraordinarily insensible subject: Mr. Denny. Never before in her entire life had Mary paid any heed to a silly officer. Not even the handsomest could tempt her away from her books! But there had been a certain something in his eyes when he looked at her that day in town. It was like for the first time ever he was actually looking at her, Mary Bennet, rather than the shrewish girl sitting in the corner reading.
Elizabeth and Ashley had worked hard at improving Mary's looks, and she now looked quite becoming. Slowly, men started noticing her. However, Mary didn't want to be noticed... not then at least. Now she hoped to gain the notice of one man, and she had no idea why. She could never hope to gain the notice of Mr. Denny. He was too in love with Lydia to notice Mary.
Mary closed her eyes. "Please, God, help Mr. Denny to visit us today," she whispered. When she opened her eyes, she saw a large, black carriage pull up in front of the house. Her unread book dropped from her lap, as she stood. She covered her mouth with her hands, and gawked at the carriage in utter amazement. Could it possibly be?
"Thank y--" Mary began to thank God, but before she could finish, a short, stubby man climbed out of the carriage. he paused dramatically on the last step for a moment, to observe the fine estate, before he tripped, and fell to the ground.
"I'm alight!" Mary heard him shout. His eyes darted about him. He seemed to notice that no one was there to great him.
Mary left the window, and headed downstairs to greet this odd man. She opened the large front door, and found she was the only person outside. Still.
"Aaah!" the man cried happily when he beheld Mary. "To which of Mr. Bennet's lovely daughters do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
"I am Mary Bennet," she answered, somewhat uneasily.
"Very good, Miss Mary. Where might the rest of your family be?" He asked, in a rather impolite manner.
"My other sisters and my mother are in town, and my father is dinning at Netherfield today," Mary said. "I am all alone."
"Strange. To leave a young female home all by herself is highly improper. Let's hope Lady Catherine never gets wind of this!" the man exclaimed with intense warmth..
"Might I be so bold to inquire who you are?" Mary asked cautiously.
"Who I am! Surely your father has mentioned me. Why, I sent him a letter a week ago telling him I would be visiting. It is rather strange than that no one but yourself is home." The man's speech did not answer Mary's question at all.
"But what is your name. If you tell me this, I might be able to tell you if my father has mentioned you before," Mary said sensibly.
"Excellent suggestion, My lady!" Cried the pompous man. "For one so beautiful, you are very intelligent! I heard tell of the great beauties of the Bennets, and, pardon me, I always thought they would be rather... stupid... but you have proven me wrong! What an intelligent girl you are. I'm sure you are accomplished, too."
"It depends on what you mean by 'accomplished,' sir," said Mary cautiously. Who was this man?!
"You can probably sing, play, dance, sew, draw, and whatever young ladies do to employ themselves," said the man.
"I am not very good at most of those things, sir," said Mary honestly.
"And Modesty, too! My dear Miss Bennet, it is not often one sees so many good features all wrapped up in one women."
"Thank you. Might I inquire: what is your name?"
"However you don't listen very well. That is something every lady should do well. Listen carefully, my name is William Collins," said Mr. Collins angrily. He fancied he had said his name to the lady more times than he could count already. The problem with women, so he thought, was that their heads were so full of nonsense that no one could carry on a decent conversation with one.
Earlier that morning, Lydia dragged all her sisters--all but Mary--and Ashley out of bed, and hurried them through breakfast so they could all troop into town in hopes of spying on Mr. Wickham. They did run into Mr. Wickham, but poor Lydia's plan backfired when Mr. Wickham sought out Elizabeth, rather than herself.
Lydia had never been so angry in her life. How come her older sisters got all the good Beaux? The officers were always falling all over Jane, and things for Elizabeth really were no different. However this time Lydia wanted to have the man she wanted. It just wasn't fair!
Ashley noted Mr. Wickham's attention to Elizabeth. She didn't like him from the start, but now she hated him even more. How was Elizabeth going to fall in love with Mr. Darcy with Mr. Wickham trying to make Elizabeth fall in love with him?
There was no easy answer, but Ashley knew she had to try.
It was finally the weekend before the Prom. Angie was excited that it was so soon, because she couldn't wait to dance with Matt Carter. Matt was happy, because he knew the sooner the Prom ended, the sooner he would be able to cut all ties with Angie, and focus on his life and Ashley.
Matt didn't hate Angie. In fact he rather liked her. She was always warm and bubbly no matter what the situation, but she wasn't Ashley.
"This is insane!" Matt muttered as he put his rented, black tux on. "I'm in love with a girl I never talked to." It didn't make any sense to Matt, just like it wouldn't make any sense to anyone else... except Mrs. Norton. He didn't even know if she was nice or not (Mrs. Norton said she was, but it wasn't always the best to take to word of a mother for truth). He was going to the Prom with a perfectly nice girl, but he knew every time he held that girl in his arms he would be thinking about Ashley, and wishing it was Ashley he was holding.
The day of the ball at Netherfield arrived. Everyone, including Mary, was looking forward to the day of the ball. The ladies ran about, making last minute preparations, hemming dresses, having their hair done, and getting dressed, while Mr. Bennet only stood in a corner, and laughed at them.
Soon it was time to leave. All the ladies and the one gentleman squeezed into the carriage, and headed toward Netherfield.
Matt arrived at Angie's house. It was the first time he had driven since the accident. He hadn't wanted to drive, but Angie thought a limousine was too impersonal, or something like that. Angie also didn't want to drive , so Matt had to drive.
Matt got out of his car, and walked slowly up to Angie's door. Before he could ring the door bell, the door was flung open, and Angie jumped out, almost knocking Matt over.
"Sorry!" Angie cried. She was so nervous. This was the first time she had ever been on a date with any boy, and Matt wasn't just any boy.
Matt opened her car door first, then walked around to the driver's side. 'He's such a gentleman!' Angie thought happily. She smoothed her strapless, long black dress. She hoped Matt liked it.
As Matt pulled out of Angie's driveway onto the street, he the scene of the accident kept flashing before his eyes. Matt flinched. Why was he doing this? He didn't want to drive!
The Bennets' and Ashley arrived at the ball. Right away Ashley noticed Elizabeth was looking for someone.
"He's not here," Elizabeth murmured.
"Who?" asked Ashley.
"Mr. Wickham," Elizabeth replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Miss Elizabeth!" said Mr. Denny.
Elizabeth turned and looked at him, "Yes?" She asked.
"I have a message from Mr. Wickham. He is not coming to the ball. I believe he wanted to avoid...certain people," Denny said.
"I understand. Thank you for telling me, Denny," Elizabeth smiled at him, then turned back to Ashley.
"Certain people?" asked Ashley.
"Mr. Darcy ruined Mr. Wickham's life. Mr. Wickham can't even look at Mr. Darcy without conjuring up all those awful feelings."
"Mr. Darcy ruined his life? I can't believe that!"
"Believe it. Mr. Darcy doesn't even care. Hateful man!" Elizabeth cried with warmth.
The Prom began. It was truly a beautiful night. Angie couldn't imagine a more perfect date. As the first dance began, Angie pulled herself closer to Matt and whispered, "I think I'm in love with you."
Matt pulled away, and stared at Angie. He couldn't believe his ears. "What?" he asked.
"I think I'm in love with you," she repeated.
"Miss Norton." Ashley turned around, and found Matthew Bingley had walked up to her. "Might I have the honor of the first two dances with you?"
Ashley grinned. "Yes. I would like that."
"Wonderful," said Matthew. The music began, and Matt lead her onto the floor.
As Ashley danced with Matthew, she noticed Elizabeth and Charlotte talking in the corner. From nowhere, Mr. Darcy walked up to the two women, and focused his attention on Elizabeth. Surprise and shock covered Elizabeth's face. Ashley was sure Mr. Darcy had asked her to dance.
At first Ashley was pleased with Mr. Darcy for working up the nerve to ask her, but the pleasure quickly disappeared. Not ten minutes earlier Elizabeth had been declaring her hatred for Mr. Darcy, and now the poor man had to dance with her.
"Mr. Bingley," Ashley said, turning toward her partner, "Is Mr. Darcy much acquainted with Mr. Wickham?"
"Oh," Matt groaned. Angie had just told him she thought she was in love with him. Matt was in a daze. Angie couldn't be in love with him, they had only known each other a couple weeks.
"Yeah," continued Angie cheerfully. "And I was thinking, umm, I'd like to be your girlfriend."
"Oh." A pained look crossed Matt's face.
"So what do you think?" She asked.
Matt noticed suddenly that they weren't dancing, and the couples around them were starting to get angry. "Ummm,"
"Well?" Angie was starting to worry that Matt was never going to say anything over a monosyllable.
"Well what?" Matt asked, confused.
"What do you think?" Angie repeated. She was starting to get annoyed. She had spilled her heart to Matt, and now he was just going to grunt?
"I-I," Matt glanced at the increasingly upset couples around them, and said, "I think we should go over there." Matt pointed toward two empty chairs across the room.
What was he going to do?
"Miss Norton...," Matthew Bingley began. What was he going to say to her? Ashley had just asked him what he knew about the relationship between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham.
"Mr. Bingley," Ashley said. She sensed the pain her question had caused him, but the sudden rigidness of his face, body, and manner of address, "I'm sorry to have pained you. I was only wondering, because my friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet has been apprised of some misconduct on Mr. Darcy's part. I don't want to believe it's true, though. I believed Mr. Darcy to be a genuinely nice man, and incapable of harming anyone."
"Miss Elizabeth received her information from ...Mr. Wickham?" asked Matthew.
Ashley nodded.
"Come with me, and I will tell you what I know...," Matthew said as he grabbed her wrist and lead her to an empty corner.
Angie felt very frustrated. She wanted Matt to say he thought he was in love with her too. They had been sitting in complete silence for what felt like two hours. Her dream prom was turning into a disaster.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked him.
Matt, who had been deep in thought up until that moment, was dragged from his thoughts by Angie's words. He didn't want to say anything. He didn't want her to say anything either. He wished she could just pretend "it" had never happened.
"Say something!" Angie suddenly exclaimed. "I didn't tell you how I feel just so I could watch you sit there and stair into space."
"Oh," Matt grumbled.
"That's not what I had in mind...," Angie stated honestly. She was pretty sure that Matt didn't return her feelings. If he did, wouldn't he have said something already?
"Angie. Ummm, I guess what I have to say--well I guess you aren't going to want to hear it. I don't love you. I hardly know you." However long Matt could have thought about his situation, he never could have been prepared for what Angie said next.
Angie turned her innocent brown eyes on him, and studied him carefully, before saying, "Is there someone else?"
Matthew had been told of the affairs between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham through his good friend, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Of those affairs, he related only what was necessary to acquit Mr. Darcy from any wrong in his young friends eyes. (of that information, I'm sure my readers are fully aware, so I shall spare the details)
Miss Norton was shocked by the conduct of Mr. Wickham. "I never believed him capable of doing such wrongs!" cried she. "There was something about him I didn't like from the start," she proclaimed honestly. Somehow, the extent of the information did not seem entirely unfamiliar to her.
"Yes. Miss Norton, I beg you to you all precautions in telling this story. I am sure Mr. Darcy would not be at all pleased to hear that this story--this story that pains him so--is all over the streets, and fuel for the gossips."
Ashley agreed. "I do commend Mr. Darcy, however. He is a true gentleman. He is so blameless, and yet he has obtained only a low opinion from Elizabeth."
"Why would Mr. Darcy care about Elizabeth's opinion?" Matthew asked. His eyes danced at the thought. Mr. Darcy who had said Elizabeth was almost as beautiful as Mrs. Bennet was a wit. Mr. Darcy, who had condescended to say Elizabeth was only tolerable (Matthew's brother had informed him of this). "It's quite laughable!" he laughed.
Ashley only blushed, and became suddenly interested with the toes of her shoes.
Matthew's smile died on his lips. "...unless you know something I don't." He looked at her intently, hoping she would tell him what she knew, and confirm his sudden suspicions.
Ashley's suddenly caught sight of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth dancing, and found her self watching in utter amazement. 'So Mr. Darcy convinced her to dance after all!' Ashley thought happily. She didn't dare hope Elizabeth's opinion would be changed by one dance, but at least she would be able to see how amiable he was.
Matthew looked in the direction Ashley was looking, and saw what she was saw. He was shocked. Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth? Could it be true?
"What do you know, Miss Norton?" Matthew asked, leaning closer to her, and rubbing his hands together.
"I'm sorry, Angie...,"
"Matt, you're avoiding the question. Please tell me there is no one else."
"I-I didn't want to say this to you, but...but...," Matt began, but he didn't want to finish. He wished Angie could finish the sentence for him, but she seemed to be completely in the dark. "I'm in love with Ashley Norton." he blurted out quickly.
Angie's eyes narrowed. "Ashley Norton. You say you don't know me well enough, after knowing me a few weeks, and yet you claim to be 'in love' with Ashley, who, to my knowledge as her best friend, you have never actually talked to. Oh, unless you include sitting with her corps at the hospital," Angie said bluntly.
"Corps!" Matt cried. "Ashley may be a lot of things, but she is certainly not dead."
"She's not talking to you, and that's practically the same thing. From what I've heard at the hospital, it's not likely that she will ever wake up if she is out of it any longer. Whatever," Angie said, getting up. She turned around and started walking away. She turned back toward him, and said, "I do wish you all the luck in the world with Ashley. She's shy, so it's not likely that you'll actually get anywhere with her if she wakes up anyway." With that, Angie turned again, and swaggered away from Matt, as if trying to give him a sense of what he had lost.
Matt shook his head. Although Angie had blown a lot of steam at him in her reproof, she had also said something that made him stop and think. How could he be in love with someone he had never actually--really--talked to? He couldn't be. It was impossible.
"Tell me!" Matthew pressed. He grinned at Miss Norton. She looked at the ground, and smiled. Her one dimple, on her left cheek made her look so endearing that Matthew had to turn away, so his emotions wouldn't run away on him.
"I cannot tell you anything," Ashley replied.
"Can't, or won't?" Matthew asked. "Come now, Ash---Miss Norton. You can tell me."
"Tell what?" Mr. Darcy said walking up behind them.
"Mr. Bingley was just begging me to tell him something of my home town," Ashley replied.
"Right. I am quite curious about Stevens Point," Matthew grinned.
"Stevens Point," Ashley replied. How had he known that was her home? How did she know that was her home?
"Where is this 'Stevens Point'?" Mr. Darcy asked, suddenly curious.
"Wisconsin," both Matthew and Ashley said at the same time. They looked at each other in surprise.
"Where is Wisconsin?" Asked Mr. Darcy. Wisconsin was not yet a state, and was completely unknown to him.
"Oh!" cried Ashley, trying to discover a way to amend the rather uncomfortable situation. "It's just a territory in the United States."
"Aah," said Darcy knowingly. He had noticed Miss Norton's harsh, American accent early on. "I knew your accent was... American." He smiled at Ashley. "Someday I'd like to visit the United States."
Ashley was hardly able to acknowledge Mr. Darcy's comment. She was too confused by Matthew. How did he know?
Mrs. Norton sat in a chair next to her daughter. Matt had just come and gone. Obviously the prom had not gone as well as Angie had said it would, but she had been unable to get Matt to open up and tell her what had gone wrong.
She sighed, and looked at Ashley's almost angelic face. She shook her head. "Sometimes, Ash, I wonder what your thinking about."
The Netherfield ball had ended, and the Bennets had finally left. Everything was once again quiet. Quiet for a few, short minutes, that was. Caroline Bingley, after a few minutes of reflection, felt called upon to make her observations of the night to the rest of the party.
"I thought Miss Eliza Bennet in very poor spirits," said she, trying to catch Darcy's eye as she did.
"Really," cried her eldest brother, "I thought her very happy."
"No, dear brother, I believe you are confusing her with Miss Jane Bennet--the women you spent practically the whole night with," said Caroline. The anger rose in her voice.
"What?" Mr. Bingley asked dumbly. "Miss Bennet is a very amiable women. I really like her almost as much as I like Miss Norton."
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "I did not have the pleasure of seeing you dance with Miss Norton tonight," said he, raising one eye brow.
Mr. Bingley realized his folly. He had been so preoccupied by Miss Bennet, that he hadn't even thought to look at Miss Norton, let alone dance with her. "Perhaps you were to busy dancing with Miss Elizabeth to notice," Mr. Bingley said, trying to save himself.
"I danced with her once, as a form of civility," Darcy said, while giving Caroline a look, as if to tell her to keep her mouth shut. "You slighted every women in the room, including Miss Norton--a women whom you profess to love."
Mr. Bingley was cornered. The only thing he could do was spill the whole story to the onlookers. "You're right, Darcy. I did only dance with Miss Bennet. When she came here with Miss Elizabeth to take care of Miss Norton while she was sick, I-I fell in love with her. Now I know what you are going to say," Mr. Bingley rushed forward, seeing Mr. Darcy's mouth open to say something, "But this time it is for real, and she returns my feelings. We have been secretly engaged since the day they left."
"Engaged!" Louisa Bingley exclaimed, waking her husband, who had been in a deep drunken slumber since the first half hour of the ball.
"Who--What?" Mr. Hurst sputtered, in his still half drunken stupor.
"Never mind, dear," Louisa whispered, "Go back to sleep."
Mr. Hurst obeyed, and that was the last that was heard from him the rest of the night.
Matt was glad the day after the prom was a Sunday, rather than a Monday. He couldn't help but feel a little (okay, maybe a lot) of apprehension over seeing Angie again. He didn't want to see her for the rest of his life.
He thought about going to the hospital to visit Ashley, but Angie's words kept flashing through his mind.
"Ashley Norton. You say you don't know me well enough, after knowing me a few weeks, and yet you claim to be 'in love' with Ashley, who, to my knowledge as her best friend, you have never actually talked to. Oh, unless you include sitting with her corps at the hospital."
"I can't be in love with her," he said aloud, "I don't even know her."
Somehow, however, Matt felt like he was getting to know Ashley quite well.
Sometimes he dreamed about Ashley. He dreamt that they were it the midst of Pride and Prejudice.
He still remembered the dream he'd had the night after Ashley's had recovered after almost dying. He dreamt that he was sitting in a little room with Ashley, talking to her. She told him about a remarkable dream she had had--with him in it. But she kept calling him "Mr. Bingley." The strangest part was Matt didn't correct her. It seemed natural that, for the time being, she called him Mr. Bingley rather than Mr. Carter, or, preferably, Matt.
Then there was also the dream he'd had last night. He dreamt he and Ashley were talking--perhaps flirting--when another man, Mr. Darcy, asked them what they were talking about. Ashley said they were discussing her hometown, and Matt said her hometown was Stevens Point, Wisconsin. Ashley looked surprised at his knowing this.
"Why should she be?" Matt asked, sitting up on his bed. I live here to. Then suddenly it hit him. She doesn't know! Could it be possible that Ashley didn't remember anything, and somehow he was supposed to help her. Maybe there were two worlds. The dream world, and the real world. Maybe he and Ashley were suddenly a part of both. Perhaps, Matt thought, Ashley and I come together subconsciously, and that's why I feel like I know her so well.
"That's impossible!" he shouted at his ceiling. There was no way that could be true.
Ashley sat alone by a fogged up window. It was early morning, and no one was up yet. Ashley had woken early, hoping to take a long walk before anyone else was up. However, it was raining once again, making a walk almost impossible.
I need to be alone, so I can collect my thoughts thought Ashley. She was confused. She couldn't understand how Mr. Matthew knew she lived in Stevens Point, when she hadn't even know her self. Even stranger was the fact that she knew beyond the shadow of the doubt that Stevens Point was in Wisconsin, a state in the United States of America--a state that didn't even exist, at that.
I always felt like I knew Mr. Matthew from somewhere. And that dream I had when I was sick! Ashley recalled the dream, where she had found herself in a strange room, surrounded by strange people, that she knew she shouldn't have known. But they all looked so familiar to her! She felt like if she pried further back in her memory banks, she could name each one of them.
There was one, however, who she knew by his eyes. It was Matthew Bingley... but it wasn't. It was Matthew...Matt...someone...
Every time she thought of the dream, she recalled a hellish screeching noise, and the flash of those two, strangely familiar eyes through her mind.
"Why do I keep having these memories?" She asked aloud.
No one answered.
Matthew slowly packed his bags. He was reluctant to leave Netherfield. He knew he was going to miss everyone--especially Miss Norton. He wished his brother hadn't been such a fool to enter into such an engagement, but he had, and Mr. Darcy reacted accordingly.
Mr. Darcy had been somewhat out of sorts all morning, and Matthew was pretty sure he knew why. He must be in love with Elizabeth Bennet thought Matthew, and he knew he was right. Why would a man be so upset over leaving a place he had always professed to detest, unless there was love involved?
"What are we going to do about the engagement between Miss Bennet and Charles?" Matthew asked. "We can't just leave, without giving Miss Bennet notification of some kind."
"You are right, Matthew. But perhaps it would make more sense, if you said, 'We can't separate the lovers.' This is a dirty business, and I can't believe I ever let Caroline convince me to do it."
"What?" Matthew cried. "You were the one who said we should separate the two in the first place... remember?"
"Yes, but that was before I learned of their engagement. I feel strongly on the fact that love should not be separated. I moved that we stay here until Bingley and Miss Bennet marry, but your sister had other ideas. She presented a very strong case to me. She said they weren't, in fact, in love, and the moment Bingley sees another pretty face, he will remember Miss Bennet no more."
"How cold!" Matthew exclaimed. "My brother may have 'fallen in love' so many times I've lost count, but he never proposed to any of those women. He must be in love."
"We can't stop our leaving now, though. Even if Bingley is in love," Darcy said sadly.
"What? Why?"
"Your sister had Bingley write Miss Bennet a letter, calling off the engagement, and by now she's already received it, read it, and is crying over it."
"Detestable!" cried Matthew angrily. "How can we do that to this poor girl? I can't believe I'm going along with you and Caroline."
Darcy nodded slowly, and said, "I can't either."
Jane received a letter at breakfast. The moment she saw the handwriting, she snatched it up, and ran off to her room to read it. Elizabeth soon grabbed Ashley's hand and the two followed her to see what the letter was about.
"He's leaving," Jane whispered the moment she saw Elizabeth and Ashley standing before her.
"Who?" asked Elizabeth, who was rather confused. Who was the "he" that could be writing her sister?
"Mr. Bingley," she sniffed through her tears.
Ashley couldn't help but turn away for a moment, so she could re-gain herself. The subject of Mr. Bingley and Jane still hurt her a little.
"We-we were secretly engaged, and he wrote to tell me he was leaving, and-and, the engagement is off." On the last word Jane began to cry loudly, and pathetically. "He doesn't love me after all!" cried the poor, distressed girl.
Elizabeth looked at Ashley, trying to calculate how this was affecting her. For weeks now Elizabeth had believed Mr. Bingley loved Ashley, and that Ashley loved him. Now she learned that Mr. Bingley was in love with Jane. How did Ashley feel about this?
Ashley saw that Elizabeth was taking pity on her, so she said, "Jane, perhaps it is not Mr. Bingley's doing--"
"Oh! But it is. This is Mr. Bingley's hand!" exclaimed Jane.
"Listen, Jane. Maybe a member of his party discovered your engagement, and thought it would hurt me if I found out (you'll remember there was a time when everyone thought he was in love with me, and I with him). I have become quite good friends with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Matthew Bingley, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Perhaps they were thinking of my well-being, rather than yours."
Jane only cried harder.
"I must conclude," said Jane through her tears, "that Mr. Bingley no longer loves me."
Although it had been a while since he had shown his face around Longbourn after meeting with the rudeness of his fair cousin Mary, William Collins eventually returned, in order to make the acquaintance of all his fair cousins, and possibly find a wife.
From the moment he arrived, he singled Jane out as the lucky women for him. She was handsome, she was pretty, she was beautiful, she was lovely, etc, etc, etc--in short, she was just the women who would make him the happiest man alive!
Although Jane was by far the favorite of Mrs. Bennet's five daughters, she aloud Mr. Collins to woe her. She loved her daughter dearly, but not as much as she loved her house. The house was to be entailed away to Mr. Collins, and Mrs. Bennet longed to enjoy the security of having a daughter married to Mr. Collins.
It was no surprises to anyone, then, that after a weeks stay at Longbourn, Mr. Collins followed Mr. Bennet into his study, where the two of them stayed for some time.
Mrs. Bennet looked quite pleased. She knew nothing of Jane's attachment with Mr. Bingley, and liked Mr. Collins very much.
Finally Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet emerged from the study. The former was quite pleased with himself, while the latter looked haggard and upset.
"Jane," Mr. Collins pronounced her name lovingly, "Your father has agreed. You need only name the day that you will make me the happiest man alive."
After Mr. Collins' startling announcement that he and Jane were engaged, the room cleared out rather quickly. Mr. Bennet escaped to his study, with his wife close at his heels (she was hoping to convince him to let them take a trip to town to buy wedding cloths). Lydia and Kitty ran off to go into the village in hopes of running into some of the officers. Mary left to practice her new piano piece, and the two "lovers", as Mr. Collins so eloquently called himself and Jane, left for a walk around Longbourn's park.
Finally Elizabeth and Ashley were left alone in the room. Ashley was still stunned. She knew somehow that this was not how it was supposed to happen. Mr. Bingley and Jane were supposed to get married.
Elizabeth sat scowling, and finally interrupted Ashley's thoughts, by saying, "It's all his fault."
"Whose fault?" Ashley asked cautiously. She already knew who Elizabeth was talking about.
"Mr. Darcy. What a despicable man!" Elizabeth cried. "He never fails to look down on anyone and everyone, and he forces the man who loves my sister, and who my sister loves to move away from her and break their engagement. I hate him."
Ashley knew that if she told Elizabeth the story Matthew had related to her, she would have to do it now. she had to acquit Mr. Darcy.
Matt eventually had to force himself to go to school. He didn't want to. He didn't want to face his friends, and, more importantly, Angie. His mother had allowed him to stay home Monday, thinking it was the divorce issue that made him need to stay home, rather than a bad date. While the divorce was weighing heavily on our hero's mind, his date folly still, for some reason, bothered him more.
Maybe it's because I don't want it to turn out like it did for my parents, Matt thought. Or maybe it's because she really hit home with that crack about Ashley.
It didn't matter what the reason was. He had to go to school either no matter what.
Elizabeth looked both amazed and perplexed after hearing the story. Could it be possible that Mr. Darcy wasn't as bad as Mr. Wickham said he was--and that Mr. Wickham was the bad one. Elizabeth cherished every bit of knowledge she had received that pointed to Mr. Darcy as an evil man, but now it looked like that information was wrong.
Ashley had told her a story that hadn't come from Mr. Darcy. It had come from Matthew Bingley, a very respectable young man who, so it always seemed, didn't lie. To make the story still more believable, it had come from a Colonel Fitzwilliam, who shared in the guardianship of Mr. Darcy's sister, and was their cousin. He was so close to the matter, and yet was not Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth had to believe what Ashley had told her was true.
Ashley, noting that Elizabeth was deep in thought, left her alone to think about what she had said. Elizabeth hadn't even noticed Ashley had left. She was still trying to force herself to hate Mr. Darcy even more, but she found she couldn't. She couldn't even hate him for taking her sister away. How was Mr. Darcy to know Jane's sentiments when even her own family hadn't known? Also, Mr. Bingley's sisters obviously had a hand in the situation. While Mr. Darcy was not altogether blameless, he could not be blamed for the entire situation.
Mr. Collins left Longbourn after two weeks. He could hardly have been expected to leave his bride-to-be, but he was the one to propose the plan. He wanted to go to Rosings Park, the home of his patron, to announce the wedding in person.
"William has the highest opinion of Lady Catherine de Bourgh," said Jane the day after Mr. Collins left them. Elizabeth had just stated the fact that she thought it was strange for the groom to leave the bride four days before the wedding. "I think it's very honorable," Jane continued. She was trying so hard to stand up for her husband-to-be. She didn't love him--she loved Mr. Bingley--but he was going to be her husband, so it didn't matter.
Mr. Darcy brought in his mail. There was a letter from his sister, and one from his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, several invitations from friends, and a rather long letter from his Aunt Catherine.
Mr. Darcy skimmed that letter over first. Usually her letters were long and boring, and she went on and on about everything. Suddenly, a paragraph caught his eye. It said:
...You remember Mr. Collins, don't you? A month ago I told him I thought he should get married. He is, as you will remember, not very handsome, so it took him quite a while, but he finally found a nice women. I hope she's not flighty, and I hope she is useful. I have no use for an idle women. She must know how to cook, and clean, as Mr. Collins income is not large enough to support a family and a maid. My Anne will not need to be useful that way, however, because she has enough money to have a hundred maids if she wanted...
Mr. Darcy gazed at the paragraph for several minutes. Miss Bennet is getting married, he realized. He felt bad for his friend, for he knew was sure Mr. Bingley still loved Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley had been restless since the day they left Hertfordshire, and the only thing he could blame it on was Miss Bennet. He's really in love Mr. Darcy realized. He was in love to, but the woman he loved didn't love him back. Mr. Darcy couldn't believe he had taken it away from a man whose love was returned.
The wedding would have made a glorious funeral. All Jane's sisters, and friends sat crying--even Mr. Bennet hid behind a handkerchief for several minutes in the middle of the ceremony.
When the clergyman asked if there was anyone who would object to the wedding, Mr. Collins smiled at his dear bride, as if to say, "No one would object to this!"
Jane looked out into the crowd, silently praying that someone would come forward, ending the nightmare. She wanted to doors to burst open, and her dear Mr. Bingley to stride in, saying, "I have an objection. I love Jane, and she loves me. The wedding cannot go on unless I'm the groom." Then it would be Mr. Bingley who married Jane, and everyone would be happy.
As it was, however, the ceremony went on, and the two were married. That day, marriage, to Jane, became a cruel joke.
Mary Bennet looked at the people around her. She was surprised to see Mr. Denny, sitting a little to her left, in the row in front of her. Suddenly, the thought of her sister marring Mr. Collins was erased from her mind. Mr. Denny she thought, as her pulse quickened. She caught her breath. Mr. Denny heard her, and turned around. Their eyes met. Each saw the admiration in each others eyes, and from that key moment on, there was an understanding between the two of them.
They loved each other.
A month and a half had passed since their removal from Netherfield, and the Bingleys' and Mr. Darcy finally began to settle down. Although he was somewhat pale, and was sometimes out of sorts, Mr. Bingley stopped talking to his friends about Miss Bennet. A casual observer would think she meant nothing to him, but his still constant attachment to her did not escape the eyes of his closest friend and his brother.
One morning, in the middle of the third week from their removal, Mr. Bingley was glancing through the news paper when Mr. Darcy dropped by for a visit. He was lead into the sitting room, where he was met with an awful sight.
Mr. Bingley was gawking at the paper, his eyes and mouth wide open, reading a certain section of the paper over again and again.
"What is it, Bingley?" exclaimed Mr. Darcy, rushing to his friend's side. Mr. Bingley could only point mutely at a section of the paper. Mr. Darcy read it aloud:
December 3, 18--
Mr. William Collins, of Hunsford and Miss Jane Bennet of Hertfordshire
Were married today from Longbourn, where the bride's family resides.
The bride's parents are Mr. Richard Bennet, and Mrs. Frances Bennet (formerly Gardener)
Mr. and Mrs. Collins will live to Hunsford, where Mr. Collins is a pastor.
Mrs. Collins has four unmarried sisters.
Lydia was jealous of Mary. Why did everyone else always have to get the good things, leaving her with their leavings? Elizabeth had Mr. Wickham (at least Lydia thought Elizabeth was in love with him, although nothing could be further from the truth), Mary had Mr. Denny, and Ashley (she thought) had Mr. Bingley.
"It's not fair," Lydia cried angrily, one day as she was stomping through the garden. Denny and Mary were inside now, reading and making eyes at each other. "Men come around because of me, but find someone else."
Kitty, who had been walking through the garden deep in thought, now saw Lydia, throwing a fit, and walked over to her.
"What's the matter, Lydia?" Kitty asked.
"Mary," Lydia exclaimed. "Mary is always the problem. I hate her. I hate her and Mr. Denny."
"I thought you loved Mr. Denny," Kitty said innocently.
"Never!" cried Lydia. "How could I love a man who was attracted to Mary. Mary is so ugly."
Kitty sighed. She thought it was sweet the way Mr. Denny was always at Longbourn with Mary. She thought it was incredibly romantic.
"I hope they get married soon and move to Spain, or somewhere far, far away. Then I shall never have to look on their faces again."
This was one point on which Kitty agreed with Lydia. "I hope they get married soon too," Kitty declared happily. She then left Lydia alone.
Could it be, thought Lydia, that Kitty isn't going along with what I say? The thought angered Lydia, so she tried not think about it.
Before she left Longbourn, Jane had a private conference with Elizabeth, and invited her to come to Kent for a month or two.
Elizabeth loved her sister dearly, but she couldn't help but think something was wrong with her, because she married Mr. Collins. Elizabeth knew Jane would be unhappy with Mr. Collins, so she agreed to visit Jane that spring, if she could bring Ashley with her. Jane agreed.
"Ashley," Elizabeth greeted her friend. Ashley had been reading in the library, and was startled by the intruding. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Ashley said she wasn't, so Elizabeth continued. "Jane just invited the two of us to visit her and Mr. Collins this spring." Here Elizabeth paused. "You are still going to be with us this spring, aren't you?" Ashley nodded. "Good. We would really miss you if you left."
Ashley was touched by this. They loved her... they really did. "I will miss you when I leave too," said Ashley knowingly. "We've really become good friends in the past few months. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for having you rescue me, rather than someone else. Imagine how different things would be if I had been rescued by Charlotte?"
Elizabeth grinned. "Yes." Here Elizabeth became thoughtful again, then said, "I have been thinking about Mr. Darcy. Could it be that he is not really as bad as I thought he was? It can't be, Ashley. I won't have it that way. Every bit of the hatred I had for him was built up in what Mr. Wickham said. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to have reason to hate him with a passion, and Mr. Wickham gave it to me. Now it's gone. I can't hate Mr. Darcy for removing Mr. Bingley. He didn't know Jane loved him. He probably thought Jane was just marring him for his money. I can't blame him for saying I was not handsome enough, because he's undoubtedly been surrounded by the most beautiful women on earth all his life. Oh Ashley! I don't even wish for a reason anymore. What's wrong with me?"
Elisbefbent.
Ashley knew Mr. Darcy was in love with Elizabeth. He told her himself. Perhaps Elizabeth will fall in love with him Ashley could only hope. Somehow she knew that Mr. Darcy was Elizabeth's destiny.
Matt's school day want as well as could be expected. Angie avoided him, which was fine with Matt. His friends didn't seem to know what happened, but most of her friends shunned him. He had turned from "Hot Matt" to "Bad Matt" in their eyes. Matt didn't mind though. He hated how girls went goo-goo for him.
The rest of the school year went the same way. He became more involved with his old friends, like Joe and Kerry, and less involved with his new friends--mostly because they didn't want to have anything to do with him.
By the end of the school year his parent's divorce was finalized. His parents were forced to share him, which angered both of them. He was with his dad Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and every other weekend, and his mom had the rest of the days.
Matt didn't' spend quite as much time at the hospital. He wanted to be there more, but he forced himself to leave early. Angie's words ran through his mind every time he looked at Ashley. How could he be in love with her, if he didn't even know her? Seeing Ashley, and knowing he couldn't love her made even looking at Ashley painful. Ashley still hadn't woken up, so it didn't' look like Matt was going to get to know he any better for a while.
And so ended Matt's sophomore year of high school.
Springtime returned to Hertfordshire. As the snow began to melt away, and the birds returned, the whole world, at least in Hertfordshire, became more beautiful than ever.
On one such beautiful day Ashley and Elizabeth went outside to see what they could find in the way of flowers, to make bouquets to decorate the house.
Both looked up in time to see Denny rounding the bend. Elizabeth looked cynical, and muttered something about "good for nothing men." She had seen the way Mr. Collins ripped apart their family, and she didn't want it to happen again.
Ashley, on the other hand smiled, and said, "I bet he asks her to marry him today."
"Already?" Elizabeth asked. She didn't want to think Ashley was actually right. She had lost one sister to the misfortune of matrimony, and she didn't want to see it happen again. She hoped she and her last three sisters would grow up, and all live in the same house, as pitiful old spinsters.
"Well," said Ashley in a low tone that implied that she had a secret piece of information no one else knew about, "They are in love."
"Love!" exclaimed Elizabeth with warmth. "Love ruins lives."
"In this case it will make two people excessively happy for the rest of their lives. You can hardly call that 'ruin,' can you?"
"It ruined Jane's life."
"But love will win in the end, Elizabeth. You can't just give up like that," cried Ashley. A tear began to fall down her cheek. If Elizabeth doesn't believe in love, she thought, she will never fall in love with Mr. Darcy.
"What are you thinking?" asked Elizabeth.
"Nothing," said Ashley abruptly. "What are you thinking about?" She asked, to move the spotlight from herself, back to Elizabeth.
"Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth thoughtfully.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was just sitting down to a lonely tea. He wished with all his heart that he had some excuse to drop by the Darcy's, but he couldn't think of anything. Fitzwilliam enjoyed being alone (at least that's what he always told himself). He enjoyed solitude so much that he wasn't married, didn't have a family, and stayed shut up in his quiet house all day.
Or maybe he did all these things because his heart had been stolen by a women who could never, and would never love him. Perhaps he liked to sit at home feeling sorry for himself. Maybe he should just go to the Darcy's and find out for himself.
"No," said he resolutely, as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I don't want to see the Darcy's; not today at least."
The good Colonel decided he wanted an excuse to visit his good friend Matthew Bingley.
"At least he understands what it's like to fall in love," said Fitzwilliam, as he thought about the countless letters he had received describing a certain Miss Norton. It appeared to Fitzwilliam that Matthew was quickly falling in love with Miss Norton.
Fitzwilliam had almost resolved to visit Matthew, when there was a sharp knock on the front door. Since Fitzwilliam didn't keep many servants, he rushed to open it himself.
Behind the door stood a short, fat, and very mean looking man. Stubble covered his greasy face, and his wild eyes were very blood shot.
"Express for Colonel Fitzwilliam," the man announced. His voice was thick and groggy.
"That's me!" Fitzwilliam exclaimed. He wondered who it was from. A thousand answers ran through his mind. What if someone was hurt, or even worse, killed!"
Georianna, his mind screamed. His heart pounded so hard against his chest, that Fitzwilliam was sure all of London could hear it.
"Are ye' gonna take it or not?" the man asked. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Fitzwilliam snatched the letter up, and all his fears disappeared when he saw the handwriting. Aunt Catherine, he thought. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, and leaned against the door frame as he let his pulse return to normal.
When he finally returned into his house, and the door was shut firmly behind him, he muttered, "I swear the first chance I get, I'll tell Georgiana how I feel."
Denny was in love, and he knew it. Since the first day he had picked Mary Bennet out of a crowd, he had known she was the one--his soul mate. Now it was time to present his feelings to the lady in question, and hope she didn't laugh in his face.
Before he left for Longbourn, Denny had made sure everything was absolutely perfect. He even bought a new set of cloths, but he knew Mary didn't go for superficial things like other girls did.
He had stood in front of the dingy, full length mirror on the back wall of his room and sized himself up. he looked awful. He hadn't gotten enough sleep all week, and it showed on his face. He wished he was handsome...at least handsome when he presented himself to Mary. Lydia had thought him quite handsome, but her opinion didn't matter to him anymore.
Denny walked into the sitting room where Mary sat alone. Mary looked up, and when she saw him, gasped, "Mr. Denny! Are you all right? You look unwell."
Denny stood across from Mary, and reached out for her hand. Before he could grasp it, however, Mary looked at him with her big brown eyes, and said, "Please, you are unwell, sit down and make your self comfortable."
Denny did so, then again reached for her hand. This time he took it in his own, and patted it lovingly. "I'm fine, Miss Mary," He said softly.
"Are you absolutely certain you are all right?" asked Mary, still unconvinced.
"I will be, if you will give me the answer I hope for."
"Answer? Was there a question."
"Indeed--,"
"What, then?"
"Mary," he pronounced the name with love and affection. "I love you, will you--"
"Yes!" cried Mary enthusiastically. "Yes," she repeated.
Denny pressed her hand to his lips, and stood abruptly. "I must go immediately and ask for your father's permission."
With that and one more loving look, Denny hurried out of the room, almost knocking Lydia over, and into Mr. Bennet's study.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had the excuse, and he now had to make his way to the Darcy's, and tell Darcy the change in plans.
As he walked, he thought about Georgiana. He hadn't known his feelings for her long, but he did know they were quite sincere. He loved her with a passion that would put Romeo and Juliet to shame.
How had he grown to love her? Since the day she was born, she had been "Little cousin Georgiana," and nothing more than that. But a few months after her sixteenth birthday, George Wickham had almost succeeded in eloping with Georgiana. Fitzwilliam, at that moment, realized that she was not a child anymore. She was a young lady. His lady. And he had almost lost her forever.
By this time Fitzwilliam had arrived at the Darcy's house. He was let into the house, and led into the sitting room where Darcy and his sister were just sitting down to tea.
"Fitzwilliam!" Darcy cried. He noticed the distressed look on his cousins face (a look caused mostly by seeing Georgiana again) "What has happened."
Fitzwilliam sighed, and handed Darcy the letter from their aunt. Darcy scanned the letter, and he to sighed in exasperation.
"So we will leave earlier than planned."
"Yes," Fitzwilliam said. "Darcy, since we are staying longer than planned, do you think it would be all right if we brought Matthew Bingley with us. Aunt Catherine gives me such a head ache, and it would be nice to have someone else around..."
Darcy nodded. "I'm sure that would be fine."
"Why can't you bring me along?" asked Georgiana. Fitzwilliam hoped that she wanted to go because he was going, but he highly doubted it.
Darcy looked at Fitzwilliam. "What do you think?" he asked.
Fitzwilliam shrugged, and tried to look casual, as though it didn't effect him one way or the other. "Fine with me," he said.
Georgiana grinned. She was happy to be going with her brother and cousin...especially now that Matthew Bingley was going. She liked being around him. He was much different than George Wickham, and he wasn't anything like her brother and cousin who barely gave her room to breath. Yes, Georgiana was rather happy about this arrangement.
Matt tossed Pride and Prejudice aside. He had almost reached Volume II in his reading to Ashley, and she still wasn't awake.
"Ashley," he whispered. "I will talk you soon, won't I?"
Shortly after Mary's wedding, Elizabeth and Ashley began their journey to Hunsford with Jane and Mr. Collins.
After arriving, it became evident that there was no love between the two, and, more over, they couldn't stand each other.
One afternoon Ashley decided to take a walk about the grounds.
"Would any of you care to join me?" Ashley asked. Everyone was sitting in the tiny parlor. Jane had been working on her knitting, Elizabeth had been reading, and Mr. Collins had been pacing about the room in an agitated manor.
"Yes!" Mr. Collins cried, jumping at the chance to leave for a little while.
As the two walked slowly along the path in silence, Mr. Collins sighed, "I should have married someone else."
Ashley turned to look on her companion with surprise. "Someone else?" she asked. "Why, Jane is perfect. She's kind and beautiful, and--"
Mr. Collins glanced at her. "She doesn't know how to cook. She doesn't know how to clean properly, and Lady Catherine doesn't like her."
"Is all that important?" Ashley asked slowly.
"Important! Perhaps, Miss Norton, I should have mentioned Lady Catherine first, for she is, by far, the most important of the three. Lady Catherine pulled me aside a few weeks ago, and told me she couldn't stand Mrs. Collins. 'Mrs. Collins is too pretty, and not at all useful. She would make a decent wife to some gentleman of no profession, but a clergyman--it's unheard of!' Those were Lady Catherine's exact words."
"What are you going to do?" Ashley asked.
Mr. Collins shook his head. "That I do not know..."
Several days later there was much fuss around Hunsford. There was an invitation from Lady Catherine herself, inviting all of them to dinner, where they would meet her long awaited nephews, niece, and a friend.
"Hurry!" Mr. Collins cried, as he rushed through the house, making sure all the women were following his orders.
"Miss Norton!" he exclaimed as Ashley emerged from her room, "I will not hear of you wearing that dress . Lady Catherine will not approve."
Meekly, Ashley walked back into her room, and changed.
Finally, when the whole party was dressed to Mr. Collins liking, they walked to Rosings, where they were met by a rather old, cross looking women.
"Good evening," she said condescendingly, as she eyed the women's outfits. "Don't just stand there, Mr. Collins," she cried crossly, "Introduce me to these ladies!"
"Oh! yes, your Ladyship, right away. This is Miss--"
"Elizabeth Bennet..." a voice behind Lady Catherine mumbled, stopping Mr. Collins mid sentence.
"Do you know this lady?" Lady Catherine said, as Mr. Darcy walked toward the little group, gazing intently on Elizabeth.
"We--ah--met in Hertfordshire," Mr. Darcy mumbled.
Elizabeth blushed under his intent gaze, but Lady Catherine didn't notice.
"Hertfordshire, ay?" she said. She glanced at Ashley. "And who is this?"
"Miss Ashley Norton," Mr. Collins said quickly, before anyone could interrupt him.
Lady Catherine only nodded, and began walking wordlessly toward the dinning room.
After they were seated, another gentleman hurried into the room. "Pleas forgive me, Lady Catherine. I was walking, and lost track of the time."
"You are forgiven, Mr. Bingley,"
Jane gazed at him. He gazed at her.
"Charles?" she asked.
"Mrs. Collins, are you acquainted with this man?" Lady Catherine asked.
"Y-yes," she stuttered.
"We were going to bring Matthew," Mr. Darcy said, watching Ashley from the corner of his eye for a reaction. "But he was detained by business."
Charles finally regained his power of speech, and said, "Yes, I was obliged to take his place."
After dinner Mr. Collins to the library, to admire Lady Catherine's many books. Soon after, Anne de Bourgh followed him. Ashley thought this was rather strange, but it gave Jane a few minutes alone, so it didn't bother her too much.
"Mr. Darcy is going to marry Anne, you know," Lady Catherine said to Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy shifted uncomfortably.
"Aunt Catherine, I--"
"You only need tell me the date, Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine said kindly.
Elizabeth pretended to be suddenly interested in smoothing her dress, so Mr. Darcy wouldn't see the expression on her face. Elizabeth had begun to look on Mr. Darcy in a friendly light. She thought he was very good to have saved his sister from Mr. Wickham, and then (in a matter of speaking) saved herself from him. She was very pleased with him for bringing Mr. Bingley to Rosings, despite the fact that he knew Jane would be there.
Now, as she thought about Mr. Darcy marring Anne de Bourgh, she felt a twinge of something besides friendship for this man. She knew beyond the shadow of the doubt that she didn't hate him. How could she, when she loved him so much?
Fitzwilliam glanced at Georgiana. She had been so quiet since he had told her Matthew was not coming to Rosings with them. Finally, Georgiana got up, and walked into the other room, and began playing the pianoforte. Fitzwilliam followed her.
"What's troubling you, Georgie?" he asked softly.
Georgiana looked up at him with innocent eyes. "Nothing," she said.
"Come now, Georgie, I know you better than that."
Georgiana stopped playing and buried her head in his shoulder. "Matthew Bingley doesn't love me," she cried.
Fitzwilliam knew that. He was sure Matthew loved that Miss Norton-women. "There, there, Georgie," he comforted her. "Do you love him?"
"I believe so," she whispered. She rose her tear stained face to look at him.
"I know what it is like to love in vain too," Fitzwilliam said. He sat down, with Georgiana still in his arms, on the piano bench.
"Who do you love?" Georgiana asked curiously.
Fitzwilliam turned away, embarrassment covered his face.
"Who is it?"
Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. "You," he murmured. He looked away, and it was sometime before he was able to look at Georgiana again. When he did, he saw her eyes brighten with happiness. "But I know you'll never love me."
"I used to dream that you loved me," Georgiana said, silencing him by putting her hand over his lips. "But I never thought it was real."
"You mean you--I thought--What about Matthew?"
Georgiana smiled. "I never cared for him like I do you. Marry me Richard Fitzwilliam!"
He grinned and took her small hand in his. "You don't even let me ask the question?"
"I didn't think you were ever going to get the words out," Georgiana said smilingly.
"I will marry you, Georgiana Darcy," he said, and a big smile covered his face.
Mr. Collins paced slowly about the library, so rapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the figure of a women standing in the doorway until she spoke.
"Mr. Collins," She said sweetly.
Mr. Collins looked at her, "Miss de Bourgh?" he said, shocked that she was actually talking to him.
Anne walked closer to him. Her thin lips curled into a smile. When she was standing close to him, she ran her weak hand down his cheek. She leaned closer to him, and slowly kissed him.
At first Mr. Collins was shocked. Anne de Bourgh... kissing him... Eventually he gave up analyzing it, and kissed her back.
"Mr. Collins, I--"
"Jane," Mr. Collins cried, tearing his lips away from Anne's.
Anne looked at her feet, and said nothing.
"How long as this been going on?" Jane cried.
"About two min--"
"Years," Anne finished.
"Oh," Jane said, walking closer to them. "Why didn't you just marry her then?"
"I--" Mr. Collins couldn't think of a reason. He only had one thing on is mind: Did Anne love him?
"Do you love her?" Jane asked accusingly.
"Yes," Anne said, "He does."
"I do?" Mr. Collins looked questioningly at Anne. She nodded. "I do."
Anne grinned, and wrapped her arms around Mr. Collins. "I love you too, Mr. Collins." she kissed him again.
Jane left the two alone. A wave of relief rushed over her. She would be released from the marriage!
Jane rushed into the sitting room, where Lady Catherine, Ashley, Elizabeth, Charles, and Mr. Darcy were all sitting in uncomfortable silence.
Lady Catherine was, perhaps, the first to notice the odd look on Jane's face. It was a cross between happiness and anger. "What is it?" Lady Catherine asked. For a moment Jane thought she saw concern pass across her face.
"My husband and I will be divorcing," she said simply.
Shock. Everyone gawked at her--including Charles, who was probably the happiest man in the world upon hearing those words.
"My ears fail me," Lady Catherine said.
"No, you heard right. I will be divorcing Mr. Collins, and he will be marring your daughter."
If Jane's first sentence shocked the room, her second left them dumbfounded.
"Married--my daughter--Mr. Collins--" Lady Catherine gazed at the ceiling. "Mrs. Jenkinson. Please take me to my room."
Those were the last real words anyone heard from Lady Catherine. The once talkative, condescending busybody had become a closed mouth nut case. She spoke, but her words were slurred and inaudible.
Soon after that evening, Jane and Mr. Collins were divorced. Jane once again found herself a single women. Husbandless, but not loveless. She still carried the torch for Charles Bingley.
After the divorce, Jane returned home to Longbourn. Charles soon followed her to Hertfordshire, and soon after that proposed marriage. Jane accepted him enthusiastically.
With Charles came Mr. Darcy. When he first arrived, he became polite and distant to everyone, including Elizabeth.
"I don't understand why he doesn't talk to me," Elizabeth confided in Ashley, one day as they walked in the garden together. "I love him. I wish there was some way for me to make him love me."
Ashley smiled. She knew Mr. Darcy loved Elizabeth with all his heart. She patted Elizabeth on the back, "Don't worry, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth laughed. "I won't , just because you tell me not to."
"If you need a reason...," Ashley grinned.
"I heard Mr. Collins married that retched Anne-women," Mrs. Bennet said, walking out to join them. "Why Jane couldn't have secured him is beyond me. Well, she will be married to a man twice his consequence, and that is my only consolation. She's lucky any man will take her, though."
"Mama," Elizabeth said softly. "I believe Mr. Bingley always loved her."
"Nonsense! He loved Ashley." Mrs. Bennet eyed Ashley with a look of contempt. "Jane is just so beautiful... Mr. Bingley couldn't help himself."
Elizabeth only shook her head. There was no convincing her mother of anything.
A few weeks past, and Jane's wedding was quickly approaching. The Bennets saw much more of Mr. Darcy during those few weeks. It made Elizabeth's heart ache. She felt his eyes on her, and wondered if it meant something.
"Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet cried one day, running to her second daughter with a panicked expression on her face. "Jane and Bingley want to take a walk, and Mr. Darcy is determined to go with them. Can I not persuade you to go along and keep that vile man company?"
Elizabeth gladly accepted. She just wanted to be with him... if only for a few moments.
Jane and Charles loitered behind Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, and soon were far behind them. Suddenly Elizabeth found herself alone with him. With Mr. Darcy...
The two walked one, wordlessly.
Finally Mr. Darcy broke the silence. "Miss Bennet, there is a matter of great importance which I must speak to you about."
Something about the way he looked at her made Elizabeth's heart hammer against her chest.
"Miss Bennet, This will not due. In vain I have struggled. My feelings will not be repressed. Miss Bennet," he looked deeply into her eyes, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
Elizabeth's eyes shone brightly. "I love you too," she whispered.
Never, in the year he had known her, had Mr. Darcy suspected a mutual affection. "You what?"
"I love you. It's not the money, nor your good looks. It's you."
Mr. Darcy smiled, and kissed Elizabeth. In a few small words, Elizabeth had made him the happiest man alive.
When Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy returned home, Mr. Darcy went immediately to Mr. Bennet's study to ask his permission, and Elizabeth hurried to tell Ashley the good news.
The weddings were beautiful. By the end of the second wedding, after Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her Fitzwilliam and kissed him, everything became very dull quickly.
The guests sat about, each thinking how incredibly dull it was.
"I long to dance," Lydia said suddenly. "Mary, will you play?"
Mary Denny sat down at the piano, and began to play. All the gentlemen in the room paired off with the ladies, leaving one lady out. Ashley sat in the corner, feeling dejected. No man had even asked her to dance! Oh! She wished Elizabeth was there to keep her company.
As Ashley sat musing about her rejection, a handsome gentleman walked in to the room. He surveyed the merriment with a smile, and scanned the crowd of dancers for one lady in particular. His face showed the fact that he couldn't find her.
He slumped in a chair. Late for the wedding. Too late for her.
Ashley looked toward the opposite side of the room, where her eyes landed on him. Her heart began to beat rapidly. him. him. him
At that moment, the gentleman looked up, and looked into her eyes. It was her. She was here. He couldn't believe his eyes.
After composing himself, he walked across the room to where she was sitting. "Would you care to dance?" he asked softly.
"I'd love to, Mr. Bingley," she said smilingly. She had longed to hear his voice for so long.
They began to dance, but something felt different. As Matthew held her hand, everything began to come back to her. Stevens Point, home, Mother, Church< i>Angie, the accident...
"I guess you'll be going home soon," Matthew said.
"What?"
"You had a far away look in you eyes."
"I want to go home," Ashley said. Tears began to line her eyes. Matthew stopped dancing, and wiped them away with his handkerchief.
"I know," he said. "You are needed there."
"How do I get there?"
Matthew smoothed her cheek with his thumb. "Just wish."
"I'll miss you," Ashley whispered.
"You'll always have me," Matthew whispered back. he kissed her cheek softly.
Ashley closed her eyes. The music began to fade into the distance.
"I love you, Ashley Norton," Matthew said. She could still feel his hand on her cheek.
"What?" Ashley murmured. Her lips were suddenly becoming heavy, and her tongue dry.
"I love you," he repeated. His voice was now almost inaudible.
"I love you too," she whispered.
"...had been the means of uniting them." Matthew tossed the book aside. Finished. through. Done. Over. He had read the last line of the last page, of the last chapter.
"Now you have to wake up, Ash," Matt whispered.
Nothing.
"I love you," he murmured. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. he looked away to hide his tears
"I love you too," Ashley whispered.
Her older sister, Kitty, had better luck. She married the handsome, rich elder brother of Mr. Hurst, and became Mrs. Edmund Hurst. They lived happily ever after in love, and a nice comfortable home.
Denny eventually quit the militia, and became a clergyman. He and his lovely wife, Mary settled happily in Brighton. They only had one child, a son, and they named him Henry, after his father.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were happily married, and had many children. Their first son, ironically enough, was named Matthew, and their first daughter, Ashley. Each day they grew more and more in love.
Jane and Charles were the love that almost never happened. That alone made them appreciate each other's company. Every time he looked at his wife, Charles was reminded about how he had almost lost her to that pompous Collins!
And how did Mr. Collins fair, you may ask? After Lady Catherine's death, which occurred shortly after Anne de Bourgh became Anne Collins, Anne inherited her large fortune. However, Anne had always been a sickly women. Without proper care, Anne grew sicker, and within a year died, leaving Mr. Collins with a large fortune and a broken heart. Mr. Collins found he could not live without his Anne, and killed himself. Mr. Collins, the rightful owner of both Rosings and Longbourn, lost everything, including his life for the women he loved.
This tragedy, however, brought much happiness to another couple. Colonel Fitzwilliam was the next in line for inheriting Rosings and, with it, Longbourn. The poor second son of an earl became rich.
And now our last couple: After Ashley woke up, her memories flooded back to her. She and Matt dated all through high school. They broke up just before they headed off to separate colleges, but both found they couldn't live without each other. Six months after graduating from college, they were married.
...and everyone lived happily ever after.