Here is the third and last instalment of this story. I hope you'll enjoy it! If not, well, I' hope you'll find something to enjoy next, though I'd be happy if you let me know what displeased you - just keep in mind that if you wish for me to give you some explanations, it can't be done if you comment as a guest since I don't want author's note to morph into a "let's answer the reviews" section. Of course, if you enjoyed it, I'll be happy to know what particularly pleased you! :-)

Longbourn, Friday morning

Collins had come back from Lucas Lodge, where he had also spent most of the previous day in earnest discussion with Miss Lucas. He sat at the breakfast table under Mrs Bennet's glare. She had a few of those glares for Cousin Elizabeth also, who appeared resigned. The younger girls were as they ever were, and their father observed the scene with a smile. Thinking it would do no good to keep his news silent, he took advantage of a lull in the conversation—a rare occurrence at Longbourn, as he had quickly learned—to share his tidings.

"Cousins, I do not think this will surprise you much, but I believe I owe you the civility of telling you this in advance of the rest of the neighbourhood. Miss Lucas has done me the honour of accepting my offer of marriage."

Mrs Bennet took the news harder than he had predicted and was so rude in her resentment towards Miss Lucas that Collins threatened her to throw her in the hedgerows the minute he came into his inheritance if she did not stop abusing his betrothed. He was not proud of that, but it did silence her. At that point, Mr Bennet retreated to his study with a pat on his shoulder and a whispered: "Well done, Cousin."

Though Cousin Elizabeth wished him and Miss Lucas well, he thought he could discern some disappointment in her countenance. He did not think she realised how little they were suited. Her wit was more fitted to the drawing rooms than the rectory, and though she had a good heart, she lacked wisdom yet. He wondered, once again, at the interest Mr Darcy seemed to have for her. His thoughts returned to Miss Lucas. He was not in love with her, nor she with him, but he was confident they would be happy together and congratulated himself on having found a partner whose outlook on life was similar to his, who could be a real partner in his clerical mission. And he would not need to hire a cook.

Mrs Bennet had found her voice again and was now bemoaning the fact that Netherfield had been closed and Mr Bingley extended his stay in London.

Collins had discussed first with Miss Lucas and again with Cousin Elizabeth the note Cousin Jane had received from Miss Bingley on Thursday. His cousin feared Mr Bingley's sisters and his friend would succeed in holding him back in London, the former because they expected him to find a better-connected bride than Cousin Jane, the latter because of the uncouth attitude of their family, and perhaps also because he wished Bingley to marry his own sister.

"No matter what they say," said Collins, "it is Mr Bingley's choice to make. If he were to decide against returning because of the persuasion of his sisters and his friend, that would not reflect well on him."

At that moment Cousin Elizabeth had grimaced and confessed that she had had a similar discussion with Mr Darcy while nursing Cousin Jane at Netherfield, a couple of days before his own arrival at Longbourn. Reportedly, the gentleman had argued against changing one's mind in a similar situation while Cousin Elizabeth had held the opposite side and was coming to the chagrined realisation that there had been some merit in Mr Darcy's position.

"It is good to see you less acrimonious when it comes to that gentleman, Cousin." That earned him a glare.

"If it is any consolation," he continued, "he himself had the occasion to rethink his conclusions that evening."

"What can you mean by that, Cousin?"

"It is relevant to our previous discussion. He mistook Cousin Jane's reserve for indifference, and I did share my observations regarding her character. He appeared to take them into consideration. Whether he will try to hold Mr Bingley back is, in my opinion, linked to whether he thinks having Cousin Jane's affections is worth gaining a set of embarrassing relatives."

Elizabeth cringed. "He will hold him back."

"Perhaps he will," said Collins with a shrug. "But I also believe he will not withhold any information; he will tell Mr Bingley all the evil he thinks of the match but also that I told him she was falling in love with him."

"You told him that? How did you—" Cousin Elizabeth, bewildered, shook her head. "How can you feel confident that he will not hide this to Mr Bingley?"

"You are not the only one who studies character in that family, Cousin. I simply do not draw a conclusion after one mere evening in company." She had the decency to appear embarrassed. "Keep in mind, though, that the knowledge of your sister's feelings might not be enough for Mr Bingley to come back to Hertfordshire. Once he is away from her, the memory of her charms might lose its strength in comparison to that of her family's failings."

At that Cousin Elizabeth's shoulders sagged—the day ended on a melancholy note.

Lady Catherine's town house in London, Saturday, December 21st

Collins was resting on his bed, thinking of his second stay in Hertfordshire and anticipating the journey that would take him back to Hunsford on Monday. Lady Catherine had insisted that he must lodge at her house whenever he was to be in London, declaring that it would not reflect well on her if it became known she let her parson reside in a comfortless hotel. The room must be the least agreeable guest room of the house, but it was indeed still far superior to the accommodations he would have secured by himself, thus he felt content with the arrangement. His gratitude extended to completing a table of whist or quadrille when Her Ladyship was also in residence, as was the case now. She had planned to spend a sennight in Town before Christmas to visit her brother and, on learning her parson was to depart when she did, had insisted that he travelled with her. He had wished to be back in Kent for Sunday services, but Her Ladyship had decreed he would also travel with her on his way back and that the parish could do with a sermon from a visiting clergyman that Sunday. Deciding that opposing her would not be worth the aggravation, Collins had agreed to change his plans.

Before they undertook the outward journey, he had imagined she wished for some company during the ride, for her daughter was to stay at Rosings with her companion. He had expected either cold silence or a litany of recommendations during the journey, but to his surprise, it was neither. Her Ladyship had been grudgingly polite, enquiring after his bride: what sort of person she was, who were her parents, her aunts and uncles, and whether they had already set a date for the wedding. Quite a number of suggestions were made, but none that annoyed Collins too much. He expected the return journey to be mostly the same, except that he would have more answers to give her since the week had been full of discussions with the Lucases. Charlotte did not wish to wait too long before they were married; it had been decided that the reading of the banns would begin the Sunday after Christmas, and the wedding would take place in January.

Lady Catherine had invited her brother and nephews for tea that day and had prevailed upon Collins to attend. He might not have been thrilled by this had it not allowed him to meet Mr Darcy again, for he wished to speak with him about a couple of things that had arisen while he was in Hertfordshire. The first was Mr Bingley's prolonged absence and the other Mr Wickham's campaign against Darcy.

None of those matters was suitable for a public discussion, and in any case, Mr Darcy was nigh on monopolised by his hostess. Collins nevertheless managed to make Mr Darcy understand that he had something to impart to him. As they had neither enough time nor privacy to discuss freely, Mr Darcy suggested that Collins joined him at his house on the morrow. Lady Catherine had been most seriously displeased on hearing this and, once her family had left, had complained in considerable detail on seeing that the distinction of rank was so little preserved between her parson and her nephew.

Darcy's house in London, Sunday morning

When services were over, Collins went directly to Darcy's house, where the gentlemen were to break their fast together. Once they were seated and served, the footmen retreated, and the discussion veered towards Hertfordshire. Collins wished to ask Darcy about Bingley and Wickham, while Darcy wished to know what had brought him in that part of the country in the first place.

"Do you often visit your Bennet cousins?"

"Not at all, sir. I hadn't even met them until this autumn. I had been of a mind to heal the breach that existed in the family, and your aunt pushed me to do so earlier than I had thought."

"Did she?" Darcy asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. On learning that my cousin had five daughters, she sent me to Longbourn in order to find a bride amongst them. I admit I agreed mainly in order to have some respite from her, and I suspect her motivation was similar. In the end, I indeed found a bride."

"Did you? May I offer you my congratulations?" Mr Darcy seemed ill at ease, and Collins wondered if the gentleman might have assumed his bride to be Cousin Eliza. Collins surmised that if one could not marry a young lady—and surely she and Mr Darcy moved in too different circles for him to envisage an alliance with her—one would rather not meet her every year when visiting one's aunt. Since it was a Sunday afternoon, and there was nothing else to do, he decided to have a bit of harmless fun.

"Thank you sir; though I shall not delude myself into thinking that the arrangement is something else than a partnership agreement, I believe the lady was well pleased with my attentions. I had a fair idea of what I wanted in a wife, and I had not known her long before I knew she was to be the companion of my future life."

"No less."

"I imagine you think me foolish for having determined this after only a few conversations. But she and I were of the same mind about a great deal of matters, and as I told you before, this was not a romantic arrangement, though I trust that affection will grow between us."

Mr Darcy said nothing, played with his eggs, and looked blankly at his toast.

"She is well-read and takes great care of her sisters."

"Really," said Mr Darcy faintly.

"Yes," said Mr Collins, looking at him stealthily in order to time his reply perfectly. "Charlotte truly is a treasure."

Confusion ensued, for tea went down the wrong way.

"Charlotte Lucas?" Mr Darcy said when he could breathe again; there was no mistaking the relief in his voice. "I had thought your intentions lay in another direction."

"Cousin Eliza? She had a lot to do with the match. It is because she introduced us and told me what she knew of Miss Lucas's character that I knew we would suit. Miss Lucas's reaction to my cousin's outburst the night of the ball also helped."

"Charlotte Lucas. Mrs Bennet must be disappointed."

"This, sir, is an understatement."

The gentlemen shared a smirk before Darcy renewed his congratulations, this time more sincerely, and went on.

"Before you share the information you thought I had to know, would you please tell me if all is truly well with your cousins? You told me yesterday that it was mostly so; given the company, I did not push further, but I should be grateful if you could elaborate. I cannot believe that all is calm given the circumstances."

"I doubt that descriptive would apply even at the best of times, but there is nothing dreadful, really. Mrs Bennet is deeply unhappy with me for not having offered for one of her daughters, though my young cousins do not seem to care much. I had thought that, on this visit, things would have improved, but Cousin Jane has received another note from Miss Bingley while I was at Longbourn—"

"Another note?"

"Yes, the first one was received just before I left; Miss Bingley took leave of her dear friend Jane with very pretty words, but I doubt her feelings were equally so. Anyway, that second letter rekindled Mrs Bennet's hostility towards me. She did not voice her discontent directly to me, though, and was never less than civil towards Miss Lucas."

"I wonder what could have been in that letter," said Mr Darcy as he sipped his tea.

"That I can answer, for my cousin's wife took hold of the letter before Cousin Jane could put it away. Miss Bingley, amidst flowery words"—I should take notes while they are still fresh in my memory, they could come in handy for my dealings with Lady Catherine—"informed her dear friend that none of the Netherfield party would set foot in Hertfordshire again for the winter, if ever, and hinted at a planned alliance between her brother and your sister."

At that point, Mr Darcy must have congratulated himself in his wariness while drinking tea, for the hand that held his cup had halted in time. His sips had also been smaller if Collins was any judge. He smirked before he continued.

"Anyway, while Cousin Jane is melancholy, Cousin Eliza is indignant on her behalf. She is deeply unhappy with Mr Bingley's lack of steadfastness and has also ranted about his sisters. I did bring forth your name," he said with another smirk, "but she merely shrugged and stated that she could not begrudge you for giving your friend an objective warning about the evils of being associated with her family—her words, not mine. It seems my cousin is gaining some wisdom."

"What do you mean?"

"She is not as blind to her family's faults as she was. Now, I also wished to warn you that Mr Wickham's claims of mistreatment at your hand have become known to the neighbourhood. I know it is not Cousin Eliza's doing since I heard her express doubt more than once regarding the veracity of the tales. Nevertheless, your attitude while in Meryton made it easy for the locals to trust the word of a charming militia officer over yours."

Darcy scowled. "What did he say?"

"Some pretty story about you being the evil son who denied a favoured godson the living he ought to have had. He told it to Cousin Eliza before the Netherfield ball, this is what she accused you of. She believed the story then but has begun questioning Mr Wickham's motives on realising he shared the tale with quite a number of persons when he previously told her he considered it his moral duty to keep quiet."

"I imagine you would like to hear the whole story?" Darcy said with a sigh.

"I am as curious as anyone, but I do not need to hear your side of the story to know that the man is not to be trusted."

"Still, I want you to know that the man not only did not want to take orders and refused the living but also was compensated accordingly. Moreover, he is not to be trusted with the ladies, whether they have a fortune or not."

"I see. And if I were to write this in, say, a letter to Miss Lucas, it would not be a bad thing?" On seeing Darcy hesitating, he added: "I could imply I had the information from Lady Catherine."

Darcy nodded, apparently relieved, and Collins wondered what kind of retribution he feared.

"Why Miss Lucas and not your Mr Bennet?"

"Because I may have known him for barely above one month, but I can clearly see that the man does not care about anyone but himself and is as likely to treat the information as a joke as not."

"How could it be? The man has five daughters. Has he no care for them?"

Collins could only shrug.

"I fear he would think they would only risk a broken heart, and he would joke about such a thing. He did so at Cousin Jane's expense."

"You told me that Bingley has not come back."

"Did you not know that already?"

Darcy shook his head. "Before we followed him to London, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst endeavoured to persuade me to join in their attempt to, as they put it, make their brother see reason. They thought Miss Bennet would not be a good match for him. I agreed to give him my honest opinion but have not seen him since we came back. I had some business matters that called for my attention, and when I called at Hurst's house, Bingley was out. I had thought he was back to Netherfield. Is Miss Bennet truly heartbroken?"

"It appears she is. Miss Lucas and Cousin Eliza, who know her best, certainly think so."

"Then I shall endeavour to meet him sometime next week in order to discern his feelings." Darcy sighed. "For your cousin's sake, I hope they are constant. His interest usually wanes after a couple weeks away from a young lady who has taken his fancy."

Collins nodded. "Thank you, sir. Maybe I overstep my position, but with my cousin being what he is …"

"I take no offence," Darcy answered when Collins trailed off. "I would probably be as attentive to my cousin's prospects if her mother was not likely to interpret that as the proof of an imminent betrothal."

"I should have thought her to be more subtle than that."

"Ha. That is because I am careful to not let slip anything about which to speculate. I shudder at the thought of her possible reaction when I tell her of my marriage with a lady other than Anne."

"Are you courting a young lady? I am surprised you managed to keep it a secret from your aunt. Unless this is a fairly recent occurring?"

"No, I … I have not asked the young lady for anything yet. However, the more time passes, the less I think I could do without her. She does not have the best connexions nor any fortune at all, but she has most of the qualities I had hoped to find in a wife."

"Still, you hesitate to formally court her because your family would disagree with your choice," Collins guessed as Darcy nodded. "Lady Catherine, in particular, would be displeased."

"Most seriously," sighed Darcy, "though this would be the case whomever the young lady was, as long as she was not Miss de Bourgh. Even so, I have no wish to alienate my aunt."

"Have you thought about presenting the situation in such a way that, in the end, she would believe it was her idea all along—or at least could pretend that it was so?"

"Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence."

"Even at the price of a familial rift?" Collins saw hesitation on Darcy's face and went on. "I hope you will not mind if I suggest a way of doing things that would help. You do usually go to Rosings around Easter if I recall what was said yesterday but have not committed yet for this spring. I am quite confident that Lady Catherine would rather have you bring a friend with you than forsake the visit altogether. So, are you friendly enough with a male relative of the lady to invite him to Rosings for Easter and bring the young lady along?"

Darcy did not answer but looked at Collins intently. The clergyman developed his idea. "Lady Catherine would have the opportunity to get to know the lady of your choice before being prejudiced against her and, once you put her before the accomplished fact, will rather accept your choice than risk losing face."

"The idea has some merit, but keep in mind that I have yet to ask the young lady and receive her answer, even if I doubt she would reject me. Moreover, she is not in Town yet."

Collins shrugged. "You can always conduct the entirety of your courtship at Rosings, or once you see her there, change your mind. This is why I asked you if you were friendly with her relatives. If nothing comes out of it, it would be better if there is no perceived slight."

At this Darcy sighed heavily. "I am not exactly on friendly terms with her father. And she has only sisters. Unless …"

He was now looking expectantly at Collins, who looked back at him in wonder. Realisation dawned.

"You cannot mean Cousin Eliza?"

Darcy nodded, and Collins refrained from staring. He had noticed that Darcy seemed attracted to his impertinent cousin but had not thought it could result in a proposal. It seemed he was wrong: so much the better for her—and himself.

"Her Ladyship's face on learning we were to be related by marriage would be a sight to behold," mused Collins. Darcy stifled a laugh before answering him.

"You can see how impossible it would be to engineer a way to have Miss Elizabeth Bennet reside at Rosings for a few weeks."

"Not at Rosings, but at Hunsford." Collins's voice took on a calculating tone. "Miss Lucas talked to me about inviting Cousin Eliza to Hunsford. It can easily be arranged to have her visiting before you arrive. Lady Catherine might like her, and you will have the opportunity to court her … Believe me, though she is not as hostile towards you as she once was, I doubt she will agree to marry you if you are not able to present yourself in a favourable light."

A curious glance from Darcy elicited from Collins: "She did not like you when you were in Hertfordshire. Now," he continued on seeing him frowning fleetingly, "I also think she doesn't know you; this difficulty could be easily resolved should you give yourself the trouble to make it so."

Later in Kent

The plan had gone off without a hitch. When Mr Darcy came to visit his aunt at Easter, Cousin Eliza had been at Hunsford for two weeks already. Lady Catherine had deemed her a pretty, well-mannered young lady; though her opinions were said too strongly for someone as inexperienced as her. Her Ladyship declared herself horrified by the fact she had had no governess overseeing her education. She also was put out when she realised that her nephew was already known to the parsonage party since it would deprive her of the pleasure to make the introduction in a way she found proper. After an initial visit to the Collinses and their guests, Mr Darcy was not seen much during the Holy Week, though they did see his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Collins had wondered whether it meant Darcy had changed his mind regarding Cousin Eliza. When they were ordered to Rosings for tea on Sunday, Collins had determined to observe the young people.

Darcy had seemed as attracted as ever and Elizabeth not as opposed to him, which did not mean much given from where she had started. In any case, the drawing rooms of Lady Catherine were not conducive to conversation.

The following week confirmed this impression. While Darcy was always formal whenever his aunt could observe him, he was more approachable in the drawing room of the rectory. The servants had informed their master that the young man had visited a number of times and had been alone with Cousin Eliza on at least one occasion. Elizabeth also often walked in the park, and Collins thought it was no coincidence that Darcy, according to the gossip from Rosings' servants, did the same. The lanes of Rosings Park must be more suited to a courtship than its drawing rooms, for by the end of Mr Darcy's visit, which he had extended by one week, the couple arrived in his study, asking for his blessing before Mr Bennet could give it. Cousin Eliza seemed to fear that her father would be surprised by the match, but Collins assured her that his cousin would be expecting such news since he had been in correspondence with him, sharing, amongst tales of Lady Catherine's foolishness, his impressions of his daughter and her suitor. Upon the whole, he was much pleased with him, and so was Mr Bennet.

When Darcy rode to Longbourn to ask for the gentleman's consent and blessings for their marriage, he had no reason to be dissatisfied with his reception. Mr Bennet treated him with the utmost civility and went as far as to say he was so well convinced of his daughter's discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was a very handsome thought, but the younger man had the distinct impression that his future father-in-law and his cousin had enjoyed a joke at his expense.

Subsequently

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley married Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn soon after she came home from Kent. The —shire militia had left for Brighton a couple of days before that event, but the neighbourhood did not bemoan that fact as much as it would have had Mr Bingley not come back to Netherfield for the wedding. That gentleman planned to stay the summer, which he spent courting Miss Bennet at Longbourn; they married before his lease of Netherfield ended. Mr Bingley did not renew it, however, and found a residence closer to that of his wife's favourite sister.

The only one who had been disappointed by the officers' departure was Lydia Bennet, since she had been invited to go to Brighton by the wife of their Colonel, who was her particular friend, and been denied by her mother who thought that the sister of Mrs Darcy could do better than marrying a Captain or even a Colonel and that her favourite daughter must surely be destined to become a Lady. Lydia's displeasure lasted until Mr and Mrs Gardiner offered to take her with them for the trip they were about to take in the summer. They were to go to Derbyshire, and being the first of her sisters to see Pemberley was worth losing the opportunity to flirt with countless officers. Of course, Elizabeth would actually be the first of her sisters to see the estate, but Lydia would be the one who would come back with tales to tell.

Mr Wickham disappeared from Brighton leaving a shockingly high amount of debt behind him and was never seen again. Some supposed he had met a bad end at the hands of some brother or father, some said he had gone abroad to seek his fortune. That he could have imbibed too much in one of the local taverns and lost his footing when walking along the pier when the tide was high was not an explanation that was considered*; the same could be said of the hypothesis that he thought it would be uncommonly clever, in order to escape his creditors, to cross the Channel by swimming.

Mr and Mrs Collins stayed in Kent a long time. Lady Catherine was furious when she realised they had a hand in the loss of her nephew as a son-in-law, but she merely ignored them as a result. After a while, feeling lonely since she also had alienated most of her family over the match, she approached them, and they were instrumental in the reconciliation of her ladyship with her sister's son. The correspondence was frequent between Hunsford and Pemberley, between Charlotte and Elizabeth as much as between Collins and Darcy. The latter two composed long letters full of tetrasyllabic words over the years, much to the amusement of their wives.

* This oversight can easily be explained by the fact the first Brighton pier was built in 1823.