This is a "Mr Bennet dies and Elizabeth needs Mr Darcy to save the day" story - but with quite a twist. I hope you will all enjoy! (This is just a short prologue to get it started, because my plotbunnies are odd like that.)

The story is merely for pleasure and won't be a professional level of researched, though I will of course do my best.

I do not own Pride and Prejudice, but I don't need to because it ran out of copyright.

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Elizabeth sat in her favourite reading spot - a large comfortable window alcove just a short walk from the master study, usually inhabited by the lord of the house. She had a book resting in her lap but she wasn't reading. If she looked out through her window she could see the park, the warmth of spring having just dressed the grass in dots of bright, cheerful colours and the trees with green leaves.

As she sat there, thinking of everything and nothing, she was eventually interrupted by a servant, arriving with a small stack of letters. Thanking him, she looked them over. One was from Jane - she was living nearby ever since the last year, but not near enough that they saw each other every week. Elizabeth opened it eagerly. Ever since marrying Bingley nearly two and a half years ago, Jane had hoped for children, and as she had given birth to their first son just two moons ago, her letters were full of exhilarating details about motherhood and the beauty of sweet little William.

After reading Jane's letter - it was indeed full of happy little stories about her and Charles Bingley's (so far) only child - Elizabeth turned her attention to her other correspondence. Skipping Lydia's letter for now (she knew very well what it'd say and she was not in the mood) Elizabeth opened one addressed from her mother, only to find it almost completely unintelligible. Scanning over the page and not managing to catch much of it, she was relieved to spot the postscript, a tidy note in Mary's neat handwriting. Her relief didn't last beyond the first line.

"Dear Elizabeth. Kitty and I are well, but as you can see mama is in quite a state. I regret to inform you, my own sister, that our father has passed away. He suffered a fit on Sunday, and though the doctor came, there was little he could do. I am sorry to have to break such news to you in this manner.

Your sister,

Mary"

Elizabeth was not aware of crying out, but she must have, as the study door was hastily opened and the master of Pemberly was kneeling beside his wife mere moments later. "Lizzy?" Mr Darcy asked, saying her name like only he could. "Elizabeth! What has happened?"