Dear reader, you may have already read this story elsewhere, since I am still in the proces of re-posting my already finished stories. This one-shot began as a variation of the "Mr Bennet dies and Mr Collins is not around" kind. You'll see which precise subgroup at some point in the story. I planned for it to be more or less D&E-centered, and then Mrs Bennet hijacked the story. My characers are meant to be canon-ish, but as I am not The Great Jane Austen, of course they cannot be completely so. And the situation isn't either.

Lastly, I may not be able to answer all comments (especially if you review as a guest), so I'd like to thank in advance all who will leave one. :-)

Longbourn, early October 1810

The house was in uproar. Mrs Bennet's nerves had been given free rein, and when the lady was not bemoaning the loss of her husband of more than twenty years, she vilified a Mr Collins who, as the heir of the estate, was sure to come and throw them out of their home as soon as he would hear about his cousin's demise. Her daughters had given up any hopes of their mother quietening, when the unexpected happened: the solicitor who had been sent after Mr Collins came back with the news that the man had been dead for some years. He had a son, William Collins, who had attended a divinity college but was also dead following an unfortunate encounter with a potato.

Mrs Bennet thought it meant that the estate would either be divided equally between her five daughters or go to the eldest, but that hope was short-lived, for she was then informed that another heir had been identified. She was relieved, however, on learning that the gentleman, who did not care to make himself known, had no need for the house presently and would consent for his distant cousins to continue living there free of rent. Through the solicitor, an agreement was reached: the new master of Longbourn would cover most of the household expenses, while the widow would pay for her cook and upstairs maids. The carriage would still be available to the Bennet ladies, with the caveat that the horses would be used as a priority on the farm.

Mrs Bennet's portion amounted to five thousand pounds only, and she had never, until then, been taught to economise. The ladies would have to cut back on their spending habits, and once out of mourning, Mrs Bennet would neither be able to buy whatever piece of lace caught her fancy nor host as many fine parties as she did in the past; however, they would not have to alter their habits significantly. Mr Bennet's widow knew that it was the best she could hope for—actually, it was more than what she had hoped—and promptly accepted the deal. With the help of her elder daughters, she applied herself to learn how to balance her accounts during her year of mourning.

The Assembly rooms, Meryton, mid-October 1811

When the Netherfield party entered the rooms, Mrs Bennet barely spared them a glance. Yes, marrying Mr Bingley, or one of the rich friends he was sure to have, would be a fine thing for any of her girls—except for Lydia who, at barely fifteen, was a little young for marriage and had only been allowed out because Kitty wished for her company—but this was the first party she attended since she had come out of mourning. She had missed her friends, for their calls had not allowed for as much conversation as an evening in company could provide, and paying attention to them took precedence over sharing her impressions of the new neighbours. It did not prevent her from learning much about them in any case, for they were the subject of choice for conversation that night.

Mr Bingley was a very rich, very single young man from the north of England; he had come to Netherfield with his two sisters, the husband of the oldest, and a friend. Rumour had it that he was in want of a wife. On learning exactly who his friend was—twice as rich as him! The grandson of an Earl!—the room buzzed with excitement first, and then with disgust, as they were met with nothing but silent scorn by Mr Darcy. Mrs Bennet did not care, for she herself was a little vexed that her friends spoke so lengthily about these strangers when she had missed so much of the more common gossip.

Mr Darcy, meanwhile, enjoyed the evening less than Mrs Bennet—which, in spite of her annoyance, was a rather easy feat. His sister was currently residing with her aunt after he had been obliged to let her companion go. He had to find another one for her, but how was he to find a lady whom he could trust, and who would so strongly feel it would not be in her interest to cross him that she would not even try to think about it? References meant nothing: Mrs Younge's had been flawless. For what felt the twelfth time of the evening, he scowled. Bingley chose that moment to join him.

"Come, Darcy, I must have you dance!"

"I have already danced with your sisters. I am in no mood at present to do more."

"Is none of the assembled ladies handsome enough to tempt you to dance?"

"Leave me be, Bingley, and return to your partner."

"Speaking of her, she has several sisters, you know. One of them is sitting behind us and is very pretty; I shall have Miss Bennet introduce you."

"Beauty is not the main criteria upon which I decide of the pleasantness of my partner. Why do you think I should rather dance with ladies with whom I am particularly acquainted?" Darcy turned nonetheless, but all he caught was the lady's back, for she had gone further down the room, in the direction of a pair of giggling girls who must have been barely out of the schoolroom. Miss Bennet's sister talked with the pair, who then resumed their dancing in a more dignified fashion, though still with good humour—the scarcity of gentlemen had induced them to stand with each other, and they did not mind in the least. There were five Bennet daughters, Darcy thought. Perhaps his own sister could benefit from the companionship of one of the eldest, or even of the mother.

He observed them them in subsequent gatherings. Mrs Bennet was soon judged too flighty, and Miss Mary lacked empathy. Miss Bennet's beauty might make her a bad choice, for she would have to sort through her own suitors in addition to guiding Georgiana. He was willing to suspend his opinion, but according to what Bingley said, the lady may not be cynical enough for the position. As for Miss Elizabeth, she still held his attention, to Miss Bingley's great displeasure. His friend's sister had taken to tease him whenever he was looking at the young lady, which was quite often.

Elizabeth, for her part, was annoyed at his attitude. She supposed that, for a mysterious reason of his own, the gentleman was looking at her to find fault. It certainly was the truth, but it did not follow that fault was found, and contrary to what she believed, Darcy approved more and more of her.

When he learned that, although it looked like rain, Miss Bennet had travelled on horseback to join her friends for dinner, it confirmed his belief that she lacked the necessary common sense to be entrusted with his sister. One did not endanger one's health for a mere visit with friends! Miss Elizabeth was now his only hope.

That lady arrived at Netherfield the next day, out of breath and skirts muddied, while he was still at breakfast. She had evidently walked all the way from Longbourn to see to her sister, and once she was gone to tend to her, the Bingley sisters did not refrain to scorn Miss Elizabeth, remarking how blowsy her hair had become and how muddy her petticoat was. Darcy had noticed the latter and took it as further proof of Miss Bennet's impatience to see her sister. Her hair, however, had quite escaped his notice. He did notice her eyes, for though the lady had been all politeness, they had betrayed her worry. Bingley ended the discussion by lauding her devotion to her sister, and Darcy's agreement had silenced Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley. The gentleman was privately pleased with Elizabeth's apparent concern for her family. The fact she was not seen much that day, spending most of her time with the invalid, reinforced that impression.

She did join them in the living room after dinner, and though her conversation lacked some polish, he was impressed by the manner in which she articulated her thoughts and was not afraid to speak her mind. Miss Bingley, still mistaking his interest in Elizabeth for one of a romantic bent, insisted on having her share of the conversation and thus interjected into their discussion whenever she could. Unfortunately for Miss Bingley, it only served to emphasise the other lady's capacity to handle unappealing acquaintances with grace, a skill which would be most useful to his shy sister. The subsequent days did nothing to make Miss Bennet sink in Darcy's eyes, thus his course of action was set.

Saturday morning, the library in Netherfield

Miss Bingley had often been around Darcy, and it had not been until Saturday morning that he found an occasion to speak to Elizabeth far from prying ears. He was reading in the library, when the lady herself entered the room. She took a book and sat, but before she could open it, Darcy rose.

"May I have a moment of your time, Miss Bennet?"

"If you so wish," she answered, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead.

He thanked her, went to the door where a glimpse in the hall allowed him to see that the footman was far enough, and came back to his seat.

"As you know, I do have a younger sister."

Elizabeth nodded.

"I have been obligated to let her companion go this summer. We had been deceived as to her character, and my sister barely escaped a lifetime of misery as a result. Georgiana is currently residing with my aunt, but this cannot last forever, and I need to find someone to whom I can unreservedly entrust her."

"How does it relate to me, sir?"

"I do trust you."

Elizabeth did not answer at first. She frowned, paled as the realisation of what Darcy seemed to propose dawned, then reddened.

"You want me to be your sister's paid companion?"

"No! Miss Bennet, do you know who I am?"

"You are Mr Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire, and you just made me the most offensive offer ever!"

"I did not. Are you aware that we are distant relations?"

"I—pardon? Would you repeat that?"

"We are distant cousins."

Elizabeth frowned again. After some time, she looked expectantly at Mr Darcy.

"One of your forefathers was born a Darcy and changed his name upon his marriage to a Bennet daughter in order for their children to inherit the estate. The entail was created long after his time."

"You are the heir of Longbourn—well, its master?"

Mr Darcy nodded.

"I am all astonishment. Why did you not make yourself known?"

"What purpose would it have served?" he answered, shrugging. "Besides, as you did not acknowledge the connection, I assumed your family either to be in ignorance or not wishing to share our relationship."

"I believe my father might have known of our family connection, but if he had any written report it must be somewhere in his library. We have not yet finished sorting through all his papers. Why do you make yourself known now?" she insisted.

"Because I need you to understand that I propose a mutually beneficial arrangement. You would live with my sister and watch over her, while your mother and sisters will continue to live at Longbourn. If you wish, I shall even take care of all the servants' wages, which should enable your mother to entertain more easily now that she is out of mourning."

She said nothing but tilted her head on the side and continued to look at him.

"You will, naturally, be introduced as our cousin and will not lose your status as a gentlewoman."

"And I should not get paid."

"No. Your expenses will, of course, be covered, and I shall add an allowance to them."

Elizabeth frowned.

"It would be identical to the one you receive today."

"Shall I be able to visit with my family regularly?"

"You may even take Georgiana with you and visit Longbourn together." On seeing Elizabeth's shock, he added: "Your mother and sisters are our family, after all."

"May I think about it, sir?"

"Of course. Take your time; I do not plan to return to London soon."

"Thank you."

She looked at the clock and, on seeing the time, rose to attend to her sister. When she reached the door, she turned.

"Why me? Why not Jane?"

"I do not think Miss Bennet's character would allow her to be sufficiently aware of the dangers that lurk around our circles. Not all people are good, I am afraid."

She nodded, and then she was gone.

Sunday, Longbourn

Mrs Bennet had written to Elizabeth that the horses would not be available before Tuesday to bring them home, but as Jane felt well enough, the sisters had prevailed on Mr Bingley to lend them his, and they had returned home after church. Before that, Elizabeth had conveyed to Mr Darcy her acceptance of his proposition.

Mrs Bennet was displeased with their early return, alternatively expressing her fear that Jane had caught cold again while bemoaning the fact that her daughter had not had more time in Mr Bingley's company. It all stopped, however, when Elizabeth told her her news. Mrs Bennet was silent a moment, and then began to rave about the many gentlemen in whose path Elizabeth and, through her, her sisters, would be thrown.

"Mama, it will not be like that. Miss Darcy is not yet out, and, in any case, I doubt the gentlemen we shall meet will spare me a glance when she is a far better match than I shall ever be."

"I fear you are right, Lizzy. Still, what a good thing that connection to Mr Darcy is! Who would have thought it? I am so pleased—so happy. I have always liked him. Such a charming man! Perhaps Jane should do better than encouraging Mr Bingley. With her beauty and her kindness, she will be sure to catch the eye of at least a baronet!"

"I believe Jane truly likes Mr Bingley, Mama."

But Mrs Bennet, lost in her personal fantasies, did not listen anymore.

The main street in Meryton, Tuesday

Mrs Bennet's birthday was coming soon, and her daughters had decided to put their resources together to buy some ribbons to enhance one of her gowns—Lydia was the one who came up with the idea, telling her sisters that it was time that more colour entered their mother's wardrobe, especially if Mr Bingley kept his promise to hold a ball soon. Colonel Forster had married but, who knew, maybe one of the older officers would find their mother to his taste. To Meryton, therefore, the Misses Bennet went—with the exception of Mary who, after giving her sisters her contribution and expectations (neither red, nor green), went to practice her music. Kitty and Lydia also hoped to see some of the newly-arrived Militia officers; their wish soon came true. Had their elder sister not held them back, they would have run towards a young man in regimentals walking with the most handsome man they had ever seen. When he was, at last, introduced to the young ladies, the younger girls' joy was complete: Mr Wickham would soon wear the same scarlet coat as Mr Denny, his friend who had come back from London with him.

The men were exchanging pleasantries with the young ladies, when Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley entered the town. They dismounted and joined the group, but when Mr Darcy noticed Mr Wickham, they exchanged looks that puzzled Elizabeth. However, she had no leisure to think about it. In a stern voice, Mr Darcy had suggested that his cousins accomplish their errand. Mr Wickham had scurried away soon after that. Once the ribbons—of a lovely shade of blue—were chosen and bought, Mr Darcy then suggested that he and Bingley accompany the young ladies to their home. They saw no reason to decline and were soon on their way back, Kitty and Lydia skipping ahead under Jane and Mr Bingley's distracted eyes, Elizabeth walking with Mr Darcy at the rear. Once she felt confident they would not be overheard, the former spoke.

"What exactly was that display about, sir?"

"Mr Wickham," he said with a scowl, "is the reason why I want you to watch out for my sister."

She stopped. He pulled her forward.

"He convinced her, with the aid of her companion—you do remember that I told you she betrayed us—that she was in love with him and that they should elope." Elizabeth gasped, and he smiled bitterly. "I arrived before the plan was enacted, but you can understand how I should be wary to leave my sister with a stranger again."

Wednesday, Mrs Philips's drawing-room

The ladies of Longbourn had received, in the morning, a note from Mrs Bennet's sister who had invited them to a supper and cards party she was to give that evening. The invitation was gladly accepted, and in due time, the Misses Bennet found themselves at their aunt's home, listening to her exchanging gossip with their mother as if they had not seen each other for one year.

When the officers left their uncle's study and joined the ladies, every eye turned towards Mr Wickham, whose beauty and manners eclipsed those of his fellows officers. He did not, however, approach any of the young ladies but elected to sit on a sofa near Mrs Bennet. The lady was highly flattered to have been distinguished by such a charming young man. With five grown up daughters, she did not think often about her own beauty, and when she did, it was to admit that she was more ordinary now than she had been in the past, but the officer's attentions made her believe that, perhaps, her charms had not faded as much as she had feared.

Though Mr Wickham acknowledged that Mrs Bennet was a lovely lady, flirtation was not his main object in joining her. He feared Darcy would have warned his new-found cousins against him. He had never heard the name Bennet before finding himself in Hertfordshire, of this he was certain. The mother's welcome hinted at her not being aware of the encounter which had happened the day before. If he could convince Mrs Bennet that her distant relative was a scoundrel of the first order, he would then have a chance to approach the daughters and hurt Darcy in the process. After some meaningless remarks about the weather and the state of the roads, he addressed the matter.

"Would you believe that one of my former childhood friends is a guest at Netherfield? The world is decidedly small, is it not?"

Mrs Bennet conceded that it was, indeed.

"I am afraid, though, that I learned through the local gossip that he was not much liked in the neighbourhood."

"Gentlemen cannot be all as affable as Mr Bingley," said Mrs Bennet philosophically. "Why, I am certain my dear Mr Bennet might have been disliked by some of my friends because of his little jokes."

"True, but that gentleman's offences did not stop at hurting the feelings of others. Did you know that he all but forced me into my current profession by denying me a living that, in his father's will, was to be held for me?"

"I dare say that the red coat suits you better than the black," said Mrs Bennet with a titter.

"Maybe it does, but isn't rejecting the companion of his youth and denying his father's godson his rightful inheritance, purely out of jealousy, a dreadful offence?"

"It certainly is. I have never liked the gentleman much to begin with, but I didn't believe he could be so dreadful. That abominable Mr Hurst!"

"Mr Hurst? No, it is Mr Darcy I am speaking about!"

Mrs Bennet was silent for a couple heartbeats, and then—

"For shame, sir!"

Every head turned towards the pair.

"How dare you slander our cousin so? Imply he would forsake his duty and his friends?"

Mr Wickham appeared at a loss for words. Mrs Bennet suffered no such condition.

"He took such good care of us, despite us not knowing each other at all. You, sir, must have been behaving dreadfully for him to forsake you. I am sure I do not want you around my girls!"

Having said that, she rose and joined her nearest daughter. Mr Wickham wondered whether it would be better to lie low while he was part of the —shire Militia, or if he would be better off selling his commission and starting anew in another country or even another continent.

Netherfield, Tuesday 26 November

Miss Bingley's ball was unquestionably a success. Mr Darcy had asked Elizabeth to dance, and while they were going through the steps, he asked whether she or her sisters had met with Mr Wickham again.

"He was at my aunt Philips's card party last week," she said with a wry smile. "I should not be surprised if he had chosen to absent himself tonight in order to avoid my mother."

Mr Darcy threw her an incredulous glance.

"He tried to gain her pity, I think, by telling her how badly you had treated him over his inheritance. She would not hear a word against you and chastised him thoroughly. And vocally. I believe her to be your staunchest supporter."

Before Mr Darcy could answer, they were interrupted by Sir William Lucas who, pointing to Jane and Mr Bingley dancing further down the line, expressed his hope to see them soon united in matrimony, despite Mrs Bennet's lack of enthusiasm for the match. He then went on to the refreshment table, while Darcy muttered:

"I do hope Bingley will take care not to hurt my cousin."

"Oh?" Elizabeth's face fell. "Have you any reason to believe that he might?"

"I am afraid Bingley is known to fall in and out of love often. I have never seen him as caught with a lady as he is with Miss Bennet; however, I hope he will not forget her when he is back to London."

"Does he have to get back to London?"

"It would be for the best."

On seeing his partner scowl, Mr Darcy smiled. "Truly, it would. If ten days in London are enough for him to forget her, would she not be better without him on the long term?"

Looking again at her sister and Mr Bingley, Elizabeth shrugged. "I suppose you are right. Still, Jane would be utterly disappointed if such a thing happened. I believe she cares very much for your friend."

"Let us hope, then, that he will come back promptly."

London, spring 1812

Elizabeth had been living with Miss Darcy since December, and had found her a delightful charge, if a bit shy. They had been to Pemberley with Mr Darcy for some time and, on their way back, had stopped at Longbourn for one week. Mrs Bennet had doted on Georgiana, who had begun to consider her as the mother she never had. To Elizabeth's despair, Mrs Bennet had taken upon herself to share with Miss Darcy some advice about how to flirt with gentlemen and catch a husband. Georgiana had listened attentively but did not modify her deportment, choosing instead to ask Elizabeth and, later, Mrs Gardiner, about the way Society deemed acceptable when it came to drawing a suitor's interest.

In London, Miss Darcy had her own establishment, where her brother visited often, as did Elizabeth's aunt. Mr Darcy had approved of her visits, telling the cousin with whom he shared Miss Darcy's guardianship that, since Mrs Gardiner had helped shape her nieces' character, he had no worry about her influence over Georgiana. Colonel Fitzwilliam, the aforementioned cousin, also visited them regularly. The Darcy siblings, along with the Colonel, had been invited to go to Rosings to visit their aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, for Easter. Miss Darcy, having expressed the distinct wish to not go, had alternative plans made for her and Elizabeth to spend that time at Longbourn. Mr Darcy would then come to retrieve them and, before leaving, they would witness the wedding of Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet.

The former had stayed true to the latter, and they had taken their time before committing to each other. Mrs Bennet was obvious in her disappointment but, on seeing that Jane held firm to her decision, resigned herself to the match. It was not to be feared that she would endlessly intrude on the newlyweds, thus Bingley talked of extending his lease and, perhaps, buying Netherfield.

Looking back over the events, keeping Elizabeth and Georgiana away from Rosings had proven to be a good choice. Lady Catherine had not liked the fact that she had not been consulted on their decision to have a poor cousin living with her niece and had expressed her displeasure on seeing the distinction of rank blurred. She condescended to approve of Darcy's extension of an olive branch to his hitherto unknown cousins and of the fact he had given the ladies a roof, but she also said she was concerned about the likelihood of Miss Elizabeth using her arts and allurements in order to gain a more permanent position at his side.

Darcy wanted to roll his eyes at her arrogance, but he could not help feeling his conscience prickle on realising that Elizabeth was indeed a lovely young lady. He had not paid attention to her charms when he had decided that she could be a good friend for Georgiana, but now that he was frequently in her presence, he felt more and more attracted to her. He did the best to repress his feelings, though, lest she would find them inappropriate, go back to Longbourn, and send Miss Mary or Mrs Bennet in her stead.

Pemberley, summer 1812

Mrs Bennet had denied Lydia the pleasure to follow the Militia to Brighton with her friend, the wife of Colonel Forster. As compensation, the girl had been allowed to go on a tour with the Gardiners; she expected many pleasures from it. They were to stay for some time at Pemberley, where Elizabeth and Jane, respectively with her charge and new family, would also be. Mary and Kitty had stayed at Longbourn with their mother and the Gardiner children; a music master had been hired for the two of them by Mr Darcy, thus none of the sisters felt left out.

Some days after the three sisters had been reunited, the party had been sitting at breakfast when the mail arrived. Lydia had received a letter from Mrs Forster, and she eagerly opened it.

"You will never know what news Harriet has to tell," she exclaimed. "It's disappointing news—shocking news—and about a certain person that we all dislike."

Mr Wickham had left neither debts nor angry fathers in Meryton, but as it became clear from Lydia's tale, once he had been away from Mrs Bennet's sphere of influence he was not long to get back into his bad habits. Harriet Forster wrote about his end at the hands of an angry father whom Wickham had also cheated at cards; it was not certain whether the man was more angry about his daughter or his money.

To Miss Darcy's credit, she did not even blink.

The visit continued without further disturbance. By the end of the summer, Elizabeth considered Mr Darcy to be the best of men and thought that she was well on her way to being in love with him. She decided he must never know, for otherwise it would be awfully embarrassing for them both and might even drive him away. As Mr Darcy had arrived to the same conclusion for himself, the two of them were forever dancing around each other and endeavoured, if they could not be the other's lover, to be the best friend they could be. They would have lived under this status quo indefinitely had not a major change come upon them.

A couple years later

Miss Darcy had grown under her new tutelage and was now about to marry a dashing Viscount. The young man had unexpectedly become his father's heir when his three older brothers died in a series of accidents—they were very reckless young men. Georgiana had liked him before, but they had been far from having reached an understanding when he had gone into mourning. Upon his reappearance in society, the other debutantes thought Miss Darcy would be too mild and shy to be any real competition for the Viscount's hand.

They had, however, overlooked Mrs Bennet's influence. Miss Darcy remembered perfectly the advice she had been given; that she had refrained to use it when she had first heard it was merely due to her seeing no reason for doing so. Now that she had found a gentleman whom she liked and who would treat her well, she was not above using every trick in her arsenal to get what she wanted, and she got her Viscount, who seemed very pleased to have been caught by her.

As a result of this betrothal, Elizabeth prepared herself for her return to Longbourn. She was saddened at the thought of being away from Mr Darcy, but reasoned that it was the way things should be, and that she would not have the pain to be witness to his courtship of an eligible young lady—now that Miss Darcy was on the verge of matrimony, this seemed ineluctable. Elizabeth sighed and continued to fold her dresses according to the protocol established by Lady Catherine de Bourgh (she had eventually met her ladyship and received her seal of approval, as well as various and random pieces of advice).

Darcy, meanwhile, was keenly feeling the impending loss of Elizabeth. He had long ago acknowledged to himself that he loved her and did not like the thought of having to relinquish her presence. Even if, in London, they did not live under the same roof, she was still only a short ride away. Hertfordshire would seem dreadfully remote.

Georgiana was to walk with her betrothed in Hyde Park today, under the watchful eye of Elizabeth—at this point, Darcy was not certain if she thought it her mission to guard his sister from the Viscount, or the latter from the former. On a whim, he decided to join them.

The young couple walked in front of them, chatting happily. Elizabeth was silent at his side, which was not usual for her.

"Are you well, Miss Bennet?"

"Perfectly so, sir."

"Are you certain? If I recall correctly, you talk as a rule when you are walking."

She laughed before she replied.

"It is nothing but a dash of melancholy. I shall miss all this," she said with a gesture which encompassed Georgiana, the park, and himself.

"I shall miss you also," he answered.

"Are you whining?"

He scowled, and she laughed again. Darcy decided he had nothing to lose. At worst, she would go back to Longbourn, as was already planned.

"I love you. I do not want you to go. Marry me?"

She did not answer, and he was trying to come up with a stammered apology that would allow him to visit her in Longbourn with the purpose of courting her, when she gave up trying to find words and threw herself at his neck. She only paused twice while kissing him: once to tell him that she loved him back, the other time to tell him that she would marry him, which she did by special license a couple hours before Miss Darcy married her Viscount.

That Mr Darcy married Miss Bennet was far from unexpected by those who knew the pair. Many of them, including Lady Catherine de Bourgh, commented on the match by saying that they had taken their own sweet time before coming to the point and now hoped that they would not wait as long before figuring out how to beget children.

Lady Catherine's acceptance of the match had been made easier by the fact that, by the time it was formed, her own daughter had already given birth to two sons. Anne de Bourgh had married one of the few men who did not cower in front of her mother, who happened to be the beneficiary of the fine living of Hunsford, which adjoined Rosings Park.

Mrs Bennet and Lady Catherine met a couple of times a year for family occasions and never failed to condole with each other for the grief the younger generation gave them when it came to marriage. What were the young people thinking, putting happiness before status? That it worked well in the end could only be a matter of chance.

The friendship between the ladies momentarily faltered when, some years later, Colonel Fitzwilliam retired from the army and married Mrs Bennet, whom he had met often while visiting his cousin during her stays in Hertfordshire. The pretty widow was barely ten years older than he was, and the knowledge that she was unlikely to bear him any children endeared her to him, for he was too fond of his lifestyle to be willing to spare some of his income in order to provide for his children's future. Mr Darcy let them stay at Longbourn, which suited them very well as it allowed them to go occasionally to London for the Season. The former Mrs Bennet was delighted to have gained a military husband, even though he did not wear his coat anymore, especially one who was as fond of gossip as she was and was willing to bring her to London.