Page 1 of When Elizabeth Said Yes

Chapter One

When Elizabeth Bennet turned down the marriage proposal from her odious cousin Mr Collins, she had no idea that the results would be so catastrophic.

Oh yes, he hurriedly became engaged to Charlotte Lucas, her longest and dearest friend. And while Lizzy tried to pretend to be happy for them, inside she was horrified. How could poor, sweet Charlotte tie herself forever to that man? Perhaps there was nothing malicious in him, but he was so officious, self-righteous, obsequious and dull. Lizzy could not imagine being his wife for all eternity.

Charlotte saw that on her face. Of course she did, and she called her out on it and made it clear that this was a good opportunity for her. But still, Lizzy felt she had dodged a bullet.

Until, that was, the very next week, when the shrieking of Mrs Bennet – not an unusual sound at Longbourn – could be heard throughout the house.

Lizzy glanced at her elder sister Jane, the true beauty of the family, as they had both been sitting in the parlour when the shrieking had commenced. Jane was doing needlework, which she did beautifully, as she did everything in life, and Lizzy was reading a book – very definitely not Fordyce's Sermons, which Mr Collins had left in order to improve their minds now he had departed.

They both listened out, expecting to hear their mother's usual screaming for Hill to put on some tea or make something to calm her nerves.

But no. This time, once their ears became attuned to the sound, they realised that she was shouting for their father.

"Mr Bennet! Oh, Mr Bennet! No! No! How could you? Mr Bennet!"

Lizzy and Jane both frowned, put down their respective book and needlework, and hurried out into the hallway. Their younger sisters, Lydia, Kitty, and Mary, were out in town, and so they were the only ones to respond to their mother.

"Mama!" Jane called, lifting her skirts and hurrying up the stairs. "Mama! Papa! What is it?"

Lizzy followed in her wake and turned to find Hill mounting the stairs behind them, wiping flour off her hands onto her apron.

"What has happened?" Lizzy called over the sound of her mother's sobbing.

They reached their parents' bedroom, knocked on the door, then pushed it open.

Lizzy's hand flew to her mouth.

"No, no," she said, hurrying forwards and grabbing her father's hand. "Papa. Papa, wake up. Come on. You must. Hill, send for the doctor immediately."

Her mother sobbed, her body hunched over the lifeless form of her husband.

"He went for a nap," Jane said, sounding dazed. "He was tired. He went to lie down. I don't..."

Although Hill had hurried away to send for the doctor at Lizzy's request, Lizzy could see that there was no point. It was too late. Her beloved father was gone, just like that, his life snuffed out in the blink of an eye, and none of them had even been aware of it happening.

"Mama," she said, tears choking her voice. "Mama, come sit. You must—"

It was then that her mother turned and looked at her with such venom in her eyes that Lizzy took a step backwards.

"You. It's your fault we are ruined. We are homeless. We have nothing – all because you thought you were too good to marry Mr Collins."

She sniffed and blinked her tear-filled eyes.

"Mama!" Jane said in shock, but that did not stop her.

"Your father's whole estate is entailed to that man, and now he is gone and you refused to keep it safe for the family. Where will we go now? Mr Bingley won't want your sister if she's living in a house in Cheapside, will he?"

Jane's face fell, and in that moment of devastating grief, their mother's words hit with even sharper precision than usual.

"I didn't intend..." Lizzy said, her voice faltering a little.

She couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe the father she had looked up to, the father who had taught her to read, to write, to do sums, who had insisted that she be taught everything she wished, even though she was only a girl... That he was gone. And that, as her mother said, meant the estate belonged to the Collinses.

This house. And what of Father's chair? Father's books...

Was it all her fault?