Launch Day & Giveaway for So Material a Change

Chapter One

Chapter Two, Part 1

Chapter Two, Part 2

Hope you enjoy! So Material a Change is NOW AVAILABLE in ebook, paperback and audiobook formats! To celebrate, I am going to give away 3 copies of (your choice) ebook or audiobook based on comments below. If you’ve commented on a previous post, I’ll include your name twice (or thrice or however many comments you left!) Winners to be announced on the Austen Variations page on Facebook on October 18th!

You can get it by clicking here: https://geni.us/SMAC

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Mr Bingley’s carriage bore them back to Longbourn early the next day. Nearly as soon as Elizabeth had settled in to being back at Longbourn, she was set upon by Mr Collins.

He at once began to expound to Elizabeth the many benefits of Rosings Park, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his position as rector, and the parsonage house at Hunsford. When she was at last able to interject, she attempted to excuse herself, but he would have none of it, remaining at her side wherever she seemed to go. Elizabeth was discomfited when, having looked to her father for one of the secret, mocking glances they liked to share in such situations, Mr Bennet merely looked away. 

Dinner was much the same, with the added degradation of Elizabeth, on several instances, catching Mr Collins leering down the bodice of her gown. The gown had a fairly high neckline, yet somehow she suddenly felt naked. 

After dinner, Mr Collins offered to read to all of the ladies and selected Fordyce’s Sermons as his reading material. He began in a slow, ponderous voice, punctuating the important passages with serious looks around the room at each of the ladies in turn. Elizabeth had great difficulty not giving way to laughter at his undue ceremony. However, she did manage to restrain herself, unlike her youngest sisters, who laughed more freely with each passing moment, finally disregarding him altogether and forming their own tête-à-tête. At this, Mr Collins grew offended and closed the book with a resounding thump. All were thus relieved when the time to retire drew close. 

Elizabeth woke in the morning feeling an inexplicable nervous dread in her stomach. An early morning walk was her custom, and one she did not intend to alter this morning, particularly as the day had dawned fair and unusually warm for the middle of November. Donning a morning gown and quickly pulling her curls into some semblance of a tidy arrangement, she quickly descended the stairs, only to find Mr Collins already in the breakfast room. 

“Good morning Mr Collins,” she greeted him. “I hope your sleep was restful?”

“Oh, indeed, it was; yes, it was, Cousin Elizabeth, and how kind of you to ask.” He rose and began to pull out a chair for her. 

She forestalled him with a raised hand. “It is my habit to partake of an early morning constitutional prior to breaking my fast. I believe it will be at least an hour before the rest of the family are down.” She smiled politely, and in it, he evidently saw an invitation. 

“I shall join you, for I believe the body is as much a temple…” And with that, he was off, expounding upon his theories of walking and exertion and the benefits of both. She had to conclude, however, that these were benefits he likely partook of but little, for he was breathless and perspiring within a few feet of the house despite Elizabeth slowing her customary pace by a substantial measure. 

Even through his panting he continued talking, gasping out his opinions on topics ranging from the views of his esteemed patroness on the subject of physical exertion, the places to promenade in Rosings Park, the splendour of Rosings Park, how greatly she would enjoy Rosings Park, how much she would fund to admire in Hunsford Village, and lastly, how she would likely wish to walk to attend the parishioners in Hunsford Village. 

Having not fully attended what he said, she startled a bit when she heard the last sentence. “Why would I be attending parishioners in Hunsford Village?”

He smiled at her, and she noticed a large piece of something brownish stuck in one of his teeth. “Why Cousin Elizabeth, naturally it is the duty of the wife of the parson to visit the sick and the needy of the parish.”

She looked at him with a flutter of panic in her breast but managed to be calm and sweet as she said, “Of course, sir, but I am not the wife of a parson.” 

With a patronising smile, he took her hands inside his own, which were curiously feminine and moist, a disgusting sensation. She struggled valiantly to keep the polite smile on her face as she attempted to tug her hands free from his, to no avail. 

“Your modesty is to your credit, my dear cousin.” He took a deep breath. “It cannot surprise you that I have come to Longbourn to select my bride. Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself thought it an excellent idea to choose from those who had called Longbourn their own ‘lo these many years. She wished that I might choose a gentlewoman, but one not brought up too high, a lady who was both modest and useful. I believe she will be very pleased with you.” 

He paused significantly and leant into her, requiring her to inhale a deep and searing whiff of his unwashed body. “Although I am loath to excite your anticipation, Lady Catherine has already indicated to me that she will herself visit you and instruct you in your new role.”

Elizabeth might have laughed were she not so actively engaged in attempting to free her hands and breathe clean air into her lungs. 

“Of course, a man in my position, having received the living of such a noble personage, must have many choices for the companion of his future life, and I cannot but think that to receive such a distinction might surprise you given your lack of means. I am fully aware, of course, that your portion is merely one thousand pounds, but please be assured, when we are married, you will never hear mention of this from me.”

At this, Elizabeth felt she must speak, and indeed wondered that she had not stopped him earlier. “Mr Collins, I thank you for the compliment of your addresses, but I fear I cannot accept.”

Mr Collins looked confused for the briefest of moments, then assurance flooded his countenance. “You must be trying to increase my ardour by giving me first a rejection when naturally you mean to accept me. I believe such is the usual practice of elegant females.”

“I assure you, sir, I certainly am not trying to do any such thing. That sort of artfulness is not an elegance to which I aspire—if indeed it could be called elegance. I thank you for the compliment of your offer, but I must decline.”

“Cousin Elizabeth…” Mr Collins spoke patiently, as one might to a small or misbehaving child. “I hold an exceedingly valuable living and will one day inherit this estate. You surely would not be so foolish as to reject me and the security I offer to you as well as your mother and sisters? You will never receive such an offer again, I assure you.”

Elizabeth was also trying to be patient. “Indeed I do reject such an offer, Mr Collins. I could not be a suitable companion for you, nor you for me. Our situation would not be felicitous.” Deciding it was likely ideal to return to the house, she turned, wrenching her hands free in the process, and began to walk quickly. 

The panting at her side told her that Mr Collins had not given up. “I assure you, madam, when I speak with your mother there will be a different outcome to this conversation.”

“If you wish to speak to my mother, I encourage you to do so, but neither she nor you can persuade me to enter into such a union. Please, I beg you to desist. Surely there are other candidates for your affections.”

Mr Collins uttered a bitter laugh. “I indeed have many candidates for my affections. However, I must also consider the wishes of Lady Catherine in my decision, and none of those other candidates, I believe, would be so favoured by her as would you.”

By then, they had reached the door, and Elizabeth quickly ran inside and up to her chambers, where she intended to wash her hands repeatedly until every bit of Mr Collins’s touch was removed. She was in the midst of her third wash when she heard her mother’s screech. “Lizzy! Get down here this instant!”

Pausing for a moment, she pressed her fingers on the spot between her eyes. Of course, her mother would wish for this. Who better than her least favourite daughter to sacrifice to such a man for the sake of having the right to remain at Longbourn? Thank heavens she knew she could always depend upon her father to save her. 

She walked slowly down the stairs, giving her mother ample time for two more deafening shrieks of “Lizzy!” as well as the audible mutter describing what an ungrateful, selfish creature she was. She first went to the sitting room, assuming she would find Mrs Bennet within, but surprisingly, her mother was in her father’s study. 

As she walked in, both of her parents looked at her, but it was Mrs Bennet who initiated the tirade. 

“You are going to walk right out there this instant and tell Mr Collins that of course you will marry him! Foolish girl! Who else do you imagine would wish to marry such a headstrong girl? You are fortunate he wishes to have you! He is all that stands between us and starving in the hedgerows, and you dare refuse him? I shall not stand for it! Turn yourself right around and get out there before he decides that he will not have you either!” With that, Mrs Bennet began to make shooing motions at Elizabeth with her handkerchief. 

Elizabeth wondered why her father did not speak up. Surely he would not wish to see her tied to such a man for all her life? She looked at him standing beside his desk, expecting to see an amused twinkle in his eye. Alarm fluttered within her as she saw the look of resignation on his countenance and the way he turned his head to avoid meeting her gaze. 

“Papa? You must know why I cannot marry Mr Collins.” 

Then her father said words she would never have imagined coming from him, looking at his shoes while he did it. “Mr Collins is a respectable man, Elizabeth. He is not vicious or cruel. The two of you will rub along well together, I believe.”

Elizabeth stared at her father with a sinking feeling. He could not mean it. Any moment now, he would surely lift his brow in his typical image of sardonic amusement, or he would tease and vex Mrs Bennet or something! Yet, he did not. 

“Sir, I beg your pardon…you do not…will you…are you in favour of this match?” At last her father looked at her, raising his head with unbearable sympathy on his face. Panic settled into Elizabeth’s chest like a large, rapidly moving butterfly trying to escape its confines, and she tightened her shawl around her shoulders, feeling a deep chill.

Mrs Bennet erupted once more in a veritable deluge of nervous effusions, the sum of which was that Elizabeth was a miserable, wretched, uncaring daughter, and she would either marry Collins or be disowned. 

Mr Bennet spoke. “Mrs Bennet, perhaps it would be best if I spoke to Elizabeth alone.”

At his words, Elizabeth began to shake, for as much as Mrs Bennet’s threats and pronouncements troubled her little, Mr Bennet’s kindness frightened her to her very soul. 

When Mrs Bennet had gone, Mr Bennet took Elizabeth’s hand, leading her to a little sofa by the fire. Elizabeth sat, clasping her hands together tightly to control her tremblings.

“A man such as Mr Collins can only improve with marriage to a witty and sensible wife. As for the estate, it will need a mistress who can guide the master and is well regarded in the neighbourhood. Under you, Elizabeth, Longbourn will become more than what it is now, but I fear if Collins has his way with it, it will descend quickly.” Mr Bennet sighed heavily. “You must marry. I could be gone tomorrow, and then what would become of you all?”

You must marry. An image of Mr Darcy’s face sprang into Elizabeth’s mind. 

Mr Bennet continued to speak. “The feelings we think are love in our youth are only a sort of infatuation, almost like an inebriation that quickly fades—”

Could I marry Mr Darcy? Does his offer yet stand? How has it come to this? Elizabeth released her hands, and smoothed them over her skirts. 

“—and what is left is a union of two people joined for the purpose of procreation and, in the case of the landed gentry, to continue a family estate. For that—”

With a deep breath, Elizabeth interjected, “Mr Darcy proposed to me, and I accepted him.” 

“Who?” Mr Bennet fell into an abrupt, stunned silence. 

“Mr Darcy has made me an offer of marriage, and I have…I accepted him. Mr Darcy has not spoken to you yet to obtain your consent, so naturally I could not tell Mama or Mr Collins.”

For several long moments, there was no sound save for the loud tick of the mantel clock. “Mr Darcy?”

Elizabeth nodded, trying to look happy. 

“The same Mr Darcy who slighted and insulted you at the recent assembly?”

“He apologised for that,” Elizabeth explained hurriedly, looking down at her hands. 

Mr Bennet again said nothing, simply looking at her intently and thoughtfully for several long minutes. Finally, tentatively, he asked, “While you and Jane were at Netherfield, did anything…I mean, was there any sort of…sometimes a gentleman will…”

“He did nothing of that nature, I assure you. He was a perfect gentleman.” Elizabeth looked at her father in exasperation. 

“Of course,” her father demurred quickly. “You do realise how wealthy, how great, Mr Darcy is, do you not?”

“I do.”

“I would not have you so tempted by such things that you overlook the fact that he is a proud and disagreeable man. Do you really wish to be bound to such a man? Fortune can only compensate for so much, Lizzy.”

The irony of such concern was not lost on her. Her father would object to her marrying Mr Darcy for prudence’s sake but would see her bound to Mr Collins for the same? Looking into her father’s eyes, so like her own, she had a peculiar sense of never having known him before. 

In carefully neutral tones, she said, “Is not prudence the reason you wish me to marry Mr Collins?”

Mr Bennet removed his glasses and rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly. “Well, yes.” 

“So, if I am being prudent, will not Mr Darcy do as well as Mr Collins?” Elizabeth tilted her chin defiantly. “Although he does not have Longbourn, it seems Pemberley will do for those of us left behind when you are gone.” 

“You are determined to have him then. I daresay there is nothing for me but to await his conference.” Mr Bennet rose and went to his study door, opening it. “Mrs Bennet?” he called. She appeared in a moment, looking down her nose at her daughter, prepared to crow her triumph. 

“Elizabeth will not marry Mr Collins. She has my full support in this matter.”

Elizabeth fled to her chambers, a headache pulsing at her temples, leaving her mother wailing behind her.