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In the first months my cousin spent trying his best to ensure Lizzy awoke to find his skeleton sitting beside her bed, I turned from a pale, sickly, and cross creature, probably despised by everyone, into some kind of hero, all because I acted when the time came to act. I was not yet the woman I might eventually be, but I was a woman who could hold my head up in the world and consider myself worthy; or at least, I would be once I could cross the hall from my room to Lizzy’s without making two of my Bennet sisters half-carry me. Perhaps I just missed Fitzwilliam because he did it so elegantly all by himself.

The price for my status as a woman worthy of respect was high, though I do not believe it was as dear for me as it was for Fitzwilliam. I spent three or four weeks in an extended negotiation with the Grim Reaper, and we came to an understanding that our debt was to be settled at a later date. I awoke on the fifth week to Fitzwilliam sitting in the chair beside my bed, not at all certain the reaper had not got the better of the deal. He would collect his due sooner or later, and in the meantime, his brother, Lupe, God of Pain, Grief, and Distress, could have his own amusement.

Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, was having his own negotiations with Amechania, goddess of helplessness, and I can assure you that nothing about being helpless suited Fitzwilliam Darcy in the least.

Pray, forgive the excessive mythological references. Mary was convinced Lizzy could hear us, so we had been taking turns reading to her, while Fitzwilliam and Mary both insisted that was her sort of entertainment. I could not read without my eyes going cross, so I told her stories of Fitzwilliam and Mother when we were alone.

Darcy seemed to lose a bit of himself every day, but perhaps gain something as well. By the time Mother went to the parsonage to either talk some sense into him (or more likely bludgeon him into submission) I believe he had already decided what must be done but was so addled from lack of sleep he just could not function properly. Mother returned victorious, with Lizzy, a large collection of new sisters for Georgiana and me, and an exhausted nephew. He still had enough strength to carry me across the hall before supper, and sit holding my hand while we stared at Lizzy in consternation.

It was there, sitting beside the woman who was obviously the only one he would ever truly love, that we had the very first proper conversation of our entire lives.

“Anne, I cannot even begin to express how proud I am of you. You make me proud to be your cousin, and I hope you will allow me the privilege of being your friend. I would beg to also be called your protector, but that seems backwards considering our recent history.”

I just smiled at him. Nobody had ever really taken me seriously before, nor had I seen any of his sense of humour in some time.

“I shall be pleased to call you friend, Fitzwilliam, but even more pleased when this woman wakes up and I can call you my brother.”

It took him a minute in his addled state to work out that I was operating on the basis of obscure and circular reasoning to claim a relationship that was almost entirely in his own mind. He was to be my sort of adopted brother, and he just smiled as tears ran down his face.

We sat in companionable silence, and I asked the awkward question nobody seemed willing to tackle.

“How exactly do you plan to make her yours? From what I understand, I am not even certain she likes you, and her husband might well live years, while you need an heir very soon, and apparently so does her ancestral estate.”

He might have been surprised at the depth of my knowledge of his affairs, but he did not gainsay me any of my conclusions.

“Mr Collins has surprised us before. Had he killed one of us, you would always have the noose as an option; but I cannot believe you will allow his murder, regardless of how much he deserves it, if we both survive.”

He had finished his crying for the moment, but did not bother wiping his eyes.

“The problem of Collins is not my primary concern. All the Bennets I care about are not going anywhere, regardless of what their father may do, and I only care about Longbourn because Elizabeth does.”

I nodded, so he jumped to the only real topic he was truly interested in.

“I do not know if or when I can win Elizabeth’s affection. She did not despise me by the time of the supper, but she did not precisely like me either. It is most confusing—”

“How so?”

“She absolutely detested me—with good reason I might add—right up to the time I became privy to her most private affairs through a combination of happenstance, ungentlemanly eavesdropping, and stubbornness.”

I gasped in surprise. I had not known this, nor had my sisters—nor would they, ever.

“She wanted to get rid of me as expeditiously as possible. And yet, she somehow decided the best way to drive me from the county was to trust me with her confidence. Perhaps she just needed someone completely disconnected; but in my dreams, I hope she recognised me for the man that would henceforth always be there for her, whether she ever accepted me or not.”

He paused pensively, scratching his head.

“She took me to task with a vengeance. Richard only thinks Charlotte can deliver a set-down. He has not the slightest idea. Nobody—and I mean nobody—from parents to tutors to peers, has ever done that before. Even your mother berated me more out of form than true chastisement. Elizabeth was not afraid to tell me what was wrong with my character—in some detail, I might add.”

I laughed at the image. I could well imagine it; or actually, I could not. It was just too much even for me, but I would take his word for it.

“She cannot complain about your treatment of her sisters. Nobody in the world could complain of that.”

“Do not underestimate her,” he said with a chuckle. “I fully expect to be thrashed within an inch of my life for officious interference.”

“I imagine you would be quite happy for her to open her mouth and tear your hair out with a set-down.”

He sat in complete silence for some minutes before I realised he had fallen asleep sitting there beside me. I had no idea if that was just a trick to avoid answering the truly big question of how he would survive, even to himself, but I did not mind in the least. He had been running from me for years, but was now sleeping beside me, and I had to have a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

I began to learn about Elizabeth through her sisters. The old Elizabeth would have laughed at the absurdity. The damaged but formidable creature Collins left behind would have locked herself behind an impenetrable wall that nobody could see through—with the apparent exception of my cousin, whom she did not even like. I truly thought that if she would just wake up, we could heal her. I also thought that, while I knew beyond doubt both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were too kind and honourable creatures to see to Mr Collins’ own appointment with the reaper, I considered us the best of friends at that point, and reckoned the reaper might be amenable to persuasion from me. I am not my cousin.