Work Text:
At any point in the past five years Elizabeth Bennet could have convinced Charlotte Lucas not to marry Mr Collins, had she but struck upon the correct argument.
A single woman has no independence until her parents are deceased, and even at that gloomy prospect she often finds herself stripped of property by the claim of a male relative. Spinsterhood entails uncertainty, to which Charlotte considered herself ill-equipped. By comparison, a manageable husband seemed a reasonable choice.
Charlotte would, however, sensible as she was, gladly have traded the position of a wife for the position of a spinster, had that but guaranteed love.
Charlotte adores the muffled echoes of her empty home, and the fresh morning breeze through the poppy leaves outside her window. She dines with the village gentry, and daily walks the lonely pathways between the market and her home. Companionship is not everything.
When Elizabeth alights from the carriage by her door, Charlotte feels just one splash of violent emotion. Later, at tea, when she can see the question hovering by unsaid, Elizabeth's wondering, it takes all her composure not to--
She explains, instead, about her quiet joys. Elizabeth's mind, she can tell, is on other people.