The first week started well.

The three older girls stuck to the proposed schedule of self-improvement, but Mary was only interested in the pianoforte and reading Fordyce's sermons to Sam. The two younger girls, realizing becoming accomplished meant actual hard work, were not interested, and Mrs. Bennet allowed them to run wild. Mr. Bennet only asked their guest, "I thought we were paying you to turn my daughters into proper ladies?"

And then a young man called on Mary. He was Uncle Phillip's senior clerk, and a dull, but respectable, young man. Very, very dull. Mary didn't know what to think of him, but Mrs. Bennet approved whole-heartedly of getting rid of her most dull daughter, and ordered her to pursue him.

Mary, encouraged by Lizzy and Jane's advice, refused to flirt with the clerk. She was only sixteen years old, didn't even know what she wanted in a husband, and she did not want to get married before she even started her life.

Mrs. Bennet was furious with her middle daughter, Lizzy, and even Jane, and she insisted that Sam was the instigator of all this rebellion and free-thinking in the house. She made Mary's life miserable for days, wailing and fluttering about disobedient children. She insisted that Mary had to go to the assembly and secure the clerk's affections.

Sam's temper only made it through three days of this torture, and then when Mrs. Bennet's vocal range hit its upper limits, she hit hers.

"Okay, that's it. Time to earn my keep." Sam put her book down with a thunk.

Lizzy looked up at her alarmed. "What-"

"Just, don't interrupt, please," Sam whispered beseechingly to her and Jane, before squaring her shoulders and her jaw, and turning to the rest of the family. "That's enough!" she thundered in a voice designed to freeze unruly high school students in their tracks. At least working as a teacher's aide was good for something.

The shout worked - everyone froze. Mr. Bennet raised his head to look at Sam curiously, but he said nothing.

"That's enough," Sam repeated, quieter. "Mary's not going to throw herself at this young man unless she wants to, and if she does, she's going to proceed in a polite and subtle manner."

Mary threw her a thankful glance and hid behind her Italian travel diary.

"How dare you interfere-" Mrs. Bennet started, her entire being fluttering in nervous fury.

"I dare because you pay me to interfere," Sam interrupted, giving her a glare. "You're paying me to be a companion to your girls, and for goodness sakes I'm going to do my job." She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak rationally. "Did you know that a person's brain doesn't finish developing until you're twenty-four, at least?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Mrs. Bennet sniffed.

"It has to do with the fact that you're releasing your daughters into a vicious and cutthroat society when they're half that age. Fifteen! They've barely even started having periods yet and you're forcing them to look for lifelong partners!"

Every single person in the room blushed brightly and Mrs. Bennet nearly fainted on the spot. "MISS LANGFORD!" she screeched. "These things are not spoken of in polite society!"

"Why is that, madam?!" Sam challenged. "Because men talk about it in back rooms and women are supposed to remain innocent? There's another word for it that's more apt. Ignorant. You're trying to make these girls commit their minds and their bodies to another human being before they've even finished growing into their curves. Have you taught them yet what happens between a man and a woman when they're married? Have you taught them that it should only happen between a married couple? I bet you all know dozens of girls who were "compromised" because they didn't know what in the world was happening to them." She glared at Mr. and Mrs. Bennet until they looked ashamed. "I thought so." She shook her head. "I hate this time period. No one speaks of things as they really are, and even then only in vague terms. Do these girls know what happens to a woman's body when they get pregnant? Do they know what happens during childbirth? Afterwards? The twenty-four seven commitment to a tiny squalling creature that doesn't allow time for parties, balls, or putting up your hair, and that's on a good day. Do Little Miss Flirts One and Two know that if they marry an officer or the butcher's boy they'll have to cook and clean and fetch and carry, and they'll have a worse life than even a tenant because they won't even have a farm to eat off of? Have you told them that a dashing man who flirts with anything in a skirt will most likely never be faithful to his wife? That if he's a soldier and gets wounded in battle, they'll have to take care of him, too? That there will be no more ballgowns or new bonnets or feathers in their hair? Have you told them that part of the glorious lifestyle?"

The girls' eyes were as wide as saucers, and Mr. Bennet had his lips pressed together tightly. Mrs. Bennet was absolutely still. "I just want my girls to marry well," she said, in a quavering voice that spoke of oncoming tears.

Samantha took a deep breath and sighed. "I know, Mrs. Bennet. I know you mean well. But look at it this way. What sensible, respectable, young man that you approve for Jane or Lizzy would want two flirts, a socially awkward mute, and a fluttering ball of nerves in their house every single day if something happened to Mr. Bennet?" She held up a hand. "They wouldn't, is the answer. They'd move to the other side of the country and send you money over post. And what respectable man would marry a child? Unless he'd compromised her? And that only because of her aforementioned ignorance?" She raised an eyebrow. "Tell me."

Mrs. Bennet had no reply to that, she just huffed indignantly.

"I don't say this to be mean, but what are other people, your precious society, going to say if they ever see your family? What you take for high spirits in Lydia is rudeness, impropriety, and just plain bratty childishness. She's thirteen for goodness sake! Kitty is almost as bad, following her baby sister around like a sheep and giggling all the time. Mary is a calm, rational girl but she's not socially developed and she needs more time to develop her accomplishments before she can even think about entertaining suitors. Lizzy and Jane are full grown but they haven't had any experience of the world. No museums, no parks, no other parts of the world, no exposure to larger society. And then there's me. Goodness knows I need to work on everything. But one thing I refuse to be, is ignorant of what I ought to be. You want your girls to turn out fine ladies? Act like it."

"Well," Mr. Bennet said dryly, "that was quite a speech."

"And you, sir," Sam said, turning to glare at him. "You're no better. You ignore three of your own children because you don't want to put the effort into parenting them. You're the head of the household, for crying out loud, and girls ought to learn what a true gentleman is from their father. So far, their list of attributes is 'uncaring, lazy, procrastinator, an excellent reader, and insulting of his wife.' Do you want them to marry men like that?"

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow at her. "Not at all."

"Good." She folded her arms defiantly. "I've had my say, and I'm done. Send me away if you want."

"Oh, heavens no," Mr. Bennet replied mildly. "You're going to stay and turn these girls into sensible, accomplished ladies who are no longer ignorant, remember?"

Sam nodded. "All right, but Mrs. Bennet can't countermand me if she's going to be making a spectacle of herself and her children."

Mrs. Bennet huffed angrily. "I do not make a spectacle-"

"Yes, you do," Mr. Bennet interrupted. "Samantha is right. And if an untrained American child from the future can see our folly, then our neighbors and eligible husbands have been able to see it even more obviously. From this point forward, Mrs. Bennet, you are going to conduct yourself with deportment and calmness, and I will endeavor to teach my girls how to use their minds."

"And their estate books," Sam prodded.

"And manage their ledgers," Mr. Bennet added grudgingly.

"Thank you," Sam said gratefully. She knelt at Mrs. Bennet's side. "Forgive me, madam, for insulting you? I only wanted to make a point, and I know you love your daughters very much."

Mrs. Bennet patted her hand. "I forgive you dear. I know you love them like sisters and want everything to turn out right." She let out a little giggle. "You've quite shocked my nerves away."

Sam smiled and leaned up to kiss Mrs. Bennet's cheek. "Thank you."

The two younger girls began to whisper furiously. Neither of them looked happy.

"What's first on our reformation schedule, Miss Wollstonecraft?" Lizzy asked, eager to see what would happen next in the family.

Sam grinned in recognition of the famous feminist and sat back down next to Jane and Lizzy. She'd been thinking about this for days, since she'd gotten there, and even made a list of notes on her phone. She pulled it out, and consulted the screen. "First, Kitty's not going to be considered 'out' yet, for at least another two years. She's too young, and she needs to find opinions and skills of her own. Mary, you don't have to be 'out' for another year if you don't want to be."

"But we've already had her coming-out party," Mrs. Bennet said in a light wail, before promptly returning her attention to her sewing.

Sam smiled slightly. "Then she can choose if she wants to attend each gathering or not. Does that sound reasonable Mary? And in the meantime, you can practice the art of conversation and pianoforte in smaller groups, or with us. Yeah?"

Mary nodded vehemently. "I like that plan very much."

"I'm glad."

"What about me?" Kitty whined. "I want to be out in society too."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to be out, or does Lydia want you to be out?"

Kitty opened her mouth, closed it again, coughed, and then frowned. "I don't know."

"Of course you want to be out, silly!" Lydia cried, throwing her arms in the air. "Balls, and parties, and dancing!"

"And what are you going to talk about to the young men, Kitty?" Sam asked kindly.

Kitty stared at her older sisters for help. They both glanced away. She shrugged. "I don't know."

"And if someone asks you what you do for fun, what are you going to say?" Sam asked.

"Drawing?" Kitty asked uncertainly.

"That's a good talent, and something you can talk about. But what about when they're asking for performers on the pianoforte?" Sam continued. "Or to sing a song in French or Italian? Or if they ask you about the works of Michelangelo or the Dutch masters? Or the state of your tenants?"

Kitty's jaw dropped. "I don't know."

"And if a young man courts you and marries you. How are you going to balance the accounts, order the servants, organize parties, help the tenants, sew and mend the linens, and spend the evenings in company?"

Kitty shrugged again. "I don't know any of that." She suddenly let out a cry. "I'm going to be a spinster aren't I? I don't know how to do anything! No one's going to want to look at me!"

Jane moved to give her younger sister a hug.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the teen.

"Learn," Kitty sniffed, realizing she needed to get a move on with her education. "Will you help me?"

"Of course dearest," Jane said, petting her sister's hair soothingly. "We'll all help you, and we'll all learn together."

Mary nodded. "I'll help you learn the pianoforte if you'll teach me how to draw flowers."

Kitty gave her a smile.

"Well I'm not going to learn any of that," Lydia huffed indignantly. "It's all dreadfully boring, and rich ladies don't have to do anything but look pretty."

"Oh really," Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Then until you decide to grow up and be a credit to your family, you're not going anywhere except the house and the front garden, where we can keep an eye on you."

Lydia shrieked in outrage. "That's not fair!"

"We're trying to build good foundations for the rest of our lives in the public eye," Sam said severely. "If you don't want to do it, then you're never going to be allowed out in public. Simple as that. No one wants a brat at a party. Right?"

"Right," Mrs. Bennet said, suddenly realizing how spoiled her youngest daughter was. "We don't want anything to ruin our chances at the future."

Lydia, bereft of both her allies, began to pitch a fit.

"UPSTAIRS!" Mr. Bennet roared, irritated, pointing at the door. "Don't come down until you've decided to become civilized!"

Lydia stomped her way up the stairs, leaving the door gaping open, exposing all the servants in the hallway, listening. "I HATE YOU SAM!" she screamed, and the door to her and Kitty's room slammed shut.

Mr. Bennet looked at Mrs. Hill. "Could we have another pot of tea, Mrs. Hill?" he asked politely.

"Yes sir," Hill said nervously.

Sam held out a hand to stop the servants scurrying away. "Tell the girls that if they want a few life lessons in, uh, biology, they can come to me."

"Are you meaning to start a revolution?" Mr. Bennet asked, amused, as the servants hurried back to their work, whispering amongst themselves.

Sam grinned. "I'm a college-educated American woman. Yes sir."

Mr. Bennet warned the servants that the only thing they were to spread about the Bennets was the offer of Sam's to educate the young women of the community. Anything else was to stay within the walls of Longbourn.

-P-

The day of the assembly came only a few days later. Lydia refused to come out of her room. Kitty eagerly helped the older girls get dressed, and she, Sam, and Mary practiced the dances in the living room while Jane picked out the tune on the pianoforte to help them keep rhythm. Mary had almost decided to stay home, but she preferred music and people over Lydia's volatile temper, so it was a merry party of six that headed to the assembly.

As promised, Mrs. Bennet did not force Mary to accept the attentions of Uncle Phillip's clerk, and instead took the opportunity to introduce Sam to the other families as "Our dear distant cousin from America." The local young men found her interesting, due to her accent and her frank speech, and she didn't sit out a single dance.

The day after the assembly, a packet of correspondence came for Mr. Samuel Langford, from St. James' Court.

"Well?" Lizzy asked impatiently, as Sam seemed content to simply stare at the package. "Are you going to open it?" Lizzy continued.

Sam shook her head. "I can't, I'm too nervous." She let out a giggle. "Do you think nerves are contagious? I'm feeling some very strange flutterings."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "You're already assured of the patent from the future, Samantha, just open it."

Sam squinted, scowled, stuck out her tongue, opened the letter without looking at it, and held it out to Lizzy. "You read it."

Lizzy laughed at her and read the letter out loud. "To, Samuel Langford, your presentation of the shower-bath has been," Lizzy laughed, "appreciated and you have been awarded your patent."

The two young women shrieked and giggled and hugged like the eighteen-year-old girls they were, and then settled down to read the terms of the patent.

"That is...quite the return on the patent," Lizzy said, astonished. "You've turned the Ton upside down. I think it will become a fad."

"And Longbourn will be distinguished as having the first shower-bath in existence since the ancient Greeks," Sam decided.

-P-