Title: Dare to Refuse Such a Man
Rating: K+ (PG) – because I can't think of anything at this point which would constitute a higher rating. Should be sweet and clean.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency
Apologies: So sorry for the delayed update, but my grandmother passed away last Friday, May 1 (not from COVID-19, thank God) and, as this chapter was not post-ready when I got the news, it just had to wait. I appreciate your understanding. Normally I'm further ahead of myself than this so updates aren't delayed, but in writing this story and AHA at the same time I tripped myself up. Entirely my fault on that score. In future, if I miss an update, please check my profile page; there's likely to be an explanation there.

Summary: It had never occurred to Fitzwilliam Darcy that, once he had chosen a bride, her father might dare to refuse his consent. However, a woman worthy of being pleased is also worth fighting for. DE, Regency, clean romance.

"He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask."

Mr Bennet, Pride and Prejudice Volume III, Chapter 17

Chapter Twenty-One

Saturday
October 19, 1811
half past nine in the morning

Elizabeth sat upon the edge of her bed, her body still wracked with the occasional hiccup from her only recently abated tears, and stared in wonder at the open doorway through which her mother had just exited. The past hour in Mama's company, upon reflection, had been a surreal experience for the second Bennet daughter who was unused to achieving such full support of her more flighty, nervous parent. For the first time in Elizabeth's recollection, both she and her mother were united on the same front and bent on a common purpose: to marry Elizabeth to Mr Darcy.

Quite to the contrary, Mama had almost always seemed more vexed with than approving of her second child. There had even been moments in Elizabeth's early youth that she had suspected that Mama did not like her at all, much less loved her as well as she seemed to love her sisters. Jane had been favored from birth for her beauty, Lydia for her vivacity and both Mary and Kitty had achieved some semblance of approbation from Mama for their ladylike pursuits, but Elizabeth had always felt like the odd duck amongst the females of her family. Young ladies were not supposed to be witty or adventurous or clever, so said Mama, but rather pretty, demure and agreeable. Elizabeth, who had ever been a rambunctious tomboy, had struggled to act in the manner which her mother had deemed appropriate for someone of her sex and so there had been numerous arguments betwixt them on the subject of female deportment. Because of the tempestuous nature of the relationship shared with Mama, Papa's steady affection had been a balm to Elizabeth. Now, it seemed, there was a price to pay for that loyalty.

When Elizabeth had come out at fifteen – very much against her will as Elizabeth had not yet learnt to appreciate the attentions of a gentlemen over climbing trees, or sitting still at her sewing to running free through the fields – it seemed as if the bond between mother and child would be irreparably broken, such was the vehemence on each side. As Papa had determined on this occasion that he would allow his wife to have her way, Elizabeth had found herself thrust into country society with little more than a by your leave and found that she was expected to somehow capture herself a husband with an alarming quickness. Upon this realization, Elizabeth, in her adolescent wisdom, had declared that she would never marry at all if she was to be required to behave in a manner unlike herself. Mama had screeched back, with little more maturity, that she was certain it would be so as no gentleman would want a sharp-tongued hoyden for his wife. And so it had gone for the better part of a year afterward with no unnecessary words spoken between mother and daughter.

Just after Elizabeth had turned sixteen, however, the paradigm had shifted once again. It had been upon the occasion of a local assembly, not unlike the one she had attended recently, that Elizabeth had suffered a mortifying insult from a former childhood playmate. "I will not ask Lizzy to dance," had sneered Samuel Golding to a group of other local youths, his piggy little eyes laughingly contemptuous as he leered directly at her budding bosom, "for I am not sure at all that she is quite a lady."

Elizabeth, being at that uncomfortable age which placed her between girlhood and womanhood, had been severely wounded by her former playmate's snide insult. She had done her best to laugh it off, but her open temperament had never been disposed toward disguise of any sort and she had hidden her wounded ego poorly, as proven by the renewed laughter at her expense. Honestly, Elizabeth might have been able to forgive his pride had he not so deeply mortified hers. When Elizabeth had sat out the next set to compose herself lest her threatening tears actually come to the fore and embarrass her further, Mama had come over to scold her for not putting herself forward. Midway through her rant, Mama had stuttered to a halt when she had seen the evidence of distress on her child's face. Mama had then wrenched the story out of Elizabeth and her wrath had been unleashed.

Mama had not spoken to Mrs Golding for a month after Samuel had snubbed Elizabeth. More than that, she had visibly cut each member of the family whenever their paths had crossed thereafter, which had done much to lower the Goldings' social position in the neighborhood. Mama was silly and her company often irksome, but, as the wife of the principal landowner in the area, Mrs Frances Bennet was still the highest ranking matron in their little corner of Hertfordshire (at least until Sir William had been knighted and Mrs Lucas had been elevated to Lady Lucas, but that had not occurred until two years later). Added to this, there was suddenly an abundance of rumors which suggested Samuel had disdained Elizabeth's company because of unnatural tendencies and that he would not be able to spot a lady should one fall into his lap.

It had all been a silly, petulant display on Mama's part and Elizabeth had been greatly embarrassed by it at the time, but Mama had insisted that she would tolerate no such disrespect of one of her children.

"I beg you would not put it into your head to be vexed by Samuel Golding's ill-treatment, Lizzy," Mama had said, her asperity a reflection of Elizabeth's own, "for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. You have nothing to be ashamed of; hold your head high and show them all the great beauty he has disdained. Another time, I would not dance with him if I were you; he does not deserve such attention."

It had been less what Mama had said and more the way she had said it that had implied the deep wounding felt by Samuel Golding's callous words; not for vanity's sake, but because she could not bear the thought of anyone thinking Elizabeth unworthy of their attention. Her willingness to disdain a potential suitor for the sake of principal had said much.

Only once an apology and a resentful dance offer – one which had been refused, per Mama's instruction – had been forthcoming from the guilty party had Mama deigned to recognize the Goldings again and only then with frosty reluctance thereafter. The rumors had almost immediately dissipated into nothing, Samuel had married a lady more to his tastes and life in Meryton had resumed its former course.

Ever since then Elizabeth had been more forgiving of her mother's complaints and criticisms, recognizing that they truly did come from a desire to help as Jane had always insisted. Her goals had never been the same as Elizabeth's – namely marriage for the sake of convenience rather than abiding love and respect for one's partner – but Mama wanted the best future she could envision for each of her daughters. To Mrs Frances Bennet, that meant a comfortable home at all costs; affection was a secondary concern. Now that Elizabeth had fallen in love with William, their seemingly opposite objectives were intersected and it seemed that they both, against all odds, might achieve what their greatest desires. Assuming, of course, Papa could be somehow convinced.

Elizabeth startled when she felt a hand tentatively descend upon her shoulder. Looking away from the open doorway for the first time in several minutes, she turned her gaze to where Jane stood just to her left, hovering close with a worried wrinkle etched into her forehead. "Are you well, Lizzy?"

Reaching up with both palms to swipe the remaining moisture from her cheeks, Elizabeth feigned a laugh only to have it disrupted by another hiccup. Rubbing the final teardrop from the point of her chin with the back of one hand, she replied, a little shakily, "Yes, I am fine now. I do not know what came over me…"

"You were overwrought, dearest," Jane said, folding at the knees so that she could sit in the spot next to her sister their mother had vacated. She reached an arm around Elizabeth and pulled her tightly in for a hug. "And I cannot blame you. It is not like Papa to behave so cruelly...and poor Mr Darcy! He must be so disappointed."

"Yes, I am sure that he is." Elizabeth sighed and tilted her head to the side so that it could rest upon Jane's nearest shoulder. "And I do not know what to do. Mama says she has a plan, but what could she be thinking? If Papa has not relented by now..." She left the troubling thought unsaid.

"Maybe she hopes to convince him somehow?"

"I cannot think how. If a compromise and an outright declaration of intention to marry are not enough to sway Papa, it boggles the mind to think of what sort of argument Mama could concoct to make him see reason." Elizabeth was not normally inclined to be so dispirited, but after so many weeks together of being despondent over her lost love, then recovering it for a brief, shining moment only to have it snatched away from her again, some of her natural optimism was beginning to fade. Her future was entirely uncertain at the present and Elizabeth could not fathom where to go from here.

Jane was silent for a long moment. "I am sure she has some idea of what to do..."

"Mmm."

"Girls!" Jane and Elizabeth returned their attention to the open doorway where their mother stood, now fully dressed in one of her most outlandishly lace-ridden frocks, with her fists planted at the crests of her hips. She was looking at them both with wide eyes, a furrowed brow and flaring nostrils, her irritation apparent. "What are you doing, still sitting there? Did I not tell you to get yourselves ready for an outing? Go on! Get up, get up – put on one of your best daygowns and be quick about it! The carriage will be ready any minute and your sisters are nearly ready."

Aside from taking a moment to exchange a hesitant look with one another, the eldest Bennet sisters replied "Yes, Mama" in a synchronized chorus and stood to do as bidden. Jane left to attend to the final details of her toilette – nearly completed before the uproar in the household had distracted her from it – in her own chambers and Elizabeth went directly to her wash basin to splash cool water upon her swollen, tear-streaked face.

"Good, good – Elizabeth, put on your green frock – no, the pink – and be downstairs in a quarter hour," was Mama's last direction before she swirled from the room, her handkerchief flailing about her head in a nervous tizzy. "Lydia! Kitty! Mary! Hill!"

Elizabeth smiled wanly at her mother's antics over the bit of toweling she used to dry her face. Regardless of what her plan entailed, Mama would certainly make sure that Papa took notice. She was very much accustomed to having her own way.

o0o

quarter to eleven o'clock in the morning

"Straighten up, Lydia! Do not lollop about like that, it is not becoming of a young lady." Mama admonished her youngest with a swat on the knee from her fan. "And do stop that yawning."

"I cannot help it!" whined Lydia, though she sat up straighter in her seat. A little. "Why are we going to Aunt Philips so early?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the passing scenery as the family carriage trundled along the lane toward Meryton with a coterie of Bennet ladies inside. All of the sisters save one – Mary, who had been successfully overlooked by Mama by darting into the music room, was the only absentee – were on board for this little journey. They were, according to Mama, headed to their Aunt Philips' residence to enact her grand plan of forcing Papa to allow the engagement between herself and William – or The Great Bennet War, as Elizabeth had come to consider it since her mother had marshaled her girls together as combatants against their father. Mama would be an able general, if given the chance. Especially if her battle plans had any merit.

"Because we require her assistance, that's why," Mama replied, snapping her fan next at Kitty who had dared to cough. Ignoring the sour look of affront on her second youngest's face, Mama continued, "If Lizzy is to marry Mr Darcy, we will need to convince your Papa that there is no other choice in the matter. My Sister Philips will help us make sure of that."

"How?" Kitty asked somewhat peevishly, posing the question for all of them.

Mama sighed and shook her head as if the answer were obvious. To her, it very probably was. "Why, once the proposal is announced to the village, Mr Bennet will be forced to relent. To break an established betrothal is just not done! The scandal would be too great."

"But…," Jane's gentle voice interjected next, laced with confusion and concern, "if Papa has refused his consent, then Lizzy is not actually engaged to Mr Darcy, is she?"

"Pish! As if that matters." Mama waved her hand at Jane as if to shoo the notion of parental consent away.

Jane's eyes widened, scandalized. "But it is untrue!"

"What is so untrue about it? Mr Darcy proposed to Lizzy and she accepted him. Everything else is just an insignificant detail. Besides, Lizzy has already been compromised and an engagement must be announced or we are all ruined." Mama leaned forward slightly to glance out the window beside Elizabeth, visibly unconcerned with the affront expressed by her eldest. "We should be there any minute, girls. We must all look presentable – Lydia, my love, straighten your bonnet. Lizzy, be sure to hold your head up high. Remember, you are to be married!"

Elizabeth herself was uncomfortable with the disguise her mother was eager to perpetuate, but she was not about to allow an "insignificant detail" to keep her and William apart. If Papa insisted upon being unreasonable and denying his permission for them to wed, then Elizabeth must be prepared to do whatever was required to change his mind. If it angered him or caused a rift between them...well, it would be on his conscience, not hers.

Jane, who had never willfully told a lie in her life that had not been intended as a kindness, still looked uncomfortable that they were all involved in a plot to undermine their father and speak something which was, technically, untrue. Elizabeth reached between them and squeezed her elder sister's hand in a soothing gesture. "I am sorry to involve you in this, Jane, but I cannot do nothing and allow Papa his way. I cannot...I will not renege on my promise to William. If I must let people believe a little falsehood which harms no one to marry the man of my choice, then I will do that. My only regret is that I have involved you and others who would otherwise be innocent in the scheme. Forgive me?"

From across the carriage on the opposite bench, Kitty sighed and pressed a hand to her heart as she cooed, "How romantic!" Lydia, by contrast, looked unimpressed as she stifled another yawn.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane squeezed back and her face softened into a smile full of warmth, "of course you must do this. Forgive me for not being supportive; of course I will help in any way I can. I only wish there was another way."

Elizabeth, thinking of the implacable glower on her formerly dear Papa's face, sighed and bowed her head. "As do I, dearest."

"Yes, yes, it is all very unfortunate," said Mama, seated between Kitty and Lydia and fanning herself. Lydia, seated to her right, leaned away lest she be swatted in the face by each rapid downswing. "But your father will be stubborn. Well, we shall see who has the last laugh!"

The carriage stopped out front of the Philips' house with a little jerk. While the ladies within awaited the coachman to descend and hand them out, Mama adjusted something or other on each of them to her satisfaction. Lydia's bonnet was straightened, a smudge was wiped from Kitty's face by a vigorously applied handkerchief, Jane's skirt was fluffed and Elizabeth's bodice was tugged down (and then back up again when Mama turned away). Once the door opened and the steps lowered for their use, Mama exited their equipage with her head held high as if she were the empress of all she beheld. The girls followed her out in order of precedence – first Jane, then Elizabeth, Kitty and Lydia – and she approached the Philips' door with a self assured stride.

As they waited for the servants within to respond to Mama's jangle of the doorbell, Elizabeth became aware of a cloud of whispers descending upon them from all sides like a fog rolling in. She glanced about and discovered that the people in the street, the workers in their shops and even several residents hanging out of their upper floor windows were all staring at the gaggle of Bennets upon the Philips' doorstep, hands cupped around their mouths as they hissed back and forth between one another. Elizabeth averted her face and ducked her head just as the housekeeper answered.

"Come right on up, Mrs Bennet. Mrs Philips thought you might be coming by this morning," said Mrs Winthrop as she looked at each of them with her beady, hungry eyes. When they fastened on Elizabeth, Mrs Winthrop grinned for a moment before straightening her expression into one slightly more neutral (but only slightly).

They followed the housekeeper up the stairs to where their aunt's preferred parlor was located, the one which afforded the best view of the street outside and the comings and goings of her neighbors. Mrs Winthrop opened the door, ushered the Bennets inside and then hustled off upon the standing orders of her mistress to fetch tea for guests.

"My dears!" cried Aunt Philips as they entered. She flew toward them and began giving out rounds of kisses, one bump to each fresh cheek with her own withering jowl, and the interrogation began. With both her hands lingering upon Elizabeth's shoulders, Aunt Philips cried, "It is all over town! Lizzy, my love, you have made quite the conquest – such a scene! It will be talked of for years, I am absolutely certain. Tell me, had you met Mr Darcy before? You never mentioned such a gentleman!"

Elizabeth, though used to her aunt's ways, felt discomfited to be upon the receiving end of her manic glee. Aunt Philips loved nothing more than a scandal. "Er, yes, over the summer..."

"Oh, Sister!" Mama inserted herself between Aunt Philips and Elizabeth with enthusiasm spilling freely from her. She slipped her arm through Aunt Philips' and tugged her toward their favored sofa. As they sank into the cushions, Mama continued, with as much drama as she could muster, "It is such a tale! Can you believe it? It is something out of a novel!"

The Bennet sisters, quite accustomed to being greeted and then forgotten by their silly aunt in this manner, broke apart and settled in different chairs around the central tea table as their mother regaled Aunt Philips of Elizabeth's and William's great love story. Aunt Philips, for her part, was eager to hear it. "Tell me everything!"

"Well, as you know, our Lizzy spent the summer in Derbyshire with the Gardiners." Aunt Philips nodded along as her sister spoke, confirming that she had known this much already. "While she was there, she caught Mr Darcy's eye and they fell in love. However, Mr Bennet – such a high handed, vexing man – brought Lizzy home before Mr Darcy had the chance to propose. And what do you think he did next?" Mama paused for dramatic effect and Aunt Philips leaned in closer with undisguised hunger. "Mr Darcy followed our dear, sweet girl all the way to Hertfordshire after searching high and low for her for weeks! Have you ever heard anything so romantic in your life? When he saw her at the assembly, he simply could not help himself and kissed her in front of everyone!"

Aunt Philips pressed her hand to her chest where her heart would be, visibly aflutter at the story she was being told. "My goodness! Very romantic, indeed...and has Mr Darcy now had the chance to propose?"

"Just this morning, Sister," Mama assured her, her spine straightening with pride. "And, naturally, Lizzy has accepted him."

"Marvelous! I knew that display could not be for nothing..."

"Oh, but Sister…," Mama leaned closer to Aunt Philips, her voice lowered to a whisper which could still be heard about the room. At least only the concerned parties were around to hear it. "Mr Bennet has denied his consent to the match."

"No!"

"Indeed he has! But, as I was telling Lizzy and my other girls, he shall not get away with it, no he shall not." Mama sat up straight upon her cushion again and shook her head wildly from side to side, her lace cap flapping about her ears. "And so, I have devised a plan which you can help me with."

Aunt Philips, further enraptured by the promise of intrigue, practically bounced with anticipation. "I shall do what I can, Sister."

"It occurs to me that, if the engagement should be known around the village, Mr Bennet will be forced to relent and allow them to wed. She cannot marry Mr Collins if all of Meryton are expecting her to marry Mr Darcy."

Her brow scrunching in confusion, Aunt Philips queried, "Mr Collins?"

"Oh," Mama huffed with clear exasperation and waved her handkerchief about, "Mr Bennet has decided that Lizzy shall marry him without consulting anyone – you remember Mr Collins, surely? The devil who will roust us from our home as soon as my husband is dead and buried?" As comprehension dawned upon her sister's face, Mama continued, "Yes, him. Mr Bennet has some grand scheme to marry Lizzy off to Mr Collins and pass Longbourn on to her. A good notion, I am sure, but not with a spectacular catch like Mr Darcy at hand! No, no, Mr Collins may marry one of the other girls – not Jane, of course, but perhaps Mary? I understand that Mr Collins has become a parson and she would like that. It does not signify in any case; Lizzy's match will throw the girls in the paths of other rich men and we will have no need of Mr Collins at all."

Aunt Philips was suitably aghast. "What could Mr Bennet be thinking?"

"I cannot understand it, myself. Who in their right mind would prefer Mr Collins to Mr Darcy? Ten thousand a year, Sister, and very likely more! What is Longbourn to that, pray?" Mrs Bennet's indignation at her husband's foolishness was again riled and she harrumphed.

"Never fear, Sister," soothed Aunt Philips, patting Mama upon the hand. "I know just what we shall do..."

What few realized about Mrs Henrietta Philips – known colloquially as "the clucking hen" amongst the villagers – was that, much like her Sister Bennet, she wielded greater power than anyone gave her credit for. It was easy enough to dismiss her as vulgar and witless, but in fact Aunt Philips was the reigning gossip of Meryton and its surrounding environs. This might not seem like a high position on the face of it, but many a reputation had been ruined by harsh whispers and sly innuendo, both locally and abroad. Aunt Philips, as the area's foremost purveyor of tittle-tattle, could quite easily turn the tide of public opinion either for or against a person. It was done with greater subtlety than most would believe her capable of – a suggestion here, an insinuation there – and her network of fellow gossips spread word more quickly than a fire consumed kindling. Elizabeth had always assumed during the debacle featuring Samuel Golding that Aunt Philips had been the one to plant the idea of his supposed unnatural urges into the public consciousness as a punitive show of family solidarity with her niece. It could never be proven that she had been the instigator, of course, but then that was the nature of gossip.

Most fortunately for the Bennets, Aunt Philips promoted only the most beneficial stories about them because they were her favored relations. Having never been blessed with children of her own, Aunt Philips doted upon her sister's girls as if they were her own daughters and would always do much to ensure that they were protected against all naysayers. To this end, she had been in something of a feud with Lady Lucas for the past few years who, since her husband's knighthood, had – in Aunt Philips' and Mama's opinion – "put on airs" and held herself above the rest of the populace of Meryton. Considering the fact that Sir William had started life as a merchant's son and become a tradesman himself, Mama and Aunt Philips had decided that this was all rather too much to bear and so the trade of harmful gossip had begun. For Elizabeth's part, she felt that her mother and aunt were conveniently forgetting their own origins in order to "put Lady Lucas in her place," but there was no reasoning with their silliness. Charlotte, too, had similarly vowed to stay out of the tiff and remained a neutral party.

As Aunt Philips and Mama plotted together, the door to the parlor opened and Mrs Winthrop entered with the tea tray balanced between her hands. With a conspiratorial nod to her sister, Aunt Philips spoke at an unnaturally loud volume, "Why, that is wonderful news, Sister! You say Mr Darcy has proposed to our Lizzy?"

"Yes, just this morning!" agreed Mama, her voice raised likewise. Elizabeth looked to Jane and rolled her eyes at this bit of theater; she would never understand why her mother and aunt must put on this production for the sake of Mrs Winthrop, who was Aunt Philips' primary conspirator. Such subterfuge amongst those in on the secret seemed unnecessary to her, but she supposed that it was all part of their fun. "And she has accepted him! Just think, my Lizzy will likely be Mrs Darcy before the year is out!"

Mrs Winthrop, who had paused in lowing the tea tray to the table, flicked her eyes toward her mistress as if searching for some sort of permission, and received a distinct nod from Aunt Philips. She laid the tea things down with a loud thunk and then stood up. "If it please you, ma'am, I thought I would go place your order at the butcher's. Perhaps the grocer's and baker's, too. If you're not needing me right now, o'course."

"Excellent notion, Winthrop. Do go on and buy yourself a sweet bun while you are out." Aunt Philips nodded again and Mrs Winthrop hurriedly shuffled from the room. Turning back to Mama once the door had closed upon the housekeeper, she said, "Gabby will get the word out, not to worry. By this evening, it will be well known that Elizabeth is to marry Mr Darcy."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Mama, clapping her hands together gleefully and bounced excitedly upon her cushion. She sobered slightly and said, "But, Sister, there is one other thing I would ask your help with, but it cannot leave this room."

Aunt Philips, in the midst of pouring tea for each of them, looked up at Mama and paused in her task. "Oh?"

Contrary to popular belief, "the clucking hen" would not, in fact, crow anything and everything that was confided to her. She was actually quite adept at keeping secrets whenever she so chose, but took more pleasure in revealing them than otherwise and so tended to gossip unfettered. When asked by her dear Sister Bennet or one of the girls, however, she had proven herself to be entirely trustworthy. Thus, Mama had no qualms about making her next request. "Mr Bennet has, as I have already said, determined that Lizzy is to marry Mr Collins. Should he approach Mr Philips about writing up any marriage articles or other documents of the like, I hope you will know what to do about it."

"Oh, of course, Sister, I know exactly how to handle it. I am sure Andrew will find that he is suddenly too busy to attend to such matters – or perhaps he might accidentally drop the papers in the fire. One never knows." A sly smile spread across Aunt Philips' lips at this seemingly unlikely conjecture.

One assumption about the Philipses that was most assuredly correct was that Mr Philips was henpecked by his wife. Elizabeth hid her smile behind her teacup as she thought fondly of her long suffering uncle and his weak will. It was not funny, or at least it should not be, but he really was rather hopeless against his wife and her demands.

A fit of giggles drew the attention of all the ladies to where Kitty and Lydia sat, heads bent together conspiratorially. "Just wait until I tell Maria!" said Lydia with an accompanying snort.

Elizabeth scowled at them; it was entirely like them to make a serious subject into a joke. Quite frankly, she still had reservations about including her youngest and least circumspect sisters in on the plot, but had ultimately recognized that there was nothing for it. It was not as if Kitty and Lydia would not eventually learn all the details about the current household drama, what with Elizabeth and Mama both vehemently in favor of William's suit and Papa decidedly against it. There was no way to hide it, and so divulging everything – well, most everything, at least; Elizabeth had no intentions of delving into the specifics of her summer romance with a pair of silly gossips, even if they were her relations – was most prudent. But how would anyone curb their wagging tongues? Unlike Aunt Philips, who knew when to speak and when to be silent, Kitty and Lydia had no filter to speak of.

"Now girls," Mama turned round to face her daughters who were seated in a semi-circle around the sofa upon which she and Aunt Philips sat, "I want you all to promote Lizzy's engagement to Mr Darcy about the neighborhood. Do not mention any of that rubbish about your father denying his consent – he will change his tune soon enough. And, for goodness sakes, say nothing of Mr Collins."

Kitty and Lydia's response to this was to giggle again and resume whispering to one another. A moment later, however, they both jumped at the sound of something loud striking the tea table and returned their attention to where Mama and Aunt Philips sat, both scowling at the youngest Bennets. Kitty was immediately cowed and even Lydia looked rather nervous, though she showed no sign of being abashed.

"Girls," Mama admonished, her voice more stern and even than Elizabeth had personally ever heard it, "you will spread the story we have decided upon – and only that story – or so help me you will live to regret it. I will not have you ruining Lizzy's chances to marry Mr Darcy or make fools of us all. Do you not realize that we stand at the edge of ruin?"

Elizabeth squirmed uncomfortably at this proclamation, recognizing the truth of it and her hand in creating the situation, as Lydia scoffed. "I do not understand why Lizzy wants to marry that boring Mr Darcy anyhow; no one liked him at all until he kissed her in front of everyone! How we laughed!"

Mama's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she beheld her youngest. Kitty, sitting next to Lydia, shrank into her chair as if she hoped to be spared the same notice whilst Lydia herself met their mother's glare with a look of jolly unconcern. "Let me be perfectly clear," said Mama through her clenched teeth, "if you speak even one word outside of the accepted story, or even hint that all is not as it should be, I will suspend all of your pin money until your next birthday!"

Lydia, who had only just turned fifteen in the spring, looked equal parts incredulous and horrified at the very idea. "You cannot do that!"

"No? You would do well to remember that I am your mother and you are subject to my authority. You will do as I say, child, or suffer the consequences." Mama looked Lydia up and down and then turned her gaze to Kitty, who trembled visibly in her chair. "If I even so much as suspect that the two of you will speak out of turn, you will return to the schoolroom immediately as well as losing your pin money. No more balls, no more parties, no more visits – am I perfectly understood?"

Elizabeth had never seen Mama behave so firmly with the younger girls – or any of them, really – before and was as surprised by the sudden shift in her manner as Kitty and Lydia seemed to be. Jane, too, watched all of this unfold with her mouth slightly agape in wonder. Mama must be absolutely set upon having William for a son-in-law if she were willing to assert her authority over her wildest daughters in such a way.

Lydia stared warily at Mama for several long seconds, presumably gauging how serious their mother was on the subject. Finding no flexibility of any kind in Mama's expression, Lydia finally sighed and said, rather mulishly, "Yes, Mama." Kitty repeated Lydia's acquiescence half a beat later.

"And you will be especially guarded around Maria Lucas," Mama added, flicking her eyes rapidly between Kitty and Lydia. This time, they agreed in chorus with one another. "Good. Those Lucases are artful, grasping people and we must always be on our guard around them, particularly Lady Lucas. I would not have it get back to her that your father has denied Mr Darcy's suit; it would ruin everything." After Kitty and Lydia had once again acceded to their mother's demands, Mama turned back to Aunt Philips and the conversation shifted to the happier subject of wedding plans.

After another quarter hour of prattling on about new carriages, wedding breakfasts, trousseaux and other fripperies of the same kind during which Elizabeth only politely contributed, there was a slight knock upon the parlor door and Mrs Winthrop appeared from behind it. Her expression was smug as she nodded to Aunt Philips, who turned a wink to her Sister Bennet immediately thereafter, and began the process of clearing away the tea things.

At this collection of signals, Mama rose from her seat and announced that it was time to depart for another errand. "Come, girls!" she cried cheerfully after kissing Aunt Philips' cheek. "We must away if we are to see Mr Stephens this morning before luncheon."

Elizabeth exchanged a quick look with Jane at the mention of the local parson, but neither made any objection. It was hardly a stretch to think that part of Mama's plan was to speak to Mr Stephens before Papa lest any unwanted banns were to be called.

After a quick round of goodbyes which were similar in tenor to their earlier greetings, the Bennet ladies all descended the staircase in a line, retrieved their things and exited the Philips' residence. Out in the street, the same thick cloud of gossip was still laid thick upon the village, but instead of an oppressive fog of disapproval it had transformed into a light froth of cheerful congratulations. Almost before Elizabeth could properly step over the threshold of her aunt's house into the public arena, she was accosted merrily by the green grocer's wife who offered her best wishes.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I be the first to congratulate you on a spectacular match?"

While Mrs Green continued on, the Bennets were approached by three more ladies, Mrs Long and her nieces, who had yet more felicitations to add.

"It was so romantic!"

"Was it love at first sight?"

"You will be very, very happy, my dear."

Elizabeth accepted all of these compliments with some bewilderment as she had not realized quite how quickly the word would be spread. She should not have underestimated her aunt and the voracious nature of gossiping neighbors, apparently.

Once the gathered crowd had reached yet greater proportions – surely, there had not been so many people on the street when they had first exited Aunt Philips' house; some of them must have come outside just for the purpose of fawning over Elizabeth's good fortune – Mama began making their excuses loudly and leading them away toward the vicarage down the lane.

Author's Note: I know that y'all were probably as confused as Darcy last chapter, but I gotta draw out the tension a little (besides, it was Darcy's turn). Things are now on track to foil Mr Bennet's schemes, but don't forget that Mr Collins is on his way and likely to throw a wrench into the works. Meantime, let's move on and see how annoyed Mr Bennet is by all of this going on behind his back...his POV is up next :)

So sorry again about the lack of updates last week. I was right in the middle of finishing up this chapter on Friday morning when I got the call about MawMaw being transferred to hospice care and, of course, abandoned my writing to go say goodbye. After that, I spent much of the weekend with my family because she passed on that same evening. I tried to leave an explanation about a temporary hiatus on my profile page, but I know that no one got alerted, or anything. I also considered adding a false chapter with an explanation, but I thought that might annoy people with false hope for an update AND it's technically against site rules, so...I'm considering setting up a mailing list or blog to connect more directly to readers. If this is something you're interested in, please let me know.

In the meantime, I'm going to do my best to get caught up with future chapters so that the posting schedule isn't shot all to hell. I SHOULD be able to do it now that I'm done with AHA (the last two chapters and epilogue to be posted THIS weekend). There's a possibility that the ultimate completion date will be pushed out until the end of August, but that's as bad as it will get. For now, the dates below stand.

Next Update: May 15, 2020
Expected Completion: July 24, 2020

– MrsMarySmythe