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
PSA: I hope that you and yours are safe and healthy during the COVID-19 crisis. Take precautions for yourself and others and please don't hoard any goods that your family doesn't need; we're all in this together, even while we remain physically apart.
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-Five
As Elizabeth walked along the lane with William's strong presence at her side, her anxieties began to melt away. There would be a resurgence once she was again in Mr Collins' company, she was sure, but it was impossible to be long disturbed in the company of her dearest, most wonderful William. Elizabeth unleashed her worries in a long sigh and tilted her head to rest against his shoulder.
It was not only William's presence which gave her comfort, but also his promise of taking her away from Longbourn should their situation become more dire. Elizabeth had no desire to make for Scotland any more than he, but she did not wish to absolutely decide against elopement as an option if it proved to be the only method by which they could overcome their increasingly convoluted situation. She was glad to know that, under the right circumstances, William would act decisively to protect their future together – even if that meant breaking society's rules. She could ask no more.
They had discussed the possibility of elopement from the first, but both had previously agreed that it was not the method they wanted to employ to achieve their ends. What William had only a half hour previously said about potentially injuring their sisters by association was true, even if the scandal resulting from a clandestine elopement would not make them social pariahs. Though, in all fairness to William, it would perhaps mean more to Georgiana than it would to any of the Bennet girls as the Darcys inhabited a higher circle of society than could be found in the wilds of Hertfordshire. No doubt some of the upper crust would be disinclined to link themselves to a family with any sort of blemish upon their reputation. It was, perhaps, bad enough that William wished to marry a nobody with no fortune in the first place and Elizabeth would not wish to damage Georgiana's marital prospects more than she could help.
Such had been her thought process before meeting Mr Collins. After, Elizabeth's opinion had shifted somewhat the other way.
It was a reaction based in nothing better than irrational panic, Elizabeth was forced to admit to herself. This same said panic was partially derived from feeling that her father had upped the ante by inviting her supposed fiance to Longbourn, thus making the so-called betrothal to Mr Collins more real than it had been before, but she could have rationalized away those concerns with a little time of clear thought. The fear that Elizabeth could not suppress came from the way Mr Collins sometimes looked at her.
Back in Derbyshire, before Elizabeth had come to know and fall in love with William, she had been unsettled by his way of staring at her, but never had she felt afraid of what those steady gazes had meant. He had looked at her with an unwavering intensity, but Elizabeth had never sensed any malice in William's eyes or demeanor. Never worried that he was imagining anything...ungentlemanly.
It was difficult to place her finger exactly upon what made Mr Collins' gaze different from William's, but she felt it to be something other. Something disturbing. Perhaps it was simply a reflection of the sense of entitlement Mr Collins apparently felt over Elizabeth; from everything that he said, from his expectations for a wife to how offhandedly he referred to "the happiness of their future life," it was apparent that Mr Collins considered himself engaged to her. Elizabeth gave him no encouragement – neither did anyone aside from Papa – but he believe it all the same. Mama had laid down as many hints as she dare that Elizabeth's affections were engaged elsewhere, but Mr Collins either did not hear or chose to ignore them in favor of what Papa related to him. She could not blame him, Elizabeth supposed, as it was generally the father's place to arrange a daughter's marriage – a fact which had caused much suffering at Longbourn of late – and so it was no surprise that Mr Collins considered their betrothal iron clad.
This much Elizabeth could understand, but that wolfish stare, coupled with a sly, oily little smile...she could not abide it. It reminded her of an incident that she would sooner forget, one which had frightened her when she had been a young girl at the Gardiners' home in London. Elizabeth had seen that very look before, even if it had not been aimed in her direction, but at Jane.
Jane had come out at fifteen and Mama had been in such a rage to marry her off that all the Bennets – save Papa, who had chosen to stay home with his books – had traveled to London in order to introduce her to a new, potentially wealthier pool of husband candidates amongst the Gardiners' acquaintance. They had stayed for a month while Mama and Aunt Gardiner had escorted Jane to various balls and other amusements, though Elizabeth and the younger girls had, of course, remained in the nursery. Elizabeth did not know exactly where Jane had met Mr Grimes, but he began calling at the townhouse and, much to Mama's joy, seemed enamored of the eldest Miss Bennet despite her tender years.
One day, when Aunt Gardiner had been out and Mama had strategically withdrawn from the sitting room where Mr Grimes had been courting Jane, Elizabeth had sneaked down from the nursery to spy on what her elder sister was doing with her gentleman caller. From a crack in the door, Elizabeth had witnessed Mr Grimes sitting close to Jane as he recited some lines of very bad poetry – "food of love," indeed! – and looking at her with that disgusting fervor Elizabeth had later witnessed in Mr Collins. She had not, at the age of thirteen, quite understood the concepts of attraction, but it had been easy to see that Jane was made uncomfortable by Mr Grimes' proximity. Elizabeth had watched as Mr Grimes had drawn ever closer, his spidery fingers treading across the sofa cushion as they encroached upon Jane's leg, and witnessed Jane's countenance morph from embarrassment to distress. Before the horrid man could do more than cup her sister's knee, Elizabeth had burst through the door and disrupted them, which had sent Mr Grimes scuttling into a far corner of the room like a startled insect. When Mama had scolded Elizabeth later about intruding upon a most promising interlude, she had described what she had witnessed between Mr Grimes and Jane. This had the startling effect of quieting Mama's shrieking complaints, a first in Elizabeth's life up to that point. After that, they never saw Mr Grimes again and the Bennet ladies had returned to Hertfordshire when their visit was due to conclude. It had never been mentioned again.
Being the object of similar attentions from Mr Collins brought back all the nervous anxiety Elizabeth had experienced on behalf of Jane. She knew not, specifically, what that gaze meant, but she had a strong guess as to the import of it. It was the kind of look a gentleman should never bestow upon a lady and Mr Collins, as a clergyman, should be preaching against the underlying sin rather than employing it himself.
Of course, Elizabeth could do nothing other than avoid Mr Collins' company, which was why she had been in such a rage to urge William to reconsider an elopement as the answer to their problems. He was right, however, in that their situation was not yet so dire as to resort to instigating the scandal of making for the border, as well as the inherent issues of actually reaching it so deep into the autumn, and so Elizabeth was resigned to staying their previous course of exercising patience. Perhaps if Papa witnessed Mr Collins' leering for himself, he might reconsider his position on the match he had orchestrated between them. Elizabeth hoped that his blindness did not extend so far as to ignore that which made her decidedly uncomfortable.
"You are quiet, my love."
Elizabeth pivoted her head to look up at William – he really was very tall – and forced a smile. "I suppose I am still caught up in our troubles. I should not dwell on them so, but it is difficult not to when every day they seem to be increasing."
William leaned down and, maneuvering around the shade of her bonnet, placed a sweet kiss upon her lips. There was no one about this early in the morning, but Elizabeth was still mildly surprised that he would risk showing such affection on an open lane where anyone could walk by. She chalked it up to his ongoing concern for her emotional welfare and beamed up at him with more genuine warmth.
When he straightened up again, William maintained the eye contact between them. "We shall overcome this, Elizabeth. Before you know it, you will be coming home to Pemberley as its mistress and all of this will be nothing more than a nightmare."
Elizabeth glanced up the packed dirt road and located the exact spot where the local soil gave way to gravel, the sign which denoted the beginning of Longbourn's circular drive. Just round the bend, the manor house would come into view and their little tete-a-tete would be at an end. With this in mind, Elizabeth halted their progress; she was not yet ready to separate from William and his soothing presence.
"I know, but I cannot help worrying," she admitted, her eyes still locked upon the curve which would lead her home. To her father's home.
William took both of her hands in his and turned her to face him. His expression was firm and sincere with his mouth set in a line and his brow lightly furrowed. "I will not allow any outcome which does not result in you as my wife. Even if we must do something drastic, I will do whatever is required to bring you home as Mrs Darcy."
Arching up onto the tips of her toes, Elizabeth pressed her lips to his for another kiss. She would not tempt him again as she had earlier, but a chaste expression of her adoration was not unacceptable. "I know. And your promise means much to me. Let us hope that nothing 'drastic' will be required."
"Agreed."
Elizabeth lowered herself back down to rest flat on her feet. Feeling suddenly impish, she teased, "Honestly, elopement was the lesser evil of our two 'drastic' options."
William tilted his head endearingly to one side, his brow drooping slightly more in bafflement. "Oh? What was the other?"
With a tingling warmth in her cheeks, Elizabeth withdrew her gaze and laughed. "Let us just say that my mother's idea would have rushed us to the altar for fear of an even greater scandal."
When she dared to look back up at William, she bit her lower lip to prevent herself from bursting out into giggles. His countenance was as crimson as the autumn leaves.
o0o
Some time later, after a lengthy farewell between herself and William, Elizabeth entered her family's home through its front entrance and shed her outerwear. She passed the articles on to a passing maid, Sarah, and ventured deeper into the house until she reached the closed breakfast room door.
From beyond the door, Elizabeth could hear the low murmur of voices, the variety of them indicating that she was the last to arrive for the meal. The shrill complaining was easily identifiable as her mother, the bubbling laughter and the nearly inaudible response of disapprobation would be her younger sisters, and the disgruntled muttering at a deeper register could be none other than her father. Elizabeth could not hear Jane, but then her elder sibling was not inclined toward conversation whenever others were happy to take the task upon themselves. Only one voice was comparatively unfamiliar to her, that of a loud, nasally whine which made her stomach clench with tension.
"...as I was telling Lady Catherine just the other day..."
Elizabeth drew in a breath and steadied herself to face what awaited her inside. She grasped the doorknob, turned it and let herself into the breakfast room where each face swiveled in her direction. "Good morning," she greeted, skirting her eyes quickly away from their guest where he sat at the end of the table nearest to Papa.
"Good morning, Lizzy."
"Morning, Lizzy!"
"Good morning."
Elizabeth rounded her mother's end of the table, patting Mama upon the shoulder as she passed, and took the seat which had been left open for her between Jane and Mary, placing her in the center of the line. Kitty was across from her, Lydia next to Mama, and Mr Collins took the seat of honor to Papa's right. The Bennets were not usually so formal as to seat themselves according to seniority, but such had been the configuration since dinner the night before. Mama had placed them so in order to separate her from Mr Collins and Elizabeth was eminently grateful to her mother for arranging it so. Having him so close to her in the sitting room prior to the evening meal had been the first test of Elizabeth's fortitude in enduring Mr Collins' leering gaze.
She could feel it upon her now, though Elizabeth kept her head bowed as she buttered her toast with as much concentration as she could muster. She did not wish to see that sly smile or those beady eyes directed at her if she could help it.
"Good morning, Cousin Elizabeth. I hope you slept well?" Mr Collins inquired from down the table. Elizabeth did not respond, but in the end she did not have to; Mr Collins continued on without any encouragement from her. "Lady Catherine says that a good night's rest is most important to one's overall health, though she cautions against sleeping too late in the morning. It is her opinion that one should rise with the cock's crow so as to heighten one's usefulness and that laying abed until the sun is high is indicative of a lazy mind. Lady Catherine thinks – "
"I assure you, Mr Collins," Papa broke in amidst the incredulous giggles of Kitty and Lydia, "that my Lizzy has been awake since before sunrise. She enjoys a walk before breakfast."
Elizabeth looked up to frown at her father for defending her habits to Mr Collins; she did not wish to make herself more attractive to such a mate. When she directed her glare toward his end of the table, however, she caught Mr Collins looking back at her with that oily smile and she turned away again.
"In that case, I must commend my lovely cousin Elizabeth for being so active. Why, Lady Catherine promotes daily exercise for everyone, believing it to be very healthful, so long as the proprieties are observed. But...oh, Cousin Elizabeth does not walk out alone, does she?"
Elizabeth whipped her head up and replied, before her father could, "As a matter of fact, I do not walk out alone, Mr Collins."
Papa's eyes narrowed, a silent caution to refrain from speaking of William. Papa was lazy in his guardianship, but not stupid, and knew very well that Elizabeth likely met William for a rendezvous every morning during her constitutional. He was not inclined to exert himself in putting a stop to it, but he was still intent upon hiding Elizabeth's ongoing romance from Mr Collins. Elizabeth was tempted to disobey her father and reveal all, but could see little benefit in doing so. Besides, she need not say anything; William would make his intentions clear when he visited with Mr Bingley later in the morning.
The remainder of breakfast passed with little conversation as Mr Collins took the entire obligation of speaking upon himself. He continued in the same vein of extolling the benefits of daily exercise, as promoted by her ladyship, and moved right along into the other sorts of activities Lady Catherine apparently approved of. His garden, his parish duties and his dutiful attendance upon his patroness were all elaborated upon, though his audience had already heard much of the same as they had made his acquaintance the evening before. Elizabeth was hardly the only Bennet to attend to their toast with glazed eyes.
At length, though Mr Collins was by no means done speaking, Papa cut in to suggest, "As it is quite a fine day and you have acknowledged a desire to know more of the area, Cousin, I think a walk into the village is in order. And I am sure that Lizzy would be happy to attend you."
Mr Collins, though initially appearing put out at having been interrupted so unceremoniously, brightened at the prospect of spending time in the sole company of his fair cousin and said so with many unnecessary flourishes. "Why, that is a most excellent idea! I am quite keen, as you say Cousin Bennet, to explore the area that I shall one day consider my home and I am certain that my fair Cousin Elizabeth will make an excellent guide. When we are married, I shall depend on you to – "
"Oh, but I must beg your pardon, sir," Elizabeth interjected with the sort of quickness which denoted slight panic, William's warning to avoid being alone with her cousin ringing loudly in her ears. Mr Collins leaned forward slightly and affixed his eyes upon her, a beady scrutiny which inspired an uncomfortable clench in the pit of Elizabeth's stomach. She darted her gaze away and resettled it upon her father whose own in return was hardly sympathetic. "I am quite fatigued after my ramble earlier and do not feel equal to another. I believe I shall stay home and sit with my mother and sisters today."
When Papa opened his mouth to object, Mama cut him off with her exclamation of, "My dear girl, of course you are too tired to walk all the way to Meryton! We would not wish to overtax you – you see, Mr Collins," Mama turned to their guest with an affectation of regret and concern, "my Lizzy's health can be somewhat indifferent, always fluctuating from apparent health to a dreadful weakness. She is not equal to even the smallest of exertions most days! I think it must be her nerves."
Elizabeth almost wanted to laugh at the sudden adoption of her mother's ailment, but was careful to arrange her features into an expression of utmost weariness for the sake of Mr Collins, who continued to observe her with an uncomfortable closeness.
"Nonsense, Mrs Bennet," Papa denied with a light scowl. "Lizzy has always been healthy as a horse and is never tired. I am sure the single mile between here and Meryton will be nothing to her."
"But Mr Bennet – "
"Lizzy will escort Mr Collins to Meryton and show him all that there is to see and that is final, Mrs Bennet. See to your own 'nerves,'" was Papa's final command on the subject.
Elizabeth slumped in her chair from actual weakness at the thought of spending her morning walking about with Mr Collins. But Mama was not yet done and pushed for an alternative. "Well, if you are content to risk your own child's health, so be it, Mr Bennet," she sniffed. Mama then addressed Mary, who startled from practicing her fingering against the tabletop. "Mary, dear, I am sure you will not mind running a little errand for me in the village this morning. My Mary," as an aside to Mr Collins, "is such a responsible, dutiful girl, always ready to assist when asked – and even when she is not! She would make an excellent parson's wife, I am sure."
Next to Elizabeth, Mary seemed nearly as wary as her elder sister at the prospect of being thrust into Mr Collins' company, but acquiesced without complaint. She even seemed a touch flattered to receive a compliment from Mama, who was often critical of her middle daughter. "Of course, Mama."
"I am sure Elizabeth would be happy to fetch whatever little trinket you wish, Mrs Bennet." Papa's scowl was deepening, but Mama refused to notice.
"If Lizzy is busy showing Mr Collins the local attractions, as you have so generously suggested that she should, she will have little time for my needs! In fact, I believe that all the girls could use an airing today and I am sure my Sister Philips will be wanting a call." Mama turned again to Mr Collins, who tore his lingering gaze away from Elizabeth when he was thus addressed, "I am sure that Mr Collins does not mind."
"Well, Madam – "
"After all, it would not do for a clergyman in your position to be seen escorting a lady who is not his wife around in public! It would be such a scandal, do you not agree, sir?" Mama waited expectantly for their guest to respond.
Mr Collins looked yet again at Elizabeth, but resentfully acknowledged, "I suppose it would be for the best...until we are married."
Mama grinned in triumph in Papa's direction and was met with the sour pucker of a glower.
o0o
A mere half an hour later, all the Bennet ladies – save the matriarch herself – were ambling down the same lane Elizabeth and William had traveled earlier that morning in reverse. The company was lacking in comparison to what she had enjoyed before breakfast, but at least she was not consigned to Mr Collins alone; Mary, who took her duties as chaperone as seriously as she did everything else, was never more than a few footsteps behind while Jane and the younger girls walked ahead. She had even managed to avoid accepting Mr Collins' arm by keeping both of her own clasped firmly behind her back, so Elizabeth only had to endure his proximity and not his touch. In short, it could have been much worse without her mother's intervention.
Of course, there was nothing anyone could do to ameliorate the burden of Mr Collins' conversation, of which there was much. He was as unceasingly loquacious as he had previously proven himself to be and his topics depressingly unvaried. Elizabeth was growing quite tired of hearing of Lady Catherine and her vaunted condescension, though she supposed that it was better to affect reverence for the grand dame than to hide her revulsion at the open discussion of Mr Collins' plans for their future marriage. Of which he had many.
The worst part of the walk, however, was not Mr Collins' conversation, but his continued leering. Elizabeth did her utmost to keep her head bowed and her face hidden beyond the shade of her bonnet, but she could feel his eyes burning like hot coals into her skin no matter how much she attempted to ignore them. Whenever she could not avoid replying to one of her escort's comments, Elizabeth would glance up to see his eyes unerringly trained upon her with that same expression of shiver-inducing hunger and his lips twisted into that vile little smirk. It made her skin tingle as if crawling with thousands of tiny spiders.
Prior to leaving for their little excursion, Elizabeth had gone upstairs on the pretense of collecting her pelisse and bonnet. Instead of going directly to her room, however, she had followed Papa into the library and shut the door.
"Please, Papa," she had begged to his back as he had crossed the floor and settled himself into his preferred chair, "please reconsider your position."
Papa had sighed as if he were the one being put upon. "Elizabeth, I will not be worked upon by sad eyes or whining complaints. You are going to marry your cousin and become the mistress of this house. You may as well accustom yourself to this eventuality because I will not be moved."
"How can you say that now that you have actually met Mr Collins?" Elizabeth had exclaimed in return. "I know that you do not think well of his intelligence, to say nothing of his loathsome personality. Why do you persist in having your way when the man you insist I marry is nothing but a sycophantic bore?"
With a sharp look, Papa had castigated, "Mr Collins is your betrothed and I expect you to treat him with more respect than you have just shown him." Elizabeth had then bit her lips together to prevent any response from spilling out while her father continued, "He is one day to be master of Longbourn, this much cannot be changed. I am counting upon you to lead him into becoming a good one. Mr Collins is not the cleverest of men, perhaps, but he is respectable, not vicious; he will provide a tolerably good life for you so long as you do not abuse him in the way you just did. And I will point out further that there is some benefit in having a rather dull spouse; no doubt you will have your way around here more often than not, even if you must expend the effort to guide your husband around to your way of thinking."
Elizabeth's eyes had grown steadily wider as Papa had expressed his views, astounded that they could see the same man in such different terms. "Respectable? Have you not seen the way he leers at me? I do not call that the behavior of a 'respectable' man!"
Papa had started at this accusation. "He 'leers' at you, you say? Lizzy, I think you overstate the matter."
"I assure you that I do not," Elizabeth had countered with vehemence, sorely tempted to stamp her foot in opposition to his willful blindness. "The way he looks at me...it makes me very uncomfortable, Papa." She finished with a hot blush upon her cheeks.
Sitting deeper into his chair, Papa had crossed his legs and shaken his head, as if amazed at her in some way. "You do not understand the ways of men, Elizabeth. When Mr Collins looks at you in that way, he is...well, erm...it is not unseemly for a man to look at his future wife in that fashion. I am sorry you are discomfited by it, but there it is."
"So you will do nothing?"
"There is nothing I can do, my dear. Ask your mother to explain it to you."
And then he had picked up his book and buried his nose in it, thereby dismissing her from his presence. Elizabeth sighed at the recollection; it seemed that her father was determined to see nothing that he did not wish to and believe the best of the situation he had created, regardless of the evidence before him. If Papa was ready and willing to dismiss even the most obvious of Mr Collins' flaws – that of his foolishness and sycophancy – there was no chance of him acknowledging those which were more subtle.
When they crossed into the village, it was as bustling as it generally was on a Wednesday morning. Shopkeepers about their business, residents to-ing and fro-ing about from one place to the next, happy conversations floating about like clouds above their heads. The only marked difference between this Wednesday and most of the ones which had come before it was the addition of a sprinkling of redcoated gentlemen dispersed throughout the usual crowd. The militia had quartered themselves in Meryton a few weeks prior and were, in general, cheerfully accepted amongst the populace. They were, if nothing else, something new to look at and talk about amongst the denizens of the area and added a bit of variety to their various engagements.
Kitty and Lydia were amongst those of the locals who were most pleased to have officers around to brighten their days, though this pleasure was perhaps felt too much. Whenever Elizabeth was not attending to her own problems of late, she had been joined with Jane in attempting to curb the younger girls' enthusiasm over flirting with the militia members at every occasion. The eldest Miss Bennets had hoped to convince their mother to curb Kitty and Lydia's enthusiasm for officers, but Mama saw little wrong with a bit of harmless fun in the company of handsome young gentlemen and would do nothing of any import to dissuade them from their empty-headed pursuits. Papa, of course, could not be prevailed upon to do more, and so it was up to Elizabeth and Jane – and occasionally Mary, though often her interference was considered even more officious and, therefore, more offensive – to rein in Kitty and Lydia.
"I say," said Mr Collins, sneering at the backs of Kitty and Lydia as they crossed the street to speak to a small cluster of officers, "are your younger sisters often so...friendly?"
It seemed that Mr Collins' disapprobation was no better than his approval and so Elizabeth fought the urge to sigh at him and roll her eyes. "They have many friends," she circumspectly replied.
"It is most unseemly for a young lady to chase after young men in the street! Lady Catherine says – "
"Shall we not greet the officers ourselves, Jane, Mary?" Elizabeth quickly suggested, always eager to do the opposite of what Mr Collins considered pleasing in a young woman. "I believe I see Mr Denny, who must have only just returned from Town."
Mary looked no better pleased to speak with the officers than Mr Collins, but both of Elizabeth's sisters agreed to the social excursion and followed her across to where the small party stood in front of the bakery. By happy coincidence, their Aunt Philips' home was situated only two doors down from that establishment and so they would be able to pay her a visit – and get Mr Collins off the street where all the village could see him blatantly courting Elizabeth – once they managed to convince the youngest Bennets away from the redcoats.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary," greeted Mr Denny once curtsies and bows had all been properly exchanged between them. Mr Denny was a cheerful, friendly sort of man who was considered quite a favorite amongst the ladies of the area for his easy charm and passably good looks. He was not nearly so handsome as William, of course, but there was nothing amiss about his appearance and he seemed more gentlemanly in manners than many of his compatriots. Insofar as the officers went, Mr Denny was perhaps not such a terrible choice for Kitty and Lydia to admire. Currently, however, they were flirting shamelessly with Captain Carter and Lieutenant Saunderson and paying little heed to the more rational conversation going on around them. "And good morning to you, sir." Mr Denny bowed an additional time to Mr Collins, who reciprocated with a deeper one of his own.
"Oh, I do apologize," said Jane with her usual mildness. "Mr Denny, this is our cousin, Mr Collins. He has lately arrived from Kent to stay with us."
"A pleasure to meet you."
"Yes, a very great pleasure, indeed," agreed Mr Collins with a wobbly nod and a wide smile. Apparently, his objections to knowing this officer had evaporated.
Before their cousin could elaborate on the very great pleasure he took in making Mr Denny's acquaintance and whatever thoughts Lady Catherine may or may not have on the same subject, Elizabeth queried, "And how was your sojourn to London, sir? Was it profitable?"
Mr Denny laughed congenially. "If you mean to ask if I was successful in my errand then, yes, I was. I even happened to find some time for my own enjoyment and became reacquainted with an old friend whilst I was there. I tried to tempt him into taking up a commission himself, but he sadly declined – some pressing concerns keep him in Town. Well, it is perhaps for the best; he is a handsome devil and would no doubt have diminished me in the eyes of all the ladies hereabouts." He winked at Kitty and Lydia who tittered and denied that they should be so disloyal in return.
Elizabeth smiled and said what was polite in response. "What a shame. I am certain he would have been an excellent addition to our society, had you been able to persuade him."
"Undoubtedly."
The conversation shifted to more inconsequential nothings between Mr Denny and the Bennet ladies and Mr Collins was, for a short time, blissfully forgotten. Until he reintroduced himself to their notice in a most mortifying fashion.
"My dear Miss Elizabeth," Mr Collins interjected without so much as a by your leave to haughtily reprimand, "I cannot think that you have much knowledge on that subject."
Elizabeth immediately flushed from mortification – her own and on behalf of her cousin. "I have read as much in my father's newspapers, Mr Collins," she replied testily.
Mr Collins looked surprised and disapproving. "Well, I shall make sure to speak to him about that when we return to Longbourn. I cannot think it wise for young ladies to read such accounts and concern themselves with that which is not within the purview of gentlemen; you should spend your time more wisely, learning to care for the household, performing works of charity, attending to your appearance. Why, when we are married – "
"Girls! I have seen you standing about in this stupid manner for the past quarter hour. Do come up for some tea and tell me all your news." Elizabeth had never been quite so glad to see her Aunt Philips before this; her timing was unusually impeccable. Mr Denny was looking at Mr Collins quite strangely, as if the clergyman's unwitting declaration of his betrothal to Elizabeth confused him. Considering that her engagement to Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy had been widely published about the neighborhood for the past fortnight, it was no wonder that Mr Denny was startled by conflicting information.
Thankfully, Aunt Philips's unexpected appearance had distracted both gentlemen enough to allow the comment to pass by unheeded. Or, at least, Mr Collins appeared to forget about it instantly and Mr Denny did not press. Truly, Elizabeth liked him the best of all the officers.
"Aunt Philips," cried Elizabeth, "I do not believe you have yet made the acquaintance of Mr Collins. I believe my mother has mentioned him before." She looked at her aunt with her eyebrows raised high.
Aunt Philips accepted the heavy-handed hint with only the slightest indication that this information was unexpected. She knew very well who Mr Collins was, of course, after so many "war counsels" taking place in her sitting room over Elizabeth's tangled romantic issues and so played along splendidly. "Yes, Fanny – Mrs Bennet, that is," she said as an aside to the gentleman who had no previous knowledge of Mama's Christian name, " – has spoken of you many times before, Mr Collins. Your reputation precedes you here in Hertfordshire." Aunt Philips cast a significant look at Mr Denny which none of them could interpret, but surely contained some kind of hint. Elizabeth hoped it would make sense at a later time.
Mr Collins, for his part, looked flattered to have been spoken of before his arrival. "How very pretty of Mrs Bennet to have mentioned me! I have thought, since making her acquaintance, that she is a very intelligent, discerning woman – much like yourself, I am sure."
Elizabeth felt, initially, that this description of her mother was a bit much, but then recalled the very able manner in which she had conspired against Papa's blunter machinations lately and then admitted to herself that Mama deserved more credit. Mrs Philips could be similarly lauded as secretly clever, as she was currently demonstrating by diverting Mr Collins' conversation in a more acceptable direction. Mr Collins knew not how very true his compliments were in this case and how very much he would come to rue the fact down the line.
"Thank you, sir, it is most kind of you to say so. Do come up with the girls for a bit of refreshment – I know that long walk from Longbourn must have left you famished."
Though breakfast had been little more than an hour ago, Mr Collins looked mightily enthused at the thought of yet more sustenance. The girth about his waistline perhaps attested that he was inclined more frequently than not to indulge in gluttonous habits. "That sounds most delightful, Mrs Philips, most delightful, indeed! I shall be happy to accept."
Aunt Philips then bid Mary and Jane to show Mr Collins the way, insisting that she would be along in a trice to pour for them. Mr Collins' brow furrowed when he realized that Elizabeth was not following and so Aunt Philips shooed him along.
Once Mr Collins had been bustled into the Philips residence by his two cousins, Aunt Philips turned back to Mr Denny and affected a sigh. Elizabeth herself could not discern the meaning behind it, but she was not left long to puzzle over it. "I must beg your discretion, Mr Denny," said Aunt Philips, glancing about them as if loathe to be overheard even though her voice had not lowered a single iota, "if Mr Collins has said anything a mite...confusing."
Mr Denny's expression brightened with understanding. "You mean that comment about marrying Miss Elizabeth? Yes, I thought that rather odd; I had heard before that Miss Elizabeth was to marry Mr Darcy."
Aunt Philips sighed again and shook her head. Had Elizabeth not known otherwise, she would have truly suspected that her aunt was full of pity for Mr Collins. "The poor man is not quite right in the head. Some sort of accident when he was a boy, I think; it has rendered him simple."
"Really?" Mr Denny leaned forward with a new eagerness. Perhaps sensing this sudden interest, the group standing a little behind him consisting of Captain Carter, Lieutenant Saunderson, Kitty and Lydia also looked up with curiosity writ across each of their faces. "How terrible for the man! A simpleton, you say?"
"Indeed so, it is a most sad situation," Mrs Philips tutted. "My Sister Bennet says that you cannot believe a single thing Mr Collins says – he gets confused, you see. You must have noticed that he was dressed as a clergyman?" Mr Denny nodded and agreed that he had, as did the eavesdroppers behind him. "Well, he thinks himself a parson, of all things! As if he could have gone to university in his...condition. He even believes himself to be under the patronage of a great titled lady where he's from, someone called...what was it, Lizzy?"
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
"Yes, yes, that was it – Lady Catherine. And, now that he has come to visit, he apparently believes himself engaged to our Lizzy! His relatives all humor him somewhat, of course, for fear of upsetting him, but I would not wish for unfortunate rumors to be spread about the village."
"Oh, yes, that would be most terrible!" agreed Mr Denny, his fellow soldiers nodding along. Kitty and Lydia both looked as befuddled as Mr Collins was purported to be, but said nothing to the contrary of what their aunt was explaining.
Aunt Philips placed a hand directly over her heart and slumped in what would be thought of as relief. "You gentlemen are very good! A lady's reputation is no less beautiful than it is brittle and talk of another engagement could be disastrous to my nieces! You will treat this information delicately, will you not?"
"Of course, ma'am, we would not dream of embarrassing your lovely nieces." Again, Captain Carter and Lieutenant Saunderson nodded their acquiescence to Aunt Philips' request, the latter of whom shot a besotted look in Kitty's direction as he did so.
The ladies then parted from the officers with the excuse that Mr Collins and two of the other Miss Bennets were awaiting them upstairs in Aunt Philips' parlor. While they were ascending the staircase a few short minutes later, Elizabeth commended Mrs Philips for her cleverness. "But how did you know those details about Mr Collins?" It was the only bit Elizabeth did not quite understand regarding what had passed in the street.
The explanation was simple. "Your mother sent me a note yesterday, warning me of Mr Collins' arrival. She felt that we must be prepared to discredit him before any notion of his aspirations became known around the village. I dearly hope that he is as dull as she says otherwise our plan might not work."
Elizabeth grinned up at her aunt from her position lower on the stairs. Kitty and Lydia trailed behind, tittering and laughing at Mr Collins' expense. "I assure you, Aunt, that Mr Collins will play his role splendidly."
A quarter of an hour later, Elizabeth was seated as far as possible from Mr Collins, sipping her tea and listening him to him rhapsodizing on the similarity between Mrs Philips' sitting room and a small summer breakfast parlor at Rosings, the opulent country residence of his patroness. The comparison, Elizabeth noted with some humor, did not appear to convey much gratification to her aunt, no matter how much Lady Catherine's chimney-piece cost. Perhaps Mrs Philips would have appreciated the compliment more had Mr Collins been a sensible man or if she were inclined to think well of him, but instead her face was puckered with displeasure as Mr Collins pontificated on and on about her ladyship's elegance in comparison to his hostess'. From what Elizabeth could glean, Lady Catherine had some rather extravagant tastes – which, honestly, Aunt Philips would probably have been tempted to emulate if given unlimited means to do so – and Rosings Park sounded like nothing to Pemberley.
In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the improvements it was receiving, Mr Collins was happily employed in regaling them all regardless of the lack of interest shown by his audience. While the Jane and Mary attended to him with politeness, the youngest girls made no attempt to conceal their boredom and carried on with their own conversation as if no one else were speaking. Mrs Philips, though she nodded along, was really watching the street through the window and observing her neighbors go about their business. Elizabeth, for her part, was doing her best to not call attention to herself lest she become Mr Collins' chief object of interest; she had endured enough of his obsequious compliments and leering looks for one day and preferred to remain unnoticed by her would-be suitor for as long as feasible. It could not be long until Mr Collins recalled that he was meant to be making himself agreeable to his cousin Elizabeth in particular and so she would enjoy what little time she could outside of his scrutiny.
It was drawing close to the time that the Bennet ladies and their cousin should withdraw and either return home or patronize some of the shops in Meryton, but Mr Collins was still talking with as much enthusiasm as ever on the subjects of Lady Catherine and her home. Elizabeth was beginning to wonder if one of them would be forced to break into his monologue and drag him away when Aunt Philips suddenly made a joyful exclamation and leaped up from her seat, startling them all. She pushed open the window and gleefully called out into the street, "Mr Darcy! Mr Bingley! Do come up and have some tea with us. My nieces are here for a visit and would be most happy to have your company."
Elizabeth sat up straighter in her chair and tried to peer over her aunt's shoulder, but could see nothing beyond the overcast sky through the window. Her excitement at William's proximity overshadowed any embarrassment she should have felt at her aunt's uncouth invitation and she dearly hoped that her beloved would accept.
Mr Collins, who had not realized that he had lost part of his audience until Mrs Philips had spoken, blinked stupidly from where he was sitting, having apparently lost his train of thought. Good.
The other gentlemen were too far away to be heard clearly, but there was a cheerful exclamation from outside and another deeper rumble in response to Aunt Philips' impetuous invitation. The triumphant expression on her face implied her success and she withdrew back into the room, latching the window in place, to announce that they were to have yet more guests. A significant look was thrown to Elizabeth and another to Jane, both of whom blushed at receiving it.
Seconds later, yet far too long a wait for Elizabeth, footsteps could be heard ascending the staircase and then entering the hall beyond the parlor door. Immediately after that, William and Mr Bingley were before them and bowing to all present. When the gentlemen straightened, Elizabeth experienced the thrill of finding William's eyes seek her out and lock onto her person with intensity. She covered her shiver of anticipation with her curtsy.
"Miss Elizabeth, is this seat otherwise occupied?" William asked upon reaching her, having traversed the room with a few long steps. Behind him, Kitty and Lydia giggled at this gallantry and whispered behind their hands, which should have made Elizabeth squirm with discomfort. However, her happiness at seeing William again so soon after parting from him could not be repressed by the embarrassment of having a pair of silly sisters.
"Not at all, Mr Darcy," she replied, her heart fluttering cheerfully in her chest as she sat and indicated the seat next to her with a wave of her hand. He descended with her and scooted his chair as close as possible.
Reaching out daringly, William's fingers brushed against Elizabeth's where they rested in her lap. It was a daring move in mixed company, but Elizabeth would not scold him for it; it was his right as the man she would marry to show her affection and only Mr Collins was at all ignorant of what they meant to one another. "Elizabeth," William whispered, reverently.
"William," Elizabeth returned with the same breathless adoration. "I am happy to see you."
"And I you." His fingers stroked hers again. "Tell me, have you been well since we parted?" William's brow raised significantly and his head tilted in Mr Collins' direction.
Elizabeth did not bother to look, but nodded. "Yes, I have been well. I am sorry again for getting angry with you this morning; my only excuse is that I was unsettled, though it is a poor one."
"As I said before, you need not apologize. I understand better than most how difficult it has been for you. Let us not dwell on our disagreement."
"Agreed, my love."
"Can I assume that that gentleman," William's head again leaned in Mr Collins' direction, "is your cousin?"
Elizabeth withheld her sigh, but only barely. "You may. Odious creature, is he not?" She looked toward Mr Collins and found him looking – no, leering – back and Elizabeth quickly withdrew her eye.
William, recognizing her discomfort, grasped her hand fully within his and squeezed. "I see what you mean by his...looks and I cannot say that I like them anymore than you do. I shall speak to him about it."
Looking up, Elizabeth was ready to dissuade him from doing so, fearing the awkward consequences which might arise from an open confrontation between her two suitors, but was caught by his determined expression. Oh, but William was so handsome with his dark hair, broad shoulders and stormy blue eyes. Elizabeth could sit and just look at him for hours without ever growing bored of the activity. From the way his gaze always seemed to follow her about, she surmised that he could do the same, even if she did not consider herself so worth looking at as he was. Still, it was obvious that William found her attractive – why should a man stare so otherwise? – and Elizabeth was not the type of lady to quibble over the compliment of a worthy man's admiration. It was only the unworthy she would prefer to dissuade.
Heavy, shuffling footsteps drew Elizabeth's attention and she shifted her eyes to discover the source. William's followed likewise and they observed the approach of just such an unworthy man; Mr Collins, perhaps having discerned William's interest – or at least his proximity – in the woman he himself hoped to wed, had abandoned the rest of the party to investigate what was occurring between them. William dropped Elizabeth's hand quickly and stood to present a short, stiff bow to Mr Collins.
"Cousin Elizabeth, I do not believe I have been introduced to this…," Mr Collins' beady eyes removed themselves from Elizabeth momentarily to rove up and down William's tall, strong form before returning to her, "gentleman. I am William Collins, sir, a humble clergyman under the patronage of the right honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. And you are?"
If Elizabeth had not been watching William's face, she might have missed the flash of surprise overwhelming his features momentarily. He appeared confused for but a moment before smoothing out every wrinkle of emotion from his countenance and reasserting the cool facade he presented to strangers. "I am Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley in Derbyshire." To Elizabeth's discernment, William seemed a little reluctant to say as much to Mr Collins, which struck her as a bit odd; but then, he had little reason to think well of Mr Collins after all she had told him and supposed that he must prefer to disdain the acquaintance if it were possible. It was not, however, and so the introduction must take place.
Elizabeth, still seated, darted her eyes between the two men competing for her hand and found it impossible not to make a comparison. While Mr Collins was relatively tall, he still did not quite reach the height that William had achieved and seemed further diminished by the slouching way that he stood. Whereas Mr Collins had so far proven himself to be a sycophantic dullard with delusions of grandeur, Elizabeth knew that her William was a clever, well educated gentleman who did not overstate his importance in the world. Mr Collins tended to speak twenty words when five would do and constrained himself to subjects which could be of little interest to anyone but himself and William, while not especially gregarious or even friendly in company, held to a dignified reserve. And when it came to discerning which was more handsome than the other...well, Elizabeth could not fathoming any woman preferring Mr Collins to William, the former of whom was heavyset and sweaty, the latter muscular and impeccably neat. Fortune aside, they were as different from one another as two men could possibly be.
"And you have made the acquaintance of my dear Cousin Elizabeth, I take it?" Mr Collins said to William with that slimy, patronizing smile he oft turned to her. Elizabeth shuddered lightly and shifted in her seat. "You seem quite familiar with one another."
"I am," replied William with a cold gravity.
Mr Collins looked from William to Elizabeth and back again twice more before continuing, "I assume you have heard that Miss Elizabeth is soon to make me the happiest of men by becoming my wife. My Cousin Bennet expects us to be wed before Christmas and then we shall remove to Hunsford; I cannot be too long from my parish, you understand. Lady Catherine will be expecting me back to tend my flock sooner rather than later and – "
Before the bristling William could disabuse Mr Collins of his absurd notions, Aunt Philips joined their party with an entreaty. "Mr Darcy, do say that you and Mr Bingley will attend my little party tomorrow evening? It is only a little supper and some cards, but I believe the company," here she winked at Elizabeth, who blushed for her aunt's lack of subtlety, "will be most agreeable. And you are invited also, Mr Collins, unless you would rather remain at Longbourn with your hosts." Mrs Philips said the last with a significantly diminished amount of enthusiasm.
Mr Collins, naturally, heard nothing but the affable condescension he wished to and agreed with more words than necessary that he should be happy to attend. When he had finished, Aunt Philips turned her attention back to Mr Darcy and received his promise of also joining them. "I should be happy to, Mrs Philips. I can speak for Mr Bingley; we have no fixed engagements to prevent us."
"Wonderful! We shall be such a lively party – the officers are coming, too, you know."
At the close of this conversation, Elizabeth stood and indicated that it was time for her, her sisters and Mr Collins to be returning to Longbourn. As a result, William offered himself as an escort – seconded quickly by Mr Bingley, with his eyes attached to a visibly pleased Jane – and Elizabeth accepted with alacrity.
"Cousin Elizabeth," Mr Collins interjected loudly, drawing the attention of all the room to himself, little though he seemed to notice, "do accept my arm for the journey home. I would be most happy – "
"Oh, Mr Collins," said Mrs Philips, latching herself onto the parson's arm with a wide, slightly manic smile, "before you go, please do promise me that you will pass along my compliments to Lady Catherine when you return to Kent. From what you have said of her magnificent home and generous nature, I am certain that she is a very great lady and cannot be shown too much deference."
"Indeed, you are correct, Mrs Philips! You are a most discerning woman to say so. Why, I have always thought Lady Catherine..."
While Mr Collins was thus distracted, Aunt Philips caught Elizabeth's eye and encouraged her to make her escape quickly with a sharp jerk of her head in the direction of the open parlor door. Mr Collins, caught up in his veneration of Lady Catherine, seemed not to notice and Elizabeth stifled a giggle at his expense.
Looping her arm around William's, she led him out into the hallway, down the stairs and back into the cool autumn day outside where the rest of her sisters and Mr Bingley awaited them. Though it was rude not to wait for Mr Collins, William paused only long enough to collect the reins of his loitering steed and proceeded down the street back toward Longbourn. Behind them, the rest of their party, by silent agreement, remained so that Mr Collins would not be entirely abandoned. As she passed Jane and Mary, Elizabeth reached out and pressed their hands individually in thanks for aiding and abetting their departure. Her sisters smiled in return.
"He is worse than you said, Elizabeth," said William once they were beyond the limits of the village. His expression was shadowed with discontent and she could not blame him.
"Yes, and he seems to grow worse every time I am unfortunate enough to encounter him," she replied, releasing that sigh she had held in earlier. "When he is not imposing upon my goodwill with his delicate attentions, he is speaking incessantly of the life we shall lead in the shadow of his grand patroness! I have never met her but, from some particulars that my cousin has related of her ladyship, I cannot help but suspect that Lady Catherine is an arrogant, conceited woman. I have no desire to ever be in her company, much less place myself under her power as Mr Collins' wife!"
William winced and lowered his head before replying, "She is both in great degree, though I fear you will not be able to avoid the introduction."
Elizabeth seized in surprise. "What makes you say that? You do not think she would come all the way to Hertfordshire to make her parson's case?"
"Not Mr Collins', no." William shook his head and looked increasingly discomforted. "However, she will likely have something to say in regards to mine when she hears of my intentions toward you."
"I beg your pardon?"
William lifted his chin and affixed his eyes upon hers. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my aunt. Worse, she has long cherished the notion that I will marry her daughter, Anne, and unite our two estates." At Elizabeth's shift from confusion to dismay, he added quickly, "But it is all in her mind! She and my mother plotted a cradle betrothal between us, but it was never sanctified by my father's approval or marriage articles and I have never entertained the thought of it for a moment. My cousin is sickly and, even were she not, Anne is not the sort of woman I would wish to take to wife."
For Elizabeth, this speech was a little overwhelming. To think that another woman possibly had some claim to her William, that they were both beset by betrothals crafted by meddling family members, was...strange. And darkly humorous, now that she considered it more closely. Elizabeth rather wondered how much more convoluted their romance could become before it was all said and done.
When her silence persisted, William began speaking again, his voice somewhat agitated. "I only tell this to you, dearest, because I want you to be prepared for whatever Mr Collins might tell you on the subject in future. He did not seem to recognize my name when we were introduced, but if he should even passingly mention my interest in you to my aunt in one of his letters...I wanted you to know that any rumors of an engagement between myself and Cousin Anne are unfounded lies; I have never been, and will never be, engaged to her, no matter what other parties suggest."
Elizabeth looked up at him and gave him as much reassurance through her smile as she could manage, which had the flattering result of causing William to visibly relax. "I believe you, William, of course I do. And I am glad you have told me about this before anyone else; I am not certain what my reaction would have been had this supposed engagement been brought to my attention by my father or Mr Collins, though I cannot suppose it would have been temperate. I thank you for warning me in advance so that I might deny it on your behalf should it ever come up."
William dipped forward and kissed her lightly, tenderly. He drew back quickly, mindful that they would not be alone together for much longer with Longbourn just around the bend in the road and the sounds of the rest of their party catching them up from behind. "I love you, Elizabeth, and will marry none but you. Promise me the same."
"With all my heart."
Author's Note: A long chapter! I thought Elizabeth deserved to have a good amount of time to complain about Mr Collins and, of course, I needed to show phase two of Mrs Bennet's and Mrs Philips' battle plans against Mr Bennet and Mr Collins. I'm amused by the concept myself and I hope that you are, too. Who else agrees with Elizabeth in that Mr Collins will undoubtedly play his role to perfection? Up next, it's Mr Bennet's turn at the helm. Think he'll be pleased at Darcy paying a visit at Longbourn? Yeah, me neither. :)
Haha, I just noticed an accidental (yet interesting) parallel. Mr Bennet once had to choose between two Fannys and Elizabeth is now being courted by two Williams (even if one of them is a Fitzwilliam). I hadn't really intended that, but it works! I think we can thank Jane Austen and her contemporaries for all being fond of the same names over and over again as well as coincidence.
Confession: I didn't mean to imply last chapter that Darcy and Lizzy were being watched in the woods, it was just a poorly worded paragraph which caused you all to think so. That said, instead of going back and changing it, I'm gonna steer into that skid and just include it in the story.
Next Update: June 12, 2020
Expected Completion: July 24, 2020
– MrsMarySmythe
Guest Review Responses – RE: Ch 24
I won't normally add this section to my author's notes, but sometimes a Guest Reviewer asks a question or makes a comment that I would like to respond to. Hence, the below.
Guest, May 29 – I was reading your comments to the 'Guest' reviewers and this struck me:
"Though I appreciate your pointing out a potential plot hole, I would like to remind you that the girls (and NOT Mrs Bennet) have merely acquiesced to his face; there's no proof as of yet that they're not going to do something to undermine Mr Bennet's moratorium on speaking of the Darcy/Elizabeth engagement in future chapters. Even if they stick to the letter of Mr Bennet's command, there are still other ways to thwart him, especially with their mother and aunt behind them."
I do have to agree with whichever 'Guest' said that the girls *wouldn't* agree to his moratorium, especially Elizabeth. She would absolutely refuse to go along with even the pretence of it because her compliance emboldens Mr Bennet into thinking there's a chance that she'll eventually agree, that she can't be as serious about marrying Darcy if she's prepared to not stand up for him there.
I personally feel that Elizabeth is often portrayed as more outspoken than she actually is. Compared to some of the other characters, she's actually very circumspect; recall how she holds her tongue in the face of mortification from her family and Lady Catherine's intrusive questioning at Rosings. She only lashes out when provoked, like during the Botched Proposal. And remember, the antagonist here is her father and she has been raised to honor and respect him; I can't see her speaking against him without greater provocation, such as earlier in the story when Bennet wouldn't explain to her why he was separating her from Darcy, or in the Austen original when she pleaded with him not to let Lydia go to Brighton. In both instances, they were in complete privacy and, in the latter, she bowed to his decision in spite of her continuing concern over the subject. Also, though I can't speak for everyone here, I know that I don't like to argue with my parents even when I feel like they're wrong/unfair; it makes me uncomfortable to alter our relationship by showing such aggression. I'm presently thirty-three and have been living apart from my parents for a long while now and I STILL feel this way, so I don't think it's unreasonable for a twenty-year-old still living at home to behave the same. And, in this particular instance, it would have been futile to argue and only sparked further quarrel within the household. That's the way I personally read her characterization, though I can appreciate where you're coming from. Thanks for the thoughtful comments :)