Author's Note: Sorry for the wait on this one, lovely readers. I am so encouraged by how many people are following this story, and tremendously thankful for the reviews! :) Fans of the novel will see a bit more digression here with the character of Mr. Collins; I hope you like it. (crosses fingers)

Many thanks to lastincurableromantic for her beta services.

Rose awoke the next morning with less than her usual cheerfulness. She had slept poorly, troubled by all that had been revealed at the dance, as well as a strange sense of foreboding. Still bleary-eyed and yawning, she joined the rest of the family at breakfast, where she quietly nursed her tea. Donna, noting her silence and the slight shadows beneath her eyes, cast a worried glance in her direction. Eventually awake enough to handle more than the cup before her, Rose caught Donna's questioning look and made an attempt to shrug off the cloud hanging over her. She gave a reassuring smile, shaking her head, and Donna relaxed a little. She knew something was still off, but Rose was not one for hiding things from her, and she would know before long.

Breakfast was soon over, and Rose had already adjourned to the sitting-room with her book. Jackie and Lynda were eagerly recalling the extravagant gowns they'd seen at the ball, particularly those worn by Mr. Harkness' sisters. Rose desperately wanted a chance to speak with Donna in private. By the time they had returned last night, it had been so late that they had barely made it out of their dresses before collapsing onto their beds in exhaustion.

The sound of someone clearing his throat from the doorway caused all three ladies to look up. Mr. Collins hesitated there, looking rather uncomfortable but determined. "I wonder, Mrs. Tyler, if you might allow me a private conversation with Miss Rose?" he queried, inclining his head slightly. He spoke with great importance, and the ominous cloud Rose had felt earlier grew darker, pressing down upon her.

She could feel the beginnings of panic race through her. Her eyes flew from Mickey's waiting form to Jackie, who held her gaze and nodded firmly, a warning in her eyes. 'You know how much this means to us. Don't blow it.' Jackie then quickly rose, urging Lynda ahead of her. Lynda seemed reluctant, not missing the way Rose's eyes pleaded silently for her to stay, but their mother was unyielding. "Of course, Mr. Collins. Lynda and I were just about to go outside and gather some flowers, weren't we?"

"Please stay, Mum. I'm sure whatever Mr. Collins has to say to me cannot require you to leave. Please," Rose begged.

"Don't be silly, Rose. You will stay and hear him out, dear," she admonished her daughter. With that they bustled from the room, leaving Rose alone with Mr. Collins.

Though she had jumped to her feet in her desire to flee, Rose closed her eyes tightly and sat once again, struggling to remain calm. Please don't do it, please don't ask, her mind entreated him.

Mickey cleared his throat again nervously, then began what sounded like a very practiced speech. "I'm sure you can guess my intentions, dear cousin, for wishing to speak with you this way. In my short time here you have won me over completely, and I hope that you will soon consent to be my wife."

When Rose, who had indeed gone quite still, refused to meet his eyes, he forged ahead. "I'm not at all troubled by your show of modesty; in fact, in only adds to your many charms. I think you might wonder at my reasons for marrying, so... First, I think it right for a clergyman to set the example for his flock. Second, I think it will make me quite happy. And third, it was most kindly urged by my honorable patroness. She told me to find a good, helpful girl, proper but not too fastidious. I immediately thought of your family and of the good I could achieve by looking here first." In a softer, more earnest voice he continued, "And I find you clever and amiable, and I'm sure we will learn to be happy together."

Rose finally met his eyes, and her heart broke to see the honesty and kindness she had suspected was hidden there, beneath all the foppish formality. This was not how she'd meant to discover it, though. She did not want to hurt him, but it could no longer be helped. She tried to make her response as gentle as she could. "I am very honored, cousin, by your thoughtful proposal, but I must refuse."

Mickey tugged a bit at his collar. "I've heard that it is common for a woman to reject her suitor at first, desiring to be wooed further before she accepts his offer. I can be both patient and persistent, if that's what you want."

Taking a deep breath, Rose fought back her sympathy and frustration with this man. "Please don't, sir! I would never treat a man in such a heartless way!" she exclaimed. "You are my relation, and I wish only the best for you, but I am sure we would not be happy together. Please, do not press this any further."

A touch of hurt showed on his face as he began to accept the honesty of her refusal. "But... surely you noticed my attentions to you?" He looked down at his hands, his voice faltering. "I do like you, Rose, and... and I thought this arrangement would help us both."

She wanted to take his hands in hers, but knew that such sisterly impulses had helped foster their current unhappy predicament. Instead she tried to infuse her words with the sincerity and regret she felt. "I am so sorry, Mr. Collins, if you feel I encouraged you in these feelings. I care for you, but only as your cousin. Your intentions were very honorable, and you should feel no further guilt about the entailment. You've done more than your share to try to mend it."

He received her assurance in silence, his eyes still downcast. "It's him, isn't it?" he asked after a lengthy pause.

Him? What on earth...? "I'm sorry?" Could he possibly have guessed at her feelings for Mr. Saxon? Surely not.

"Mr. Smith." He hesitated a bit before finding the courage to meet her eyes again, but she saw resolution there. She could only imagine the surprise in her own. "I saw you dancing with him, and the way he looked at- ... He is a very respected man, Miss Rose, but you should know that he is betrothed to another, to Lady Yvonne's daughter."

Rose gaped at him in shock. Mr. Smith? She almost laughed aloud at the conclusions he'd drawn but was more moved by his obvious desire to protect her, regardless of the pain and humiliation she'd caused him. "No," she replied once she'd recovered, "I have no inclination to marry at all at present, though I truly appreciate your concern."

Mickey nodded and rose, bowing stiffly before quickly exiting the scene of his disappointment.

Rose sat in the now still room, overwhelmed by what had just happened. Her respite lasted only a minute before she heard Jackie's cry of outrage, and she steeled herself for the battle to come. But the worst of it, which whispered that she deserved her mother's wrath, was the feeling of regret in the pit of her stomach - not for turning him down, but for hurting him in this way, unconscious though it might have been.

She could hear Jackie's voice carrying down the hall. "Don't fret, Mr. Collins. She's a stubborn girl. She gets too easily caught up in those dreams of hers to see what's good and solid right in front of her. Cool your heels a moment. I'll set her straight."

"Please, Mrs. Tyler, don't trouble yourself or Miss Rose any further. I am not that foolish. I will stay on, but ask that no further mention be made of this. I have no wish to be rejected again." The hurt was clearly there, making her wince, but Rose felt proud of the way he stood up to her mother's interfering. Soon she heard the front door close and observed him walking towards the gardens, deep in thought.

Upon being summoned to her father's library, Rose found her mother properly riled and pacing in front of an admirably calm Pete Tyler. "She thinks she's so high and mighty. Doesn't she realize what she's passing up?" Seeing the shift in her husband's focus, she rounded angrily on Rose. "Mr. Collins is a good and decent man, and you're being foolish, holding on to those ideals of yours, Rose! And you're not just hurtin' yourself, either!"

Jackie saw her words hit their mark as Rose's face fell, momentarily thinking of the security that she was denying her sisters. But no, that wasn't fair, holding her responsible for some rubbish law, and her eyes snapped back up as Jackie continued. "Talk some sense into her, Pete. I don't know how much longer he'll wait, since she already turned him down."

Pete considered the scene before him, steepling his fingers thoughtfully under his chin. "Just so I'm clear... Mr. Collins proposed to you, Rose?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you turned him down?"

"I did," she replied.

"I believe that your mother would strongly urge you to reconsider, am I right, dear?" he asked, now addressing his wife.

"She will, or I will never speak to her again."

Pete considered a playful response as to the merits of that option, but wisely admitted it was not the time. Even in this crisis he could see Rose shared his amusement, which returned his attention to the matter at hand. He knew her compassionate nature was touched by their peculiar relation, but he honestly could not see his Rose happily married to him. Besides which, and more importantly, she seemed to share his opinion. To him there was only one choice to make, for which he was sure he would pay dearly. "I'm sorry to say that you will lose either way, Rosie, as your mother will never speak to you again if you don't accept him, and I will never speak to you if you do."

Jackie spluttered at his unexpected reply, and Rose sent him a thankful smile as she escaped from the room and Jackie's imminent wrath.

The remainder of the morning passed far too slowly for Rose. True to her word, Jackie did not so much as look at her after the confrontation in the library, turning to her other daughters for sympathy. Mickey withdrew into himself, and while always polite, was much less talkative than he had been previously. Rose and Donna wandered outside to escape the tense atmosphere and were delighted to spy Martha walking down the lane. After Rose shared the unfortunate events of the morning, receiving the comfort and support of her two dearest friends, the girls returned dutifully to the house.

Jackie greeted Martha warmly while blatantly ignoring Rose, who stood right beside her. "I s'pose she's filled you in, then. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. Marrying Mr. Collins would earn her security and respect. A decent, normal life, but is that good enough for her? Oh, no! All those fanciful ideas about falling in love and traveling the world," she railed, rolling her eyes at the apparent ridiculousness of such notions. "Why you'd think she was a proper lady, with all the airs and graces she puts on."

Her speech was cut off by the entrance of Mr. Collins, who despite his discomfort asked respectfully after Martha and her family. He gave a genuine smile of relief upon seeing her, remembering her kindness to him at the Torchwood ball and feeling more than ready for a distraction. Rose once again felt a swelling of gratitude towards her friend. While nothing would move her to change her answer, it pained her to cause him such unhappiness. Soon he and Martha were tucked away in a corner of the parlor, chatting quite easily. After receiving Jackie's rather reluctant consent, Martha extended an invitation for Mr. Collins to spend the rest of his visit with her family, which he quickly and rather eagerly accepted. When they left later that afternoon, the house breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Feeling rather indebted to her friend's generous nature, Rose had just settled down to work on a handkerchief she'd been embroidering for Martha when Jackie entered the room. Bracing herself for more scolding, Rose looked up in surprise a moment later when her mother took a seat beside her on the sofa. Her looks still quite stern, Jackie sighed. However foolish she thought them, she loved her children dearly; it's why she fought so hard to do right by them. "You're sure about this, Rose?"

"I care about him, Mum. I do. But not like that. We wouldn't make each other happy. I don't want to just settle, 'cause we both deserve better than that." It was one of those precious moments when Jackie's compassion shone through her brashness, and Rose searched her mother's eyes earnestly, wanting her to understand.

Regret was plain in her mother's face, but understanding was there, too. "I know it, sweetheart. Knew it from the start, really. Doesn't mean I don't regret it, though. Can't help wanting what's best for ya."

Thankful for whatever had caused her mum's change of heart, Rose fell into her arms, pulling her into a fierce hug. Surprised but pleased, Jackie wrapped her arms around her daughter with a smile. "Well, then. Didn't last very long, did I? S'pose it'll all work out, somehow. Least we've still got Mr. Harkness."

Rose had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Saxon the next morning when she and her sisters ventured into town. As he joined them in walking to their aunt's, he apologized for his absence at the ball. "The more I thought about it, the less ready I felt to meet Mr. Smith again. And I was afraid that any confrontation between us might make others uncomfortable as well."

Rose smirked slightly, thinking that a little more drama really wouldn't have made much difference. But then she remembered the storm she'd seen in Mr. Smith's dark eyes and conceded that perhaps he was right. "Of course," she replied. "Though I daresay you were missed, by most of us anyway."

He smiled at that, and they had a pleasant walk home. Rose beamed under his devoted attention and had the honor of introducing him to her parents. Jackie, who had heard such wonderful accounts of him, was quickly won over by his charm, and Pete found him quite easy and entertaining to talk with.

Shortly thereafter, a note arrived for Donna from Torchwood. A happy flush spread across Donna's face as she swiftly opened it and began to read. With mounting concern Rose watched the color just as quickly recede from her sister's face, leaving it almost unnaturally pale, her hands trembling as she studied the letter before her. Closing her eyes for a moment, Donna quietly tucked the note away and attempted to join the conversation, but her thoughts were obviously elsewhere. Rose no longer had patience for anything else, not even Mr. Saxon's company; she desired only to rush to her sister's side and comfort and protect her from whatever had shaken her so badly.

When Mr. Saxon left, Rose followed Donna upstairs to their room to avoid being overheard. "It's from Reinette Harkness. I... they've gone, Rose. They've gone, and they're not coming back." Her voice faltered as she met Rose's gaze, confusion and sadness etched across her face. "She says that 'she will miss little about this place except our friendship,' though she hopes we can remain friends despite the distance between us."

Rose blinked, caught off-guard by this development. "Well, I'm sorry your friends left so hastily, but Mr. Harkness will return soon, at least."

"Reinette seems to think that his business will keep him in London longer than he thought, and that he will be quite happy to remain in town once he's there. They followed so that he would not have to be alone. She wishes me a happy Christmas, and hopes that I will have so many admirers that I will hardly notice their absence. So you see, it is quite fixed."

"I see only that she hopes to keep him there," Rose replied, trying to hold back her irritation at the meddling hidden within the words.

Hurt, along with the slightest hint of anger, colored Donna's voice as she continued. "Oh, but there's more. 'Mr. Smith is eager to see his sister again. She is all a young lady should be: lovely, elegant, and accomplished. Cassandra and I love her dearly, and Jack has always been fond of her. With all the time they will now spend together and the ease with which my brother can capture a woman's heart, is it wrong of me to hope for that happy event which will soon allow me to call her my sister?' "

The resignation on Donna's face as she spoke was harder for Rose to handle than anything else. "Reinette does not wish or expect me to ever be her sister. Her brother obviously harbors no special feelings for me, and, if she does suspect my own feelings, she now hopes to let me down gently."

"Can I tell you what I think?" Rose asked, her eyes sparking dangerously.

"Of course."

"Reinette sees that Jack is in love with you, but wants him to marry Miss Smith. She chases after him, hoping to keep him in town and make you think it was all in your imagination." When Donna still seemed doubtful, Rose grew adamant. "Anyone who saw you two together could tell he cares for you, Donna! Miss Harkness would start sending out wedding invitations if Mr. Smith was half as in love with her as Mr. Harkness is with you! But in her eyes we are not good enough for them, just poor, uncouth country folk. Perhaps she even imagines she could turn it into a double wedding."

At that thought, Rose gave an unladylike snort. "I almost feel sorry for her. But believe me, Donna, she will not be able to talk him out of loving you."

"But... I can't believe she would act like that, deceiving us all so! Perhaps she has deceived herself, and truly believes he doesn't care for me."

"Not likely," Rose muttered, but aloud she said, "Then she is blind. I know you consider her your friend, so believe that if you must, since you won't believe me. Just don't worry anymore, okay?"

Donna tilted her head to the side, considering, and Rose noticed some of the color had returned to her face. "How could I truly be happy, even if we are right, if his sisters and friends wished he were with someone else?"

Rose bit back a smile. "I guess you'd have to decide, then. If it hurt too much to disappoint his sisters, then I suppose you'd have to refuse him," she quipped, her tongue peeking out teasingly.

Donna grinned and smacked her arm. "Oi! What do you take me for?"

" 'S what I thought." She rubbed at her arm, pretending to wince in pain. "Jack is an intelligent man and free to make his own choices. I refuse to believe that Reinette's opinion will keep him anywhere he doesn't want to be, especially when he seemed so unwilling to leave. He will be back."

Happily, Donna seemed comforted by Rose's reassurances, and together they hoped that he would soon return to Torchwood. They did not speak again of anything beyond his returning, as they'd already entertained the idea of that possible blissful future more than they usually would have dared. Hope burned silently within them, however, dimmed only slightly by Jackie's unhappiness at finding the whole party had left town.

With all that had gone awry in the last couple of days, it would have been so easy to fall into regret or despair. Instead Rose approached it with her usual optimism. Hope is a good emotion, she thought. I quite like hope.