Battle of the Dragons Chapter 7, a pride and prejudice fanfic

~O~

Having met the family and many of the neighbours, Isabella thought it was time for a private conversation with her oldest niece.

She sent an invitation and, upon acceptance, her carriage to collect Mrs Bennet. Upon arrival at Hayes House, Mrs Bennet looked around eagerly, but it was soon evident that she was disappointed. After a brief tour of the public rooms she asked with a small frown, 'Is the décor not rather plain for a lady in your exalted position?'

'I prefer subtle elegance rather than ostentation. It is in much better taste,' Isabella replied as they took a seat in the small parlour, and she poured tea for them.

'But surely carved wood and gilding is elegant,' protested Fanny Bennet who had claimed the adjoining chair.

Isabella sighed and took her niece's hand. 'Fanny, excessive decoration is often the province of the nouveau riche. They believe that by flaunting their wealth they prove their importance.' She then grinned and added, 'Although sometimes it is simply because people have extremely bad taste. And I could name any number of noble families who are such afflicted.'

Fanny looked unconvinced as she took a sip of her tea. 'I was taught that elegance is expensive.'

'Indeed, it often is,' Isabella agreed. 'But the converse is not necessarily true. Just because something is expensive does not make it elegant, good quality or in good taste. I have often found that something expensive is simply an ostentatious waste of money.'

Fanny looked around the room still holding up her cup. 'But how could something plain be expensive?'

'Because it requires great attention to detail to ensure it is perfect. If something is as plain as these pieces of furniture, even the slightest imperfection is easy to see.' Isabella examined Fanny's dress as she added, 'It is easy to hide shoddy workmanship with excessive ornamentation.'

Mrs Bennet's eyes were drawn to the sleeve of her dress, on the arm she had raised to hold the cup, where the lace had fallen in such a way as to expose the stitching… the uneven stitching. She muttered, 'If there was no lace, that stitching would have stood out.'

She raised her horrified gaze to Isabella and said, 'Because I insisted on expensive lace, I received inferior dresses…'

'That is a mistake many people make,' Isabella said in a neutral tone of voice, letting her niece draw her own conclusions.

'I wanted to be an elegant lady to be a credit to my husband since he was a landed gentleman,' Fanny muttered, mostly to herself. After thinking for a few moments, she straightened up and added in a louder voice, 'All the ladies hereabout have lace on their dresses.'

'How much lace?'

That simple question gave Mrs Bennet pause and she slumped again. 'Not as much but I thought that was because they could not afford as much. After all, Longbourn is effectively the largest estate hereabouts as Mr Morris has not been in residence at Netherfield for many years.'

Mrs Bennet shook her head in frustration as she set down her cup. 'Why do you know these things and I do not?'

'I learnt from my mother, you learnt from yours. They came from very different backgrounds. I confess that in the arrogance of my youth, I felt my brother could have chosen better. As I matured, I decided that as long as she made him happy, my opinion was irrelevant.'

Happy to change to a more comfortable subject, Fanny regaled her aunt with stories about her father.

~O~

Over the next hour, Fanny became ever more relaxed around her aunt.

As a result, she asked a question which had been niggling at her since their first meeting. 'Why were you so harsh with Lydia the other day?'

'Because her behaviour and attitude were quite unsuitable for polite society. If she had continued on in this manner, she would have ruined herself and the rest of your family within months if not weeks.'

'Surely you are exaggerating. Lydia is just a lovely, lively girl, just the kind that an officer is likely to fall in love with.'

'Fanny, as I told Lydia, young officers cannot afford to marry, and her behaviour suggested that they could have their way with her without marriage. You know, you did her no favours filling her head with stories about dashing officers. And the idea that she would be ready to marry at the age of fifteen is utterly ridiculous. In retrospect, I was barely ready at the age of seventeen but at least I had a proper education and accomplishments, as well as a good idea of what was required of the mistress of an estate or at least a home.'

'But we have that entail hanging over us. My girls have to marry before Mr Bennet dies.' A few tears escaped Mrs Bennet's eyes. 'But no matter what I do, no man wants to marry my daughters. I keep hoping Jane's beauty and Lydia's liveliness would attract rich husbands to look after the others. But since even my two prettiest girls have been unsuccessful, what hope do the others have.'

'What makes those girls better than your middle daughters?'

'They are beautiful. Men always want beauty. Only Mr Collins was stupid enough that he was willing to overlook Lizzy's shortcomings after I spent days working to convince him that she would be a suitable bride. But then that Lizzy has the nerve to reject the proposal which could have saved us all.'

Isabella listened in disbelief to her niece's rant. 'Fanny, it is not Elizabeth's responsibility to save the family, as you call it. That has been your and Bennet's responsibility for the past twenty odd years and you both have failed miserably.'

'What do you mean? I tried to birth a son. I went through five hellish pregnancies and endless agonies during their births and none of those girls cooperated. At least one of them should have been a boy.'

'Neither you, nor Bennet and most definitely not the girls had control over their sex. But when you had all those girls, you and your husband should have saved to provide money for the future. For dowries, for funds for you all to live on. That was something over which you had control. Instead, you have wasted every penny on fripperies like excessive lace on too may useless dresses.'

'The girls need to be well dressed to attract rich husbands.'

'A dowry is more likely to attract a husband than excessive lace.' Isabella gave a sigh of frustration. 'I am afraid you are going about things the wrong way. I believe you when you say that you want your daughters to get married.'

'I do.'

'Then why do you insist on driving all their potential suitors away?'

'I do no such thing.'

'But you do. No man wants to be hounded by the mother of a young woman in whom he is interested. It makes him wonder what is wrong with the young lady that she is so desperate to catch a husband.'

'I am but promoting my Jane.'

'From what I hear, you are pushing her at anything in breeches while denigrating your other daughters especially Elizabeth.'

'But it is true. Lizzy is nothing to Jane.'

'How would you feel if you were told every day of your life that you are nothing to your sister.'

'I am being told every day that I am nothing to Lizzy,' cried Mrs Bennet in sudden fury. 'Why should I be the only one to suffer.'

Isabella suddenly saw the true problem in the Bennet family… Thomas Bennet. But that still did not justify Fanny's behaviour. 'How dare you. Just because you made a bad choice in marrying Bennet, does not give you the right to take it out on your daughters. It is not Elizabeth's fault that you were a fool. What kind of a mother are you?'

The silence after that outburst was deafening.

The two women glared at each other, and both were breathing hard as if they had run a race. They continued this staring contest for at least a full minute until suddenly Mrs Bennet slumped back into her chair and averted her eyes.

She had turned pale as she whispered, 'According to you, a bad one.' She took another breath and added, 'And you would be right,' before bursting into tears.

Isabella felt somewhat guilty that the conversation had gone so far out of hand. She passed a handkerchief to her niece. 'I am sorry that I was so harsh.'

After wiping her tears and blowing her nose, Mrs Bennet shook her head and confessed, 'What did you say that was not true. She is so much like him. Sometimes I cannot help myself, I lash out at her when her father was particularly difficult. Not that she cannot be difficult all on her own. But she does not deserve to bear the brunt of my problems with her father. How could I do that to my girl whom I love so dearly.'

She was about to say more, when they were interrupted.

~O~

Elizabeth had gone for another one of her long rambles. While she was pleased that her youngest sisters were not allowed to associate with the officers anymore, it meant that they spent their days at home. As a consequence, all the residents were forced to endure their endless squabbles.

As it was the middle of December, she had thought it advisable not to stray too far afield in case the weather changed for the worse. Instead she had walked a long loop along the lanes. Without planning on it, her path had taken her to Hayes House.

Hoping for some pleasant company, intelligent conversation and perhaps some hot tea to warm up, Elizabeth knocked on the door.

As the staff already knew her, the footman took her outerwear and informed her that Isabella was in the small parlour.

Saying, 'I know the way, do not trouble yourself,' Elizabeth set off towards the back of the house where Isabella's favourite parlour was located. As she approached the door, Elizabeth realised that it must not be closed properly as she heard voices.

She had raised her hand to knock and announce herself when the words coming from the room arrested her motion.

It seemed that Aunt Isabella was berating her mother for her attitude towards herself and Mrs Bennet's complaints about her rejection of Collins.

Elizabeth knew it was wrong to listen to a private conversation, but she could not have moved no matter what. She was fascinated and grateful that their aunt was saying the things which Elizzabeth had felt but could not bring herself to say.

She felt almost gleeful that for once her mother appeared to be listening to a voice more forceful than her own.

Suddenly all glee vanished when Mrs Bennet cried, 'I am being told every day that I am nothing to Lizzy. Why should I be the only one to suffer.'

She was as frozen as the occupants of the room in the aftermath of the confrontation. For years she had struggled to understand why her mother had singled her out for what seemed to be her specific ire.

And while she never confronted her mother about her attitude, Elizabeth admitted to herself that in retaliation she had used some of her father's tactics in dealing with her mother. It appeared that those sarcastic comments had made the situation even worse.

For years she had been her father's favourite and almost worshipped the ground he walked on, but ever more frequently, she had seen aspects of his behaviour which made her wonder. But she refused to think badly of him.

Yet hearing her mother's agonised cry, made her see the truth.

She knew how hurtful it was to be belittled. Her mother was not a mental giant, but if Mr Bennet had guided her instead of making sport of her, she might have improved. If she had improved, she would not have had as many reasons to be vexed with Lizzy.

While all of them shared some of the blame, the root cause for their problems hid in the library of Longbourn, only coming out long enough to cause mischief.

Without thinking, she burst into the parlour and cried, 'Oh, mama. I am sorry I upset you, but I was so hurt thinking you did not love me.'

As Elizabeth rushed into the room, Mrs Bennet jumped to her feet and moving towards her she opened her arms to embrace her distraught daughter.

'I am sorry, Lizzy. Your aunt was right. I was wrong to take my frustration out on you,' Mrs Bennet said as she held her daughter, ignoring the tears which were again coursing down her cheeks.

They stood in this embrace while the emotional storm passed. When they eventually separated, Isabella waved them to take seats and handed each of them a fresh cup of tea.

'It seems that we have most serendipitously cleared the air,' Isabella said with a smile. 'Although I am sorry about the pain which I caused you.'

'Lancing a boil always is always painful. But once it is lanced there is a chance to heal,' Mrs Bennet said with a sigh, cautiously glancing at her daughter. 'Lizzy, I will try to do better, but I cannot promise to always succeed.'

'I too will try to mind my tongue, but please remember, it is hard to break a lifetime of habits.'

'We shall both try to remember that as well,' Mr Bennet said with a hopeful smile.

When Isabella went to bed that night, she thought, perhaps there could be a benefit to acting like a dragon at times.

~O~

A/N: This was the last chapter I have ready. I expect I will post less frequently from now on.

~O~