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The building was not nearly as magnificent as the grandeur of Rosings, and the grounds appeared to be merely adequate.

Moving his gaze to his relations before him, it gladdened him to see that the women who would be under his control were very comely.

Their clothes lacked the ornate style of Lady Catherine de Bourgh or her daughter; it pleased Wilberforce to find that they naturally recognized and maintained the differences in their social rankings.

Mrs. Bennet saw he was not paying attention to the introductions but instead had been ogling her daughters’ figures. Yes, the girls would share rooms for the duration of his stay. “Mr. Collins?” She got his attention this time at least.

“You are too kind.” Mr. Collins relied on this phrase whenever he became lost in a conversation and found it worked all most every time.

“If you would follow me, good sir, I can escort you to your room myself. I am sure that you would like to rest and refresh yourself after a long journey. One of the staff will bring up your trunk.” She twirled around and gestured to the house, encouraging him to follow her and leave her daughters behind.

“Yes, that would be acceptable.” Mr. Collins followed the matron into the house, looking around with a calculating air.

From his spot in front of the house, Mr. Bennet observed his cousin’s covetous demeanor and smiled.

This was going to be an enjoyable two weeks.

He had not been blind to the leering stare Collins ran over his daughters.

That made room for some interesting possibilities.

He would find much gratification from the coming interactions.

Mr. Bennet felt no one would be comfortable until his cousin departed and that suited him just fine.

He had long ago decided that if he could not have what he truly wanted, no one else need to get what they wanted either.

Over the years of his exile from the shining halls of intelligent society, he learned to find diversion where he could.

It was often in the flinches and unhappiness of those around him, and his cousin would provide great fodder for his amusement this fortnight.

Mary was trying to have some kind of conversation at the dinner table.

The nervous silence was maddening. “As a clergyman in charge of a parish, how do you go about composing the sermons you give?” She knew that speaking might benefit whatever her father’s plot was, but at least it was no longer silent.

Choking slightly when he attempted to speak with food in his mouth, Mr. Collins swallowed.

He then began talking about one of his favorite subjects.

“I have the immense benefit of having Lady Catherine de Bourgh as my patroness, and she, in her beneficence, allows me to present the sermons she chooses. She occasionally will even write a sermon if she feels a subject would be of benefit to my parish. Such is the magnitude of her bountiful supremacy. Last week, I presented her sermon on recognizing one’s betters.

” Finally stopping for breath, he shoved another forkful of meat into his open maw.

Proud of his patroness and his ability to help her, he smiled broadly around a mouthful of ham.

It astonished Mary to see the arrogance with which Mr. Collins celebrated his violation of canon law. “Oh, that is not something I would have predicted.” How could a man with schooling and ordination still be this ignorant?

Mary Bennet’s derision went unnoticed as Mr. Collins beamed at her with a delighted grin.

He had a large piece of something green stuck between his teeth.

Unperturbed, he continued on with the glories of his patroness.

“Lady Catherine’s determination to intervene and oversee the lives of those beneath her has been a surprise to many.

She has, even in her wisdom, suggested that I put shelves in all my closets.

” He extended his arm across the table and scooped up a helping of kippers and onions, piling them atop his ham.

Whenever onions were served, he would dig in, relishing their strong flavor.

At home, he required them at every meal, as his saintly father had often spoken of their healthful properties.

Elizabeth feared she might start wasting away if she faced Mr. Collins’s habits at every meal. “Shelves in the closet, Mr. Collins? I do not see how that would not crease all of your clothes.” She goggled at the foolery.

“Very much so. Lady Catherine is of the belief that it ensures your servants are caring for your clothes as they should. They must scrutinize the outfit while ironing out the creases.” He brought another forkful to his mouth so overloaded by the onions that he left a trail across the tablecloth.

Smacking his lips in enjoyment, he belched loudly, thoroughly satisfied with the meal.

Frowning, Mary spoke up against the absurd notion. “That would be a tremendous amount of extra and unnecessary work.” She continued to be aghast by his appalling table manners and the interference displayed by Lady Catherine.

Mr. Collins had finally noticed the upset and confused expressions on his cousins’ faces.

He felt it was his duty to reassure them.

“That is what they are there for, to do my bidding. I get to choose how they spend their time, just as Lady Catherine chooses things for me. It is the divine order of things. I do not expect a young lady such as yourself to comprehend the correct order of things. Do not worry, it is not your place to understand; it is simply your place to obey.” The teachings of Lady Catherine always made him feel powerful.

Realizing that the ladies had ceased to speak, he refocused on his meal, only pausing to breathe and wipe his mouth occasionally on his sleeve.

Across the table, Mary and Elizabeth sat, both thunderstruck.

The repugnance of the man before them was astounding in every way.

His inability to eat with any decorum coupled with his views on the world made having him at the table something that would prove difficult to endure.

Further down the table, Jane sat with her serviette covering her nose and mouth, trying to manage her reaction to the display.

At the foot of the table, Mrs. Bennet spent her time coming up with plans to protect her girls from the creature sitting next to her husband.

Mr. Bennet spent his energy trying not to laugh and ruin the current display.

This was better than he had hoped. His cousin was a sycophant who was both servile and pompous.

How was that even possible? He did not know how, but it was hilarious!

From the man’s rambling letter, it sounded like he wanted to unite the two branches of the family back into one by marrying one of his daughters.

But who to choose? Jane’s beauty was too exquisite for the small parish, but her tranquil attitude would keep her from becoming too disheartened.

Lydia would be so young and incompetent that things would be in shambles, but who was to say that the buffoon would even understand that?

Elizabeth was intelligent enough to understand just how incompetent he was and yet she could not counteract his dictates.

In return, she could make his life as miserable as possible.

The thought of Elizabeth marrying the foolish nincompoop filled him with a strange excitement.

In Mrs. Bennet’s sitting room, they gathered to devise strategies to counter any problems that might occur.

They all agreed that spending as little time as possible with their cousin would be for the best. She had warned the girls from a young age that material comfort was not always a guarantee of safety when choosing a man.

There was more to life than the quality of the table one set.

Being able to hold one’s head up at home and living without fear was better than any china set or opulent seating.

Mrs. Bennet thought her daughters would be safest far from the house.

Elizabeth and Kitty would go out visiting Charlotte and Maria, while Jane and Lydia would visit the expectant mothers.

Mrs. Bennet and Mary would be going into town to get supplies, freeing up some servants to deal with the extra work that Mr. Collins brought.

Hopefully by staying out of his way as much as possible and always in pairs, they would stay sane.

There were only ten days until he returned to his parish.

“But what are we to do the next day and the next?” fretted Kitty.

Fanny hugged her daughter close. She understood that it was not what happened now that worried her.

It was whatever Mr. Bennet had planned. He feasted on the minutiae of people’s misery, the very antithesis of Jane.

Mrs. Bennet worried about her second youngest child, so fearful by nature.

She could only give her love and support and hope she would find her way.

“We will take it one day at a time, my dear. Even if we must, by necessity, spend time with Mr. Collins, it will never be alone. You will always be with one of us.” Kissing her daughter’s brow, she prayed Kitty would one day find her fire.

Charlotte smoothed her hair back from her face as she greeted her unexpected guests.

“Oh, it is always a pleasure to have you visit, no matter the time. How are you, Kitty?” she inquired.

As she glanced around, she felt a sense of satisfaction that everything in the room was as it should be.

Although it was not as grand as the Bennet family’s parlor, it had its own unique touches of charm and style.

Even though the Bennet sisters were practically family, she still wanted to maintain her dignity.

She would not want to be seen in an unpleasant light.