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"Well, personally, I find it all very vexing." "Scandalous," one of the other ladies agrees, nodding enough that Mr. Bennet has some fear that her head might bob right off her spindly neck. He keeps his eyes resolutely on his book, not looking away from the page, though he can see the flashes of movement from the corner of his eyes. "I have heard," she looks around and drops her voice, though the dramatic whisper is quite enough to carry across the room, "it was most improper." "Absolutely," Mrs. Bennet agrees wholeheartedly, rattling her spoon against the saucer of her teacup. "To think that such behaviour should be happening. So close to our homes. Why, it's as if the devil himself has come to call." "I doubt very much the devil would come for tea," Mr. Bennet mumbles under his breath, earning himself a sharp look from his wife. "Rumour has it." One of the other ladies stirs sugar into her tea and looks around, making sure all eyes are on her. "That she did it deliberately." "Preposterous!" Mrs. Bennet nearly quivers with indignance. "No self-respecting young lady would ever do such a thing." There is no small amount of silence as the respect of the lady in question is called into question. Judgment is passed along with the biscuits as the whispers begin again, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "I heard she was drenched. Head to toe." "Her dress was clinging to her. I fear it is completely ruined." "Much like her reputation. To think that she was alone with him in that house for hours. Hours! And without so much as a servant in sight. I cannot imagine what she might have been thinking." "There was no thinking involved, I'm quite sure." Mrs. Bennet glares in Mr. Bennet's direction as he leans over the edge of his chair to steal a biscuit from the tray, reaching over to slap his hand lightly. His eyebrows lift and she relents with something of a smile, though only when he chooses something other than the lemon biscuit. "Obviously she was overcome by the storm and wandered in hoping the house would be deserted. She was not to know that he was there ahead of schedule and without anyone's notice." "One would think the solicitor would have known and had someone there. It's simply unheard of." "And yet here we sit, hearing of it." Mrs. Bennet casts Mr. Bennet another glare, this one designed, quite implicitly, to silence him. "Well, it's clear now that they'll be no recourse but for them to marry." "Especially caught in the state they were in." The eldest of the ladies shakes her head, disappointment writ plain across her face. "Disgraceful." "Yes," Mr. Bennet finally speaks up, loud enough for the ladies to hear. "Better that she continued on in the rain, soaked to the skin and likely to catch her death than risk impropriety by seeking warmth and shelter." Mrs. Bennet gives him a look, this time pleading for his silence. He expels a breath and stands, gathering a handful of lemon biscuits. "I'll leave you ladies to plot out her ruination." Several of the ladies nod, the eldest speaking again. "You know, you're so terribly fortunate, Mrs. Bennet, to have a husband who understands the way things work." Mrs. Bennet nods as well, watching her husband's eyebrows rise dangerously as he reaches the door. "I am, indeed, Mrs. Philpot. Most fortunate indeed." |
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