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She indicated the cuff. He looked down, withdrew the biscuit with the grave care of a magistrate producing evidence, and set it on the table.

"I had hoped you had not observed that."

"I observe very little. It is my chief recommendation."

He divided it and offered her the larger half. The biscuit was stale; his embarrassment delighted her. No one had instructed her to admire it.

She was about to say so when her feet turned her toward the door. She caught the edge of the table, but her fingers released it. The narrative had finished with the ball, whether she had finished speaking or not.

"It's starting," she said. "The proposal is coming. Tomorrow, probably."

"Remember—refuse once, firmly, and try to leave."

"I shall tell you whether I reach the door."

Her feet carried her toward her family. The ball was ending. Major plot points approaching. But she'd made Caroline Bingley almost laugh. And that felt like a victory.

CHAPTER 9

Elizabeth woke to Hill knocking at her door with an urgent message: her father wished to see her in his library.

Elizabeth sat up. The Collins proposal scene.

Refuse once, then leave. She repeated the plan on her way downstairs, where her father was barely containing his laughter.

"Lizzy, my dear. Mr. Collins has requested permission to address you on a matter of great importance. I believe he means to propose marriage."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm aware. However, I'm required by narrative convention to make you hear him out." Mr. Bennet's eyes twinkled. "Do try not to laugh directly in his face. I shall be listening at the door for my own entertainment."

"Papa, you're terrible."

"I'm a stock character. Detached, ironic father who finds amusement in chaos. It's my defining trait."

Elizabeth blinked. "Are you... aware?"

Her father looked momentarily confused. "Aware of what? Collins's ridiculousness? My dear, everyone is aware of that."

"Never mind."

Her father had evaded the question. Elizabeth could not tell whether he had misunderstood it or preferred not to answer.

She found herself in the drawing room, where Mr. Collins stood wringing his hands with dramatic fervor. The scene was beginning whether she liked it or not.

"My dear cousin Elizabeth," he began. "Before I am run away with by my feelings⁠—"

Too late for that, Elizabeth thought.

"—perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying."

"Mr. Collins, I really don't need to hear⁠—"

Her mouth clamped shut. She would have to hear him out.

Fine. But I'm going to document every ridiculous word.

Collins Proposal: Live Documentation