Ever since she could walk, Elodie Bennet had expectations set upon her, expectations that all young women had. As the second eldest, she was meant to care for her younger sisters and do what was asked of her without complaining.
This also meant...
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INHERITANCE.
"Mamma, someone keeps knocking on the door... I'm indecent I cannot answer it, Mary! Jane! Elodie!"
Elodie huffed and stood up from her place on the chaise as Lydia hollered through the house. "Stop screaming, Liddy, I'll get it! Any louder and you'll become mother!" She shouted back, the knocking on the door becoming more frequent and more sharp.
Any harder and this visitor would put a dent in their old house.
The moment she opened the door and saw who it was, she could tell she would come to regret it. A short, greasy looking man stood on the other side of the doorframe with books stacked a mile high in one arm and a chest of belongings in the other.
His mouth was slightly agape as he took in the sight of Elodie, who wrapped her cream-colored shawl tighter around her shoulders.
"Why, an angel!" He commented, and she had to hold back a sneer of disgust as he reached for her hand to place a peck upon it. "Mr. Collins, at your service!" Her smile dropped as Elodie realized that this was the cousin her father spoke of.
Let's just say he was not quite what she expected.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Collins. We've been expecting you!" Attempting to be polite, she grabbed some of his books in her arms and let him inside. "Allow me to help you with your things. Your room is just upstairs."
By now, all of the Bennets had wandered into the hallway to see who had been assaulting their door and were watching with uncomfortable stances.
"Mr. Collins! You're just in time for dinner!" Mrs Bennet let him set his things down before they traveled into the dining room, Mr. Collins sitting right between Elodie and Jane.
Elodie shifted awkwardly in her chair as the grimy man helped himself to a plate of potatoes, pork, and greens. She thought it was a rather generous amount but held her tongue. Jane was outwardly composed as usual and her younger sister wondered how she managed to do that.
A grunt of approval spilled from his lips as he bit into the food, gaze traveling from face to face.
"What excellent boiled potatoes." He said with a cheap grin, though his voice was horribly monotonous and boring. "It has been many years since I've had such an exemplary vegetable. Which of my fair cousins should I compliment the excellence of the cooking?"
