Mistletoe and Mischief

by Jann Rowland

  “A rewarding beginning to the day,” was Mr. Darcy’s statement to Mr. Bingley as they entered the room.

  “Where might this reward be found?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Mr. Bingley was my company on a mission to present the good residents of Longbourn with gifts of aid and esteem,” answered Mr. Darcy. “This is the second part of my father’s legacy which I have continued since his passing. It is my intention to bestow the same affection upon Pemberley’s tenants when I return to my estate next week. It is my hope you will join me in the continuation of this tradition as Mistress of Pemberley.”

  “I would like nothing more,” said Elizabeth, her heart singing with warmth and affection toward this generous man. She would be honored to soon join him as his wife, and she would gladly undertake all the duties that assumption of the post of Pemberley’s mistress entailed.

  “I have received a letter from my cousin, Mr. Collins,” said Mr. Bennet a few minutes later as he stepped into the room, “wherein he relates his disappointment at his inability to observe Christmastide with us, as he was occupied by his responsibilities at Rosings Park. He sends his regrets and wishes all a joyous celebration. Mr. Collins completes the missive with a promise to visit us sometime in the new year.”

  Mr. Bennet crumpled the sheet and, stepping to the hearth, placed it upon the fire, where it was soon consumed.

  “It is my wish,” said he, “that his patroness might find herself in need of Mr. Collins’s services much more frequently in the new year than she has in the past.”

  “Perhaps, Papa,” said Elizabeth with a look of innocence directed toward Mr. Darcy, “we can entice an acquaintance to assist with the success of your ambition.”

  “Please accept my apology,” said Mr. Darcy with a smile, “but I am possessed of no desire to infuriate my aunt by suggesting something of this nature. Having met the man, I am of the opinion she will find herself in need of respite from her vicar, and I cannot deny her such relief. You, as his closest relation, should welcome the man’s attention.”

  The laughter which greeted his statement was shared by all and became the impetus for the establishment of close bonds between Mr. Bennet and his future sons-in-law on that Christmas Day.

  The End

  Traditions of Christmas

  by

  Jann Rowland

  The other side of the coin of the challenge Lelia mentions with regard to her A Christmas Gift story. When I wrote this several years ago, I based it on the world of my first novel, Acting on Faith. When I dusted it off for this anthology, I repurposed it to happen in a random world so that those reading it will not be lost at sea with references to that work. As Lelia suggested, my writing has changed quite a bit over the years. But I still enjoy this brief look into the lives of our favorite couple.

  Elizabeth watched dubiously as her betrothed knelt in front of her, fastening a pair of ice skates to her boots. “Are you certain about this, William?”

  “What?” exclaimed William, a look of mock astonishment on his features. “The intrepid Miss Elizabeth Bennet cannot find her way around a small pond on a pair of skates?”

  “Your mood is entirely too ebullient, sir,” accused Elizabeth.

  “It is not every day that I am allowed to teach you something new, my dear,” replied William as he gave one of the skates a tug to tighten the straps. “You are far too independent; I relish the chance to be with you as you try something new.”

  “But skates?” persisted Elizabeth “Shall we not instead try an activity that does not involve strapping something to my feet which shall only make the ice even slipperier?”

  Elizabeth knew very well that she sounded petulant, but she was enjoying provoking her betrothed. William was a dear man who provided for her every comfort and need whenever he was able, but he was taking far too much pleasure in the fact that she had never been ice-skating before. She suspected his state of mind was primarily because of his astonishment that an outdoor activity existed which she had not previously tried.

  “Is she still complaining?” interrupted Anne de Bourgh as she glided up to them. She executed a pirouette in coming to a stop at the edge of the pond and then stood smiling down at Elizabeth with amusement.

  “Speaking of ebullience,” groused Elizabeth with a glower, “I am afraid your cousin appears to have caught your mood, William.”

  Anne only smiled at her, and Elizabeth could tell that she was suppressing her mirth with some effort, though it was a near thing. Anne’s arrival—without her mother—had been a great surprise to all, though Miss Bingley had rallied to use the woman’s appearance to her own advantage. At least, she attempted to do so—Miss Bingley had not been happy when Anne had expressed an eagerness to meet Elizabeth as her main reason for coming.

  “I still cannot fathom how you, of all people, know how to ice skate,” said Elizabeth. “Should your lady mother, ‘excessively attentive’ as she is to all of your concerns in general and your bodily health in particular, not have prohibited you from learning? I was not aware that ice was a part of Kent’s landscape. Is it not the garden of the kingdom?”

  “It is, though that does not mean that we do not have winter, as you well know,” replied Anne, her amusement unflagging. “Besides, I have not always been ill, and certainly have never been as unhealthy as my mother imagines. As a young girl, I played as any young girl would, though my mother was still very protective of me. As I grew older, there were, I will confess, some instances in which my dear cousins would sneak me out to the pond at Pemberley for a little ice skating while my aunts and uncles occupied my mother.”

  At this piece of intelligence, Elizabeth turned to her fiancé and regarded him with an astonished air. “Did I hear you correctly, Miss de Bourgh? The great and ever-proper Mr. Darcy actually condescended to sneak?”

  “I have been known to do my fair share of sneaking,” was William’s mild reply.

  Unconvinced, Elizabeth regarded him, knowing very well that he was not as stiff as she had first thought him to be. Since their engagement, William had shown even more of a playful side to his character—especially where Elizabeth was concerned—than she had thought existed. Of course, it was up to her to provoke it wherever possible, as she adored seeing a smile on his countenance. Not that a smile was now a rare occurrence—his relations had commented many times on the effect his relationship with her had wrought on him. He had not had much reason to smile since his father’s passing.

  “Is Miss Bennet still reluctant to come on the ice?” said Colonel Fitzwilliam as he skated up to them and executed a sudden stop, sending ice crystals showering through the air. With him was Georgiana, who glided atop the pond with little apparent effort, as though she had been born with a pair of skates attached to her feet. The pair had arrived at Netherfield some days earlier at Mr. Bingley’s invitation to spend Christmastide with them all. Given the opportunity to come to know Georgiana better after their interactions that summer was a blessing, as the girl had proven to be everything a future sister should be.

  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Colonel Fitzwilliam, expressing her displeasure at his too jovial tone. For that matter, her sisters, who followed behind the Colonel, were showing a disturbing proficiency on the ice. She knew that Lydia and Kitty had at times visited the pond, though she had not known just how skilled they were at traversing across it. In hindsight, she wished they would have spent even more time ice-skating, as it was one of the only activities they indulged in that did not involve redcoats, flirting, or exposing themselves to all and sundry. Even Mary, Elizabeth noticed, was showing a competence, if not a flair, that was unexpected.

  “You are looking at this in the wrong fashion, Miss Bennet,” said the Colonel with a twinkle in his eye. Elizabeth by now knew the man well enough to discern that such an expression meant trouble. Unfortunately, she was correct.

  “This is an opportunity to be in the arms of your betrothed before you are married.”

  Th
e tinkling of Anne’s laughter filled the small clearing, echoed by the Colonel’s guffaw and Kitty’s giggle. Georgiana, too, was smiling, though a laugh did not escape her lips, and Mary appeared to be scandalized.

  William, however, dear man that he was, glanced up at the Colonel with promised retribution in his eyes.

  “Ah, I can see the besotted and protective suitor has appeared,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, though he was not intimidated in the least. “Then I shall leave you to it.

  “Come, Anne,” continued the Colonel, taking his cousin’s arm. “Let us leave the lovers to their own devices.”

  They turned away and began to skate across the pond, followed by Mary and Kitty. Georgiana, however, glided forward and favored Elizabeth with a smile.

  “You will learn quickly, Elizabeth,” said she. “William is a very good instructor, and I know that you can do anything you attempt.”

  Elizabeth returned the girl’s smile with eager warmth. “Then how could I refuse? I shall not disappoint you, Georgiana.”

  “I doubt that is even possible,” said Georgiana.

  Then Elizabeth, feeling playful, said: “Though I have neither genius nor taste when it pertains to skating, I am certain that my vanity will give me application. But I do not doubt that it will likewise give me a pedantic air and conceited manner which would injure a higher degree of excellence than I am capable of reaching.”

  Georgiana and William laughed at her words.

  “Oh, Lizzy!” exclaimed Georgiana with some enthusiasm. “I shall love to have you for a sister!”

  Upon seeing the young girl’s sudden look of embarrassment at her outburst, Elizabeth hastened to assure her: “As I will love having you for a sister, Georgie.”

  Smiling with delight, Georgiana turned and, after admonishing William to teach Elizabeth properly, skated away.

  “Shall we?” asked William as he stood and extended his hand.

  Nodding, Elizabeth pushed herself up off her seat, grateful that the snow at the edge of the pond was soft enough that her skates sunk into it and provided her with a little stability and balance. It would not do to fall on her behind before she even made it to the ice!

  “Come, Elizabeth,” said her suitor, his reassurance warming her. “I shall guide you and will not allow you to fall.”

  Though she said nothing in response, Elizabeth followed him the few steps to the ice; then, after he had stepped out onto the hard surface himself, she followed him and put her own foot on the ice.

  And of course, she promptly had it slide out from under her. She clung to William for dear life as he performed his office and supported her while she tried to gain her balance.

  “I am certain you have already apprehended this, my dear,” said William, “but standing on skates differs greatly from standing on your boots.”

  “Do tell,” was Elizabeth’s dry reply. She managed to straighten herself and stand on the blades, and she soon felt that she would be well as long as she did not attempt to move.

  “Indeed,” said William, ignoring her sarcasm. “Walking on skates is possible, but it must be done slowly. You must be much more careful about how you move. If you move as though you were walking on a tiled floor, you are liable to fall.”

  He moved away from her, leaving her standing at the side of the pond. “When you wish to move, you must use the sharpness of the blade to gain purchase enough to push off. Like this.”

  He dug the blade of his left skate into the ice and pushed, gliding with effortless grace away from her. He pushed off several more times, turning and gliding toward her and then stopping in front of her much as the Colonel had, but with much less exuberance.

  “I doubt I shall be able to stop in such a manner,” said Elizabeth.

  “Stopping does take much more practice,” answered he. “But I shall stay with you, so you shall not be required to stop by yourself today.

  “Now, come; let us go.”

  Stepping to her side, William put a hand around her waist and grasped her by the arm; together, they pushed off and began to skate across the pond. At first, Elizabeth did not do much—she allowed her fiancé to propel them forward, gliding along with him at his guidance. But as they continued, being the intrepid woman that she was, she started to move with him, and she slowly began to become accustomed to the motions of skating, though she well knew that she would not become proficient at once.

  As she became accustomed to what she was doing, she was able to pay a little more attention to her surroundings. The pond on which they skated was situated at the very back of Longbourn’s property, in a maze of wilderness that only those familiar with the area could find.

  Though Elizabeth rarely came here, the scene at present was idyllic. A blanket of white snow covered the area, the result of a heavy fall only the night before, and the white coating decorated the trees with its sparkling brilliance. Even those trees bereft of their summer mantle appeared somehow majestic and beautiful despite the fact that they were sleeping out the winter. The boughs of the evergreen trees were also heavy with the white powder, lending them a festive air, much as the decorated trees of which Elizabeth had heard tales in the past.

  “Elizabeth!” cried Anne as she skated up to them. “I see that you are becoming accustomed to the ice!”

  “I must practice much more if I am ever to be accepted as being an accomplished ice-skater by your lady mother,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh.

  “Oh, but my mother does not skate,” said Anne. “Of course, if she had, then she would be a true proficient, you know.”

  They laughed together at Anne’s imitation of her mother while William looked on with an indulgent smile.

  “When you have become proficient,” continued Anne after a moment, “you must join us in a game of tag.”

  “But if I do that, then I shall be required to catch one of you, which I shall never succeed in doing. I think I will instead be content to skate with William.”

  “Then I shall leave you to it,” said Anne with a laugh before she once again skated away.

  A few minutes later, William prodded: “Are you looking forward to Christmas?”

  “I am,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “It is my favorite time of the year. And you shall certainly see how the Bennet family celebrates the season.”

  “I am anticipating it greatly, I assure you,” replied William. “Though Georgiana and I have spent Christmas with the Matlocks a few times, some years we have had only each other for company. A large gathering with many friends is a welcome change.”

  Elizabeth looked on him with feigned astonishment. “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man who hates large gatherings, is actually looking forward to Christmas with my voluble mother?”

  “There will be many others in attendance apart from your mother,” said William, his features betraying his amusement. “After all, am I not now her favorite future son-in-law?”

  “You are her only future son-in-law, now that Jane and Mr. Bingley are married,” pointed out Elizabeth.

  “This only ensures the firmness of my position.”

  He was being entirely too smug, Elizabeth thought, but she decided to allow it to pass.

  Instead of trying to chip away at that smugness, she asked: “Are you looking forward to Mr. Bingley’s return?”

  His amusement faded in a grimace. “I am,” said he. “The Hursts are at Netherfield already, I am afraid. As you know, Hurst is not the most interesting conversationalist, and Mrs. Hurst is not much better. Then add to the mix Miss Bingley’s determination to prove to me I have made a mistake in offering for you, and it equals a most uncomfortable situation.”

  “Oh, you poor dear,” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “Do you need me to save you from the big, bad Miss Bingley?”

  William laughed. “I believe I shall manage, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth laughed along with him before she asked him another question. “So what shall I expect Christmastide to be like as Mrs. Darcy? Do you have any tradition
s passed down from your parents that you wish to continue?”

  “Whatever traditions you bring with you should suffice, my dear.”

  “I will be most happy to share,” said Elizabeth. “But you must have some traditions of your own.”

  “We do,” confirmed William. “We decorate the house with festive candles, boughs of holly, and all manner of ribbons and other trimmings of the season. The most prominent of our traditions, however, is our Christmas tree.”

  Elizabeth turned to him with some surprise. “You decorate a tree?”

  “In actuality, we have not had a tree since my mother died.” His countenance had turned pensive with introspection. “She always insisted upon having a Christmas tree decorated with ribbons, nuts, fruits, and candles every year.”

  “Was she not ahead of her time?” asked Elizabeth curiously. “I had understood that Queen Charlotte had introduced the practice to England only ten years ago.”

  “And it still has not truly been accepted, except by certain members of the highest circles,” agreed William. “But the custom is much older in certain areas in Germany. My mother visited some distant relations in that country when she was a girl, and she was so enamored of the custom that she insisted upon it when she returned. Her father indulged her, and the Fitzwilliams have decorated a tree at Christmas ever since. My mother brought the custom with her when she married my father.

  “But with my mother’s death, my father could not bear to carry on the tradition. Though we still observed the season and performed some of the more traditional customs, our Christmases became much less prominent after that.”

  Throughout the course of his narrative, William’s voice had changed from introspective to wistful, leaving Elizabeth to wish that she had not provoked such painful memories.

  In an attempt to restore his former good spirits, she responded: “Then we shall have to continue the custom, assuming it is not too painful for you.”