by Hatch, Donna
Mistletoe Magic
A Christmas Regency Short Story
Donna Hatch
Copyright 2011 Donna Hatch
Smashwords Edition
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Chapter 1
England
December, 1813
Evelyn strapped on her ice skates, tucked the ends of her knitted muffler into her wool coat, and set out to pursue her prey. Her prey, Michael Cavenleigh, skated upon the frozen lake, oblivious to her designs. He wasn’t completely oblivious to Evelyn’s existence, but he hadn’t exactly paid court to her, either. That would soon change. At Lady Cavenleigh’s Christmas Eve masquerade ball, Evelyn would don a mask and lure Michael Cavenleigh under the mistletoe. Then, after a single, world-tilting kiss, he’d realize Evelyn was the only girl for him.
Smiling, Evelyn pulled on her gloves and stood. After she smoothed her skirts and buttoned the top button of her wool coat, she waded through the soft snow to the lake’s frozen edge.
As she slid onto the ice, she wobbled a bit until she got the feel of her skates. Though the lake had frozen weeks ago, Evelyn hadn’t skated in almost a year and it took a moment to regain the feel of skating. From behind, came a swishing sound.
“Graceful as ever, eh?” Colin Stratford glided by, grinning lopsidedly.
Evelyn tried to shoot him a glare, but had to return his infectious grin. “Give me a moment and I’ll out skate you.”
Colin turned around and skated backwards. He bowed low making it look elegant even on skates. “Anything for a lady.” A wicked grin crinkled his brown eyes. “But then, you’re just a skinny, freckle-faced tag-a-long, so I don’t have to show you that courtesy.”
Evelyn pretended to be outraged at his slur, but she’d grown up hearing it, so it had lost its barb years ago. She raised her chin and sniffed. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”
He circled back and moved alongside her. “My mother would disagree.”
“She is blind to your faults. And believe me, they are legion.”
Colin looked thoughtful. “That’s true. But one can hardly blame her. Mothers are supposed to adore their sons, are they not?”
Evelyn made a dismissive wave. “Yes, of course. But don’t believe everything she says to you about how wonderful you are.”
He grinned again, his nose and cheeks pink from cold. “I have to. It’s my job as a dutiful son.” He gestured to his green muffler. “She told me I look dashing in this muffler you knitted me.”
“You must admit, it is rather nice.”
His smile softened. “It is. I wear it every time I go out of doors.”
Evelyn stared at the sudden change. Gone was the impish boy she’d grown up with. In his place stood a handsome young man who was looking at her with a gentleness she’d never seen before.
Unexplainably uncomfortable, Evelyn looked out over the ice lined with flocked trees. Voices of the other skaters reached her ears. She scanned the area, looking for Michael Cavenleigh. He skated with Mary and Susan, nice girls in their own right, but far too young for a worldly man like Michael.
Evelyn had already enjoyed two successful Seasons in London, which made her a much better match. She spotted Michael amid the group, but he wasn’t truly engaged with their conversation.
“He’s not looking for a wife, you know,” Colin said quietly.
“Hmmm?” She pulled her attention back to Colin.
Colin pointed with his chin toward the others. “Cavenleigh. He’s still too broken up about his betrothed. He’s not ready to move on, yet.”
Poor thing. Losing a lady he’d planned to wed had to have broken his heart. Perhaps Michael just needed the right lady to heal him. “I understand.”
“Besides,” Colin added with that familiar, impish smile, “He was known as something of a libertine in his younger days. Unlike your silly gothic novels, rakes do not make the best husbands.”
“Oh, and your reputation is sterling?”
Colin’s eyes gleamed. “A gentleman would never tell.”
Evelyn let out a scoffing noise. “I’ve never been disillusioned enough to consider you a gentleman.”
“That depends on your definition.” Colin adjusted his hat resting on his dark hair. “I assume you’ve chosen a mask for Lady Cavenleigh’s masquerade ball tomorrow night?”
“Of course. It’s a gorgeous half mask with peacock feathers.”
Raising a brow, Colin looked at her. “Peacock feathers? You swore you’d never wear feathers again after you were presented at court.”
“Which is exactly why no one will recognize me. And the mask looks so lovely with my new amethyst velvet gown.”
“Ah. Of course.”
“And you?”
“I think I’ll keep that a secret. I might decide to flirt with you and I wouldn’t want you to know it is I.”
“Incorrigible, as usual.” She shook her head, smiling. “What about Michael Cavenleigh? What kind of mask is he wearing?”
“Hmm. I’m not certain, but he mentioned a gold Venetian half-mask.” He glanced sideways at her. “You know, it’s probably bad ton to reveal a disguise before the midnight unmasking.”
“Yes, well, you’ve never accused me of having good ton.”
“Actually, since your entreé to society, you’ve been surprisingly well-behaved for a wild little hoodlum.”
Evelyn tossed her head. “And you are still as much a badly behaved scoundrel as you were at seven.”
He laughed. “Touché.”
Other members of the group circled around, staying close together. As Evelyn and Colin reached the others, Mary and Susan both waved, put their heads together and whispered, then broke into peals of laughter.
Michael Cavenleigh nodded a greeting. “Mr. Stratford. Miss Collins.”
Evelyn smiled at the handsome young gentleman whose head she hoped to turn. “Mr. Cavenleigh, isn’t this a lovely day to skate?”
Colin snickered.
Evelyn almost smacked her own forehead at the lack of imagination she showed with her conversation topic.
Michael nodded solemnly. “It is a fine day.”
Evelyn tried again. “I’m really looking forward to your mother’s masquerade ball tomorrow night. I can’t wait to see what chalk art she’ll have on the ballroom floor this year.” She glanced back at the group of matrons, including Michael’s mother, Lady Cavenleigh, who had accompanied the skating party.
Michael nodded. “Yes, the artist has already arrived and been hard at work.”
“I shall be sure to arrive early then, so I may enjoy it before it gets smudged.”
“I’m sure Mother appreciates your....er....appreciation.”
Colin snickered again. If he’d been within reach. Evelyn would have punched him in the arm. Maybe she should whack him over the head with a stick like she once did as a child. Clearly, it had been too long since he’d had a good whacking.
She pretended not to hear him and skated closer to Michael. “I understand you have a somewhat artistic bent.”
Michael shrugged. “Some. Enough to appreciate the skill that goes into a true work of art.”
“That’s about all I have as well, but I can hardly wait to view the Elgin Marbles when we go to London for the Season.”
“I’ve heard they are, indeed, noteworthy.”
Another member of the group skated by and commanded Michael’s attent
ion with talk of hunting seasons and hounds. Evelyn moved back and pretended to focus on skating and conversing with the others. When her fingers and toes grew numb, she turned back toward the bank where the matrons sat together by a fire.
Evelyn’s mama waved. “Come warm up, Evie, dear. Mrs. Stratford brought wassail.”
A lovely idea! She caught up to Michael and his group of admirers. Colin skated past her to the edge of the ice and tromped through the snow to the circle of logs where the matrons sat. Mrs. Stratford, Lady Cavenleigh, and Mama sat among them. Servants bustled between them, serving steaming mugs of the delicious drink.
Evelyn smiled at Michael. “Shall we go enjoy Mrs. Stratford’s famous apple wassail?”
He nodded without smiling, his brown eyes solemn. “It would be welcome respite from the cold.”
“Oooh!” squealed Mary. “She brought her wassail?”
“How wonderful!” exclaimed Susan.
As a group, they skated off the ice and joined those already sitting around a fire enjoying the hot beverage. Evelyn took a seat on a blanket and accepted a cup. She sipped the drink, savoring the sweet, spiced flavor, and watched the steam curl and dissipate.
She let out a happy sigh as the warmth slid down her throat and spread comfortingly through her chilled body. “This is lovely. I do wish you’d let us in on your secret, Mrs. Stratford.”
Colin’s mother smiled smugly. “Thank you dear, but you know very well that it’s a family secret.”
“Well, then, you’ll simply have to endure my presence at your home when I get a sudden craving for it,” Evelyn declared.
“Of course. You’re always welcome, my dear.”
Colin put an arm around his mother’s shoulder and grinned at Evelyn. “Don’t feel bad, Evie, she won’t give it to me, either. She claims it’s a mother-to-daughter exchange only.”
“I might make an exception for a daughter-in-law, though, if I had one.” Mrs. Stratford gave Colin a meaningful look.
Colin ducked. “No, Mother, I most certainly did not get that very subtle hint.”
Mrs. Stratford chucked Colin under the chin. “It’s too quiet in the house. I need to hear the happy sounds of grandchildren playing.”
Colin cleared his throat. “So, anyone up for a race before we head back? Evelyn’s already admitted defeat so....”
Evelyn let out a cry of mock outrage. “I beg your pardon, I most certainly did not.” She stood and hurried to the ice. “I can out skate you without even trying.”
“Anyone else?” Colin asked. “No? Very well, Evie—”
“Go!” shouted Evelyn as she shot out in front of him.
“Hey! Cheat!”
She laughed. The swishing of Colin’s skates closed in behind her. Evelyn bent her knees, lowered her head, and pushed her legs faster. Cold stung her cheeks and made her eyes water. All sound faded behind the roaring of the wind in her ears. Faster. Faster. Colin shouted, but his words couldn’t reach her.
Something underneath her skates felt wrong. A mighty crack like thunder gave her a second’s warning before the ice gave way beneath her. Jagged chunks of ice rose up, opening a hole below her skates. Evelyn plunged into freezing water.
Chapter 2
Colin watched, his heart screeching to a halt, as the ice cracked. A hole opened up right below Evelyn’s skates. Evelyn sank. Shards of ice leaped up around her in the churning water.
“Evelyn!”
He dove onto his stomach and slid forward toward her. Evelyn’s head disappeared. Jagged chunks of ice closed in over her. Evelyn could swim, but weighed down by her clothes, and in such frigid water, she might not manage it. And if there were any kind of current caused by the streams that fed or ran from the lake…
“Evelyn!”
Colin’s momentum carried him toward the hole. Still on his stomach, he slid to a stop. Ice cracked beneath him, great lines traveling in all directions, but held firm. He flattened himself out, trying to keep his weight evenly distributed.
Still splayed, Colin inched forward. Closer. Closer. “Evelyn!”
No reply.
No, please no. Not like this. Everything inside him went still.
Chunks of ice and water roiled in the hole. A bare head popped up between the floating ice. Evelyn sputtered, her dark hair plastered over her face and her hat nowhere to be found. She grappled at the edge, but it collapsed underneath her gloved hands. Frozen chunks buffeted her head.
Colin reached for her, but she was too far away. “Evelyn, hold on! I’m coming!”
Her gloves clawed at the ice but she sank underneath the water.
Screaming her name, Colin inched forward, closer and closer to the hole. Pieces of ice bobbed in the water. His blood roared in his ears. Muted voices buzzed around him but he remained focused on the hole that had swallowed Evelyn. His thoughts blew like leaves in a storm. He had to act quickly or she’d freeze to death. Resisting the urge to simply jump in after her, he forced himself to think. He needed something to throw to her, like a tree branch or a rope.
His muffler! Quickly, he unwound the muffler Evelyn made him and threw it to the edge of the hole. The end dangled in the water. Ice chunks bobbed furiously. A pair of hands burst out of the hole. Evelyn’s head barely broke through the surface. She gasped in a gulp of air.
“Evelyn! Grab the muffler!”
She flailed about, and finally took hold of the muffler. Colin pulled. The muffler stretched. He wound the knitted end around his hand and pulled harder. She moved toward him and her body stopped at the edge. Colin scooted closer, winding the muffler around his hand to keep it taut.
“That’s it,” he soothed, “hold on. I’ll get you out.”
Gasping, Evelyn braced herself on her elbows at the edge of the hole, and tried to get up onto the ice, but more ice fell in around her, widening the hole.
She let out a sob. “I can’t get out.”
“Yes, you can.” Colin scooted closer, but the ice cracked again, lines traveling from his body outward.
“Colin! Don’t leave me!”
“I’m not leaving you.” Heaven help him, if he had to fall in and freeze with her, he wouldn’t leave her. Despite the cold, perspiration dripped into his eyes.
A voice boomed behind him. “I’ve got you, Stratford, pull her out.” Someone grabbed his feet.
Colin glanced back. Michael lay on his stomach, holding onto Colin’s feet, and someone else held onto Michael’s legs.
“Let’s pull her out,” Michael said.
Colin inched closer to Evelyn, pulling harder and harder on the muffler. Ice creaked sickeningly as Colin crawled nearer the edge. He stretched out one hand toward Evelyn.
“Take my hand, Evie.”
With one hand still gripping the muffler, she reached out the other toward him. He grabbed her, and pulled with all his might. Slowly, her body rose out of the water. Colin let go of the muffler and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. His muscles strained, but still he pulled until she was safely in his arms. With Michael pulling him back by his feet, Colin dragged Evelyn completely out of the water, back, back away from the hole.
When they reached firm ice, Colin collapsed. Evelyn lay gasping, her eyes closed, ice already forming in her wet hair.
Colin raised his head. “We have to get you warm and dry.”
Michael was already moving. He took off his wool coat and wrapped it around Evelyn. Then scooping her up, Michael carried her back toward the bank. The others who helped surrounded Michael, all talking at once. Colin stood, weak with relief, but started shaking so badly he could hardly walk.
She’d almost died. His little Evie, childhood friend, but lately, such a lovely young lady, had nearly perished today. He put shaking hands over his face. His gloves were wet and his fingers were numb but all he could think of was Evelyn disappearing underneath the ice. Sucking in great gulps of air, he pushed back the urge to simply sit down and weep. Instead, he forced his feet to move, following Michael and the others
to the shore.
The matrons all made exclamations of horror at the terrifying event, and relief that she’d been rescued. One of the women reached for her smelling salts, but thankfully, Colin’s mother and Evelyn’s both stayed clear-headed. Evelyn seemed dazed and confused, even pushing at the hands that tried to help her.
“Get her inside the carriage,” Evelyn’s mother ordered.
Michael carried Evelyn to her family coach. Evelyn’s mother climbed in with her followed by Lady Cavenleigh and Colin’s mother, where the women were no doubt removing her wet clothing and wrapping her in dry blankets.
“Pack some warming bricks in around her, too,” her mother instructed.
Colin grabbed one of the servants by the arm. “Ride ahead and get the doctor.”
The servant nodded and raced to obey. Within minutes, Evelyn’s coach set off to take her home. The others gathered up their belongings while servants packed up the food and drinks. Feeling helpless, Colin stood watching numbly as the others departed. Within minutes, he was left alone in the clearing, staring out over the ice. All that remained of the danger was a slight discoloration in the smooth surface. A green knitted muffler lay discarded in the middle of the frozen field. His muffler.
He stepped onto the ice and skated to it, cautious of the large cracks near the hole. Stooping, he picked up the muffler and cradled it in his hands. When she’d given it to him, he’d never dreamed it might help him save her life.
Pressing the muffler to his face, he shuddered. What would he have done if he’d lost his little Evie? It didn’t matter that she’d set her cap for Michael. As the son of a viscount, Michael was, after all, of much greater consequence than Colin, the son of a country squire. And if Michael recovered from his grief to take a good look at her, he’d realize what a treasure Evelyn was. He’d take care of her.
Colin gritted his teeth. Who was he fooling? As terrible as it had been watching Evelyn fall through the ice, seeing her marry another would be absolutely heart-wrenching. He would do whatever it took to prevent that catastrophe. He would not lose her. Not to the ice, not to another man.