Mistletoe and Mischief

by Jann Rowland

  "So, Lizzy," said the elder Mr. Bingley merrily, "what say you of my decorations this year?"

  "I believe you have outdone yourself," said Elizabeth with a smile.

  "I thought so," said he, pleased, "though I believe I may have given Miss Darcy quite a fright."

  Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy, who seemed uncomfortable to be the focus of attention. "Is that so, Miss Darcy? Well, I can assure you there is no reason to be afraid of what Mr. Bingley says or does. He is the softest-hearted man you shall ever meet. Why, when the puppies of his favorite dog were born, I found Mr. Bingley sitting beside them with a stream of tears running down his face!"

  "How unkind, Lizzy!" cried Mr. Bingley. "You know I worried about the pain that Holly must have gone through. She has always been quite sensitive, you know, and eleven children is a most serious matter for any mother to bear."

  "Holly was intended to be a hunting dog," said Elizabeth conspiratorially to Miss Darcy, "but Mr. Bingley could not bear to see her facing such a life."

  "It is difficult work, you know," said Mr. Bingley, trying but failing to be serious. His mood could hardly ever be truly dampened, but that was most particularly the case around Christmastide.

  Miss Darcy gave a small smile which Elizabeth met with one much larger. Though the girl was reserved, it was more than apparent her reticence could be attributed to shyness.

  At that moment, Elizabeth decided she wished to befriend Miss Darcy or at least make her more comfortable in Hertfordshire. Jane had advised Elizabeth previously that Miss Darcy usually spent time in company with her companion, but no such woman was in sight. Miss Darcy's companion must have been given leave to spend time with family, which meant Miss Darcy had to have been feeling lonely and out of sorts.

  "Do you have other dogs that you use when hunting, then?" asked Mr. Darcy suddenly, looking at the elder Bingley.

  Elizabeth provided an answer for Mr. Bingley. "He does not. Gamekeepers despair of his attitude toward dogs--and any living creatures, really."

  "Best to leave the hunting for my son," said Mr. Bingley. "Charles is more capable than I am anyway when it comes to that sort of thing."

  After that brief exchange, Elizabeth continued to draw Miss Darcy into conversation. The girl was a willing participant, but her reticence was an obstacle that had to be overcome. Nevertheless, Elizabeth remained determined to draw Miss Darcy out.

  As Elizabeth continued with her mission, she noticed that Mr. Darcy seemed to be dividing his time between staring at her and staring at Jane. Though she wondered how he might find her and her sister to be so interesting when such a unique character study presented itself in the person of William Bingley, she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Once the Bennets left, Darcy had some time before he would need to dress for the Christmas party. He expressed interest in a ride that went unshared by Charles Bingley, so he went riding alone. He needed an opportunity to think, so the solitude was welcome.

  The primary purpose for his trip to Netherfield had been to evaluate Jane Bennet as a potential wife for Charles Bingley. Thus far, he had not seen anything to criticize about her character, though he could not be certain she was overly fond of his friend either.

  Strangely enough, however, he had found it difficult to concentrate on his evaluation of Jane Bennet, as his attention was caught all too often by Elizabeth Bennet.

  His interest had begun as gratitude. Georgiana, like Darcy himself, was uncomfortable in unfamiliar company, and she tended to withdraw into herself when placed in new situations. With some effort, however, Elizabeth Bennet had managed to encourage Georgiana first to smile and then to offer some unprompted comments here and there. Miss Elizabeth might not have realized it, but such progress for his dear sister was almost miraculous.

  Even in the short time he had been in company with Miss Elizabeth, however, his interest had begun to move past appreciation. Her teasing nature was the sort that lightened moods without causing offense, and she lacked the mercenary bent displayed unabashedly by Miss Bingley and many others of society.

  Her very presence was refreshing, and Darcy found it difficult to clear her from his mind.

  Eventually, Darcy decided to return to Netherfield. It was not long after he turned his horse back that he saw a female figure struggling to carry something in the direction of the manor house.

  Frowning, he urged his horse toward the figure at a gallop. As he grew closer, he realized it was Elizabeth Bennet carrying a whimpering greyhound.

  When Darcy dismounted nearby, Miss Elizabeth gently placed the dog on the ground. The greyhound let out a light yelp and commenced whimpering once more.

  "What happened?" asked Darcy, looking down at the animal.

  "Holly hurt her leg somehow," said Miss Elizabeth. "I had decided to walk before readying myself for the Christmas party, and I found Holly limping and crying in a nearby copse of trees."

  Darcy allowed himself to take a quick look at the creature. The dog wore a green collar with red circles upon it, the colors no doubt inspired by her namesake, and though she appeared somewhat dirty from frolicking outside, there was no evidence of blood or any sort of need for urgent attention.

  He turned his gaze back to Miss Elizabeth. "You should have simply left her and found someone to assist you. She will not perish the moment you leave her."

  "I feared that if I left her alone, she might harm herself further or be hurt by some other animal."

  "She is only a dog, Miss Bennet. You do not need to hurt yourself in attempting to aid her."

  "She is not 'only a dog,'" said the woman with a flash of irritation. "She is quite precious to Mr. Bingley, and his heart would break were anything to happen to her. Besides, I may need to rest a few times, but I am more than capable of carrying a dog."

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth Bennet, further protests hovering on his lips. Then he noticed the seriousness in her eyes and the stubborn jut to her chin. He supposed there was no point in further arguing with her. Could he truly admonish her for doing something indicative of a great level of care for others?

  "I suppose you are right at that," said Darcy, "but perhaps you may venture to accept my assistance nevertheless. Whereas you have been walking, I have merely been riding my horse. I find myself with an excess of energy at this point. I wonder whether you might allow me to carry the dog back to Netherfield while you lead my horse."

  Miss Bennet considered his proposal for a moment before agreeing. Darcy suspected her arms had already tired from carrying the dog, but he did not press the issue. Instead, he kneeled beside the injured animal and began to reach for it.

  Ears pressed back, the dog began growling. Miss Elizabeth dropped to her knees and encouraged the creature to become calm, offering soothing strokes and murmuring reassurances. After the dog had settled down, Miss Bennet gave a nod toward Darcy to indicate he could try once more to pick up the creature.

  Darcy reached out and slowly took the dog into his arms. Holly gave a yelp when he jostled her leg, but she otherwise simply whimpered as he stood.

  "Come, Miss Bennet," said Darcy softly. He watched as she took hold of his horse's reins and began to walk forward, and then he stepped up beside her.

  That was the second time that he witnessed Miss Elizabeth's being so caring and attentive that day. There would be a third time. And that would be the time he fell in love with her.

  Upon Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's arrival at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley dropped all of his party preparations to tend to Holly. Judging by how the greyhound's whimpers stopped and the wagging of her tail began, the attention was much appreciated.

  Charles Bingley then had to take up the mantle of party preparations along with his sisters, and Mr. Darcy assisted in conveying Elizabeth back to Longbourn.

  "I am more than capable of walking back home, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth.

  But the gentleman would have none of it. "You shall need time to ready yourself for the party this evening, Miss Bennet. Should
you not be able to attend, your presence would be sorely missed."

  Elizabeth considered resisting further, but the slight crook of a smile worn by Mr. Darcy and the mild expression of concern in his eyes stayed her protests. "Very well, Mr. Darcy. I shall accept the carriage."

  Mr. Darcy's smile widened, and Elizabeth was struck by how handsome the expression was on his face. "I am glad to hear it, Miss Bennet."

  "Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth suddenly, reaching out to touch his arm. They both froze at her action for a few moments, neither certain what to do. Then Elizabeth continued as she had intended and gave his arm a light squeeze. "Thank you for your assistance with Holly."

  As Elizabeth began to withdraw her arm, Mr. Darcy caught her hand. She gasped in surprise at the movement, but he did not flinch. Instead, he bowed over her hand and then gently pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles.

  "It was my pleasure, Miss Bennet," murmured he.

  As they parted, Elizabeth wondered what was causing her heart to beat so fast. "It must be the excitement of the day," said she to herself, "or perhaps the nigh-overwhelming smell of fresh greenery wafting through the halls of Netherfield."

  To Darcy's great relief, only a few families had been invited to Mr. Bingley's Christmas party, which made for a more intimate setting. Of course, when one of the families was as large as that of Mr. Bennet, who had five daughters and a wife whose noise level matched that of at least three guests combined, the room often did seem crowded. Nevertheless, Darcy had been to many a gathering in London with greater numbers and felt this party was at least bearable.

  He had agonized over the idea of whether to allow Georgiana to participate in the festivities, but as she had developed a tentative interest in doing so, he had relented. Should there be dancing, however, he had emphasized that she would only be allowed to stand up with the two Bingley men. This plan was quite acceptable to Georgiana, who advised she had no desire to dance at all.

  Once all of the guests had arrived, Mr. Bingley insisted that before dinner was to be enjoyed, they must all partake in some games in the ballroom. Charades and Snapdragon passed with no particular issues, but then Mr. Bingley insisted on a game of Hoodman's Blind.

  Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst attempted to insist that the game was not suitable for the present company, but Mr. Bingley would not be gainsaid, and he was supported in his endeavors by his son and an adamant Mrs. Bennet. "Young people live for games like these," insisted the latter, and William and Charles Bingley agreed wholeheartedly.

  An area was created close to the kissing bough for people such as Georgiana and Mr. Bennet to sit, allowing them to observe the game without taking part. Mr. Darcy had also intended to sit out the game with them, but Georgiana had uncharacteristically insisted that he take part, and he had been so surprised by her forcefulness that he had agreed.

  The participants drew straws, and a young woman Darcy understood to be Charlotte Lucas selected the shortest straw and was thus blindfolded. After ensuring she could not see around the strip of cloth tied around her head, Mr. Bingley gleefully spun her around three times and then released her.

  Miss Lucas reached her hands out to feel whether anyone was nearby, and the laughter, clapping, and taunting of the other guests began.

  "Char-lotte," said Miss Elizabeth in a singsong voice, "you are close, but not close enough!"

  Miss Lucas lunged forward in an attempt to touch Miss Elizabeth, but the other young woman simply laughed and stepped out of the way. A nearby clap then distracted Miss Lucas, who hastened forward once more in an attempt to touch someone.

  Miss Lucas eventually succeeded, and she felt a young woman's face and hair before guessing wrongly at the person's identity.

  "You must try again, Charlotte!" cried Miss Elizabeth. Her eyes danced with playful mischief, and her cheeks were flushed due to the effort of staying close to Charlotte while evading her questing hands. She brushed a stray dark-brown curl out of her eyes, the smile on her face filled with such genuine delight that Darcy could scarcely keep himself from staring at her.

  Miss Lucas did eventually catch someone and correctly ascertain their identity, and the game continued. This time, a gentleman was blindfolded, and he made such abrupt movements that the other participants’ efforts to avoid him bordered on frantic. Such was why Darcy hastened to move out of the way and did not realize where his steps had taken him.

  "Lydia, look!" cried a young woman Darcy believed to be Kitty Bennet. "Mr. Darcy is standing beneath the kissing bough!"

  Georgiana gasped audibly, and Darcy, though not typically prone to extreme emotional changes, could have sworn he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

  "Ah, yes, certainly, he is," said Sir William Lucas, who had declined to participate in the game. "However, it does not signify. Only unmarried women are to be kissed when they are found beneath a kissing bough. That is the tradition, you know—as is picking a mistletoe berry once a kiss is claimed. We must follow the traditions."

  "Oh, what is the fun in all of that, Willy?" asked the elder Mr. Bingley, shaking his head. "I believe a man to be just as susceptible to bad luck if the rules of the kissing bough are disobeyed. Besides, I have always heard that any unmarried lady or gentleman who is found beneath it must be kissed. Furthermore, that berry tradition of which you speak is not terribly practical, for the bough is set up so very high, and besides, I believe it to look much more handsome with all its berries intact."

  Sir William appeared stunned at having been corrected, but he soon rallied. "I suppose you have the right of it, Billy. We might as well err on the side of caution. There can be no harm in Mr. Darcy's receipt of a kiss from some worthy young woman."

  The instant this consensus was reached, Darcy saw Caroline Bingley charging forward to claim the spot of "worthy young woman."

  Elizabeth had been near Mr. Darcy and seen him backing toward the spot directly beneath the kissing bough. She had opened her mouth to warn him, but her youngest sister, whose ability to spot opportunities for mischief rivaled a hungry hawk's ability to spy a mouse in a meadow, had called out before she could do anything. When the brief argument over kissing bough traditions resolved, she could sense a certain restlessness in the crowd. Who would be the woman to step forward and claim a kiss from Mr. Darcy?

  While she did not know the gentleman very well and suspected he often hid his emotions, there was no mistaking the sudden dread that came over his face as he looked at something behind her. Elizabeth turned and saw Caroline Bingley practically shoving her way through the throng of participants in Hoodman's Blind to reach the gentleman.

  More than aware of Caroline's nature—and suspecting, as Mr. Darcy no doubt did, that the young woman would attempt to turn this tradition into something more than it was—Elizabeth made a spur-of-the-moment decision that she would chuckle at in later years.

  She stepped forward and joined Mr. Darcy beneath the kissing bough, reaching him mere moments before Caroline did. "I suppose if some young woman must claim a kiss from you, Mr. Darcy, it might as well be someone with whom you are familiar."

  Though saying they were familiar with each other was a slight exaggeration, Elizabeth's words produced a nearly instantaneous look of relief on Mr. Darcy's face. The tension seemed to melt from him further as he smiled at her. "I suppose you are correct, Miss Elizabeth."

  As he took a step forward, all were quiet, save Caroline, who made an unintelligible noise of protest.

  Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat, and she could feel the entire room staring at them. The gentleman brought his hands up and placed them on her cheeks, and then he bowed his head down to kiss the top of her head, his lips gently falling on her hair rather than her bare skin.

  Elizabeth, despite herself, had hoped for something more, yet as he withdrew from her, she admired the fact that he respected her enough to keep the kiss as chaste as he could.

  She smiled at him, her heart flooding with warmth.

  Darcy felt an almost ta
ngible ache as he stepped back from Elizabeth Bennet. He knew of the embarrassment that most young women would feel when being kissed by a gentleman in a room filled with family and friends, yet she had obviously sacrificed herself to save him from Miss Bingley's machinations. He had seen her glance at the other young woman and notice the determination written there. Yet again, Miss Elizabeth had proven herself to be both caring and attentive.

  He met her bright smile with one of his own, his heart soaring. But before he could say something to the young woman, he found his attention drawn by a most vociferous protest.

  "Wait, wait, wait," cried out Mr. Bingley. "You are doing it all wrong!"

  The smile slipped from Miss Elizabeth's face. "I beg pardon?"

  "Since Darcy was caught under the kissing bough, you are the one who is supposed to do the kissing, Lizzy."

  "I—I am?" stuttered the young woman.

  "Yes," said Mr. Bingley. "It is the rule, after all."

  "Papa," said Miss Bingley urgently, her face scowling most horrendously, "you are most assuredly incorrect. Your understanding of the kissing bough traditions is quite flawed—"

  "Is this not my house?" asked Mr. Bingley. "Is this not my kissing bough? Both belong to me, and I hereby mandate that this is how it is to be."

  "Papa, you should reconsider—"

  "I am decided," declared Mr. Bingley, crossing his arms. "Lizzy, please proceed, if you will."

  Miss Elizabeth looked at the man for a moment before she shook her head with an exasperated smile. She turned her attention back to Darcy. "I suppose I must obey our host, Mr. Darcy."

  Darcy felt as if his breath had been caught in his throat, and his voice was hoarse as he replied: "I suppose you must."

  He stepped toward her, and she reached one hand up to push his neck down even as she stepped up on the tips of her toes to make up for their difference in height. Her face came up next to his head, and he felt a warm puff of air before her soft lips contacted his cheek. Though the kiss was gentle and unassuming, Darcy felt a certainty in his bones that life as he had known it before was over.