Very Merry Mischief a Pride and Prejudice Novella Read online

  "Oh, William, the Coopers' baby girl is so sweet! I even held her for a moment while Elizabeth helped Mrs. Cooper with the basket. Mrs. Cooper said the blanket I stitched for little Abby was very handsome!" Georgiana realized her excitement might come off as a boast, and furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, until Elizabeth reached over and patted her hand.

  "You are maturing, Miss Darcy, into a fine lady. The kindness we show others always comes back to us ten-fold in feeling." Elizabeth smiled and Jane also nodded to reassure her.

  Charles made a big to-do of asking his most lovely wife to dance, to the claps and cheers of the other women. Georgiana scurried to the piano to begin a reel and Mr. Darcy looked to Elizabeth. He couldn't ascertain if his attentions were welcome as she appeared to avoid his eye contact, so he sighed and remembered his earlier promise to allow her time to forgive him. With a flat tone, he asked Miss Bingley to join him in a dance, which made the sour-faced lady brighten with joy. Elizabeth stood near the piano to assist Georgiana with page turning.

  The two couples laughed and danced, though Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy did not smile so much as frown, which one might think was the cause of his concentration for the steps. Knowing Mr. Darcy to be a consummate dancer, every time the gentleman caught her eye, she made an effort to give him a welcoming smile. As soon as the song ended, with a flourish on Georgiana's part, Charles escorted Jane to the sofa and bowed to take his sister's hand. Caroline frowned as her moment with Mr. Darcy was over so soon, but preened and comforted herself because he had asked her to dance first.

  As Mr. Darcy walked over to the piano forte, Elizabeth held her breath. Was he going to ask Georgiana to dance, or her? He neared and bent down to whisper in Georgiana's ear. Elizabeth couldn't help but to feel crestfallen until she heard his ragged voice ask his sister to play his favorite. Without a word, Mr. Darcy offered his hand to Elizabeth. She gazed up into his eyes, seeing fear there that she might refuse. Remembering other times she refused to dance with him out of spite, she worried so about their past acquaintance her hand trembled as she accepted his.

  Georgiana opted for a slow, spiritual rendition of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and Elizabeth found herself mesmerized by the tempo and movements she made with Mr. Darcy. Each hand off, each arm cradle, seemed to speak volumes and Elizabeth found herself distracted by the physical aspect of the dance so as not to trust herself to smile and reveal her feelings to her partner. The dance was too long and too short at the same time, and when the melody ended with her close to Mr. Darcy's chest, she took a deep breath and confessed.

  "That was my favorite, as well."

  Before he responded, Elizabeth offered to take Georgiana's place at the piano so she might dance a set. Caroline sat out as Jane danced another with her husband. Although Jane glowed, the long day's activities were a trial to her energy. Relinquishing the piano to Caroline, who graciously took the post though it appeared she did not wish it, Elizabeth announced she was exhausted before Jane could and asked her sister if she would retire with her?

  "I'm afraid I would. Charles, you do not mind?" Jane asked sweetly, as her husband bowed to her. He kissed her hand and wished them both a good night.

  As the Bennet sisters climbed the stairs, Elizabeth followed Jane to her room. Jane smiled mischievously as she welcomed her younger sister into her boudoir, with plans to needle out Elizabeth's feeling for Mr. Darcy once and for all.

  †††††

  "Well, old man, I believe I am bushed as well. I'm certain my wife is long asleep and I fear I shall be too if I do not rise and take myself to bed." Bingley laughed at his own joke as Darcy sat wretched behind his desk. His mind raced and reeled over the day's information in his quest to decipher if Elizabeth Bennet loved him, respected his acquaintance, or worse, tolerated him only as part of this visit.

  "My fault, I've kept you far longer than need required."

  "Nonsense, I came for your company and your scotch. A man needs his escape and it's dreadfully dull to sit in one's study alone." Charles frowned as he realized this lot was not his alone, but Darcy's as well.

  Before Bingley moved to leave, the study door opened and the Colonel strolled in, helping himself directly to a drink. With an exaggerated sigh at the deliciousness of the first gulp, he turned to his comrades in gender. "A fine night cap, if I say so myself. Now, Bingley you look ragged man, and Darcy you look tortured on the rack. See to your wife, I'll see to my cousin."

  Charles glanced back and forth at the two men and shrugged.

  Once they were alone, Darcy broke the silence. "I would imagine you wouldn't leave your wife's side this first evening back."

  The Colonel relaxed his posture in his favorite chair of the room, and took another swig of drink. "Mrs. Fitzwilliam is quite content, if that's what you're on about. But I'm afraid I'm still keeping the watch." Richard pointed to his mind and Darcy nodded. A soldier's sleeping schedule was profuse with interruptions, and rarely lasted more than a few hours at a time.

  "She missed you most ardently. Have you plans to cede your commission?" Darcy's tone was meant to be indifferent, but the pain of watching his fairer cousin pine these many months in his care, a touch of acridity could not be helped.

  "Anne and I have discussed it. She knew I could not abandon my men. But with the Peninsular campaign settled, I have two choices. Wellington has offered me charge of a school outside of London, with the rank of Major-General. A two year post, with the promise of no foreign action."

  "But Anne reaches her majority next year, the two of you can live at Rosing's in March when she turns twenty-five and inherits the lot."

  The Colonel massaged his chin in thought, trying to think of the best way to explain the circumstances without Darcy thinking him selfish. "My wife and I have discussed our options. She and I agree two years in London might soften the old baggage into living harmoniously. I see no hurry to displace our aunt so I can sleep with one eye open lest she creep over from the dowager house to murder us in the middle of the night."

  Darcy laughed at Richard's embellishment, but acknowledged they had a point about living harmonious with one's mother-in-law. His thoughts jumped to the nightmare of Mrs. Bennet one day living under his roof and he shook his head. Elizabeth's lack of true affection with her mother meant the lot would happily fall to Bingley if and when she outlived Mr. Bennet.

  "Now, tell me your plans for Miss Elizabeth. Anne has told me everything and I cannot believe you were such a dullard as to avoid Bingley's household the entire time I was away."

  "Oh no, you were away. You do not get to come in here and play after the battle commander about my affairs." Darcy mocked.

  Richard made a fine show of unfastening his cufflinks as he had not bothered to don his coat after unretiring for the evening, and rolling up his sleeves. The army's training showed plainly on the broad muscles and toned tendons running the length of his arms. "What are you doing?"

  "Preparing in case this comes to blows and I must knock some sense into you," Richard said, as calmly as stating the weather.

  "I have my reasons. I could not—"

  "Oh do go on, please! Tell me how impossible the task became to win the woman you love! " Richard's anger stopped Darcy mid-speech about the reasons he had laid out to Bingley. "Your history with Miss Elizabeth is an epic one, I'll grant you that. But be a man! She could not have thrown herself into a carriage while you wallowed and pitied yourself without ruining forever her reputation. But you! You could have. You could have had Georgiana offer a visit. You could have visited Netherfield with Anne and Georgiana."

  Darcy hung his head as his cousin ripped his year of self-pity to shreds. Silence hung heavy in the air until Darcy,at last, spoke. "I have ruined this situation beyond imagination. I am a fool to hide my affections even as she sleeps in my household. I will do better." Darcy glared at his cousin with the fire of a man in love.

  "Good! Now what is your plan?"

  "On the morrow, I will ask for a private
audience and explain it all to her." Darcy stopped his thoughts as his cousin frowned at him. "What? What would you suggest oh Major-General Cupid?"

  "Not talking to her! You'll bungle it for sure!" Richard laughed as Darcy paled. "Oh, don't give up, man. What speaks most to Miss Elizabeth? In light of your lack of action over this past year, talking won't salve the wound."

  Darcy sighed. "I must prove my affection."

  The Colonel stood up and finished his drink, slamming the glass down on the side table. "There you have it. Now," he paused to stretch, "I'm off to my bed warmed with a wife. I suggest you not leave here until you have a plan to get your own bed in similar order."

  Darcy cursed his cousin as he left his study, looking for something of little value on his desk to throw at the man. But Richard was right. There was no getting around the truth. Actions would mean more to his Elizabeth. Suddenly having an idea for the morning, he jotted down a quick note and rang for a footman to deliver it to Mrs. Reynold's box below in the servants quarters. Then he dismissed the man to go to bed.

  After a few moments of staring into the flame of the flickering candle, Darcy sighed. He arose from his chair and walked over to a cabinet he rarely opened, relieving it of a precious wooden box. Opening the lid, he lovingly held some mementos of his parents's courtship, and with care, removed a pressed rose from the gardens in Kent he swiped after a walk with Elizabeth. Beneath the letters from Bingley mentioning her name, there was a leather bound journal he had commissioned with the initials E. D. pressed into the cover. He had always meant it to be a wedding gift. Blowing the dust off the top, he reclosed the box and took the bound paper to his desk.

  Remembering how far his letter after the failed proposal in Kent had gone in restoring their friendship, Darcy dipped his pen into his inkwell. Very carefully, he began scribbling:

  I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun . . .

  †††††

  Shards of light crossed Darcy's face as he woke with his cheek stuck to a piece of parchment at his desk. He blinked a few times, then stood up with alarm, worried he was too late to start his plan. Running to the window, he saw the snow still pristine and crystallized before him like perfect icing on a wedding cake. Cheering his luck, he checked he time on his mantlepiece and hoped he could catch the lady of his heart. Rushing to the door, he doubled back to tuck the precious journal into the top drawer of his desk and lock it before exiting his study. He nearly tripped on Mrs. Reynolds in the hall.

  "Are all preparations made?" He asked like an errant schoolboy, grabbing the older woman by both arms to steady her after bumping into her.

  "Yes, sir, but Mr. Darcy, sir—"

  He kissed the cheek of the woman who was like a mother to him in her care and smiled. "No time to talk now, I must find her!"

  Darcy raced out of the hall to the entryway and listened. He could hear soft footsteps in the hall above and metered his breaths to calm his nerves. When he turned to see Elizabeth tiptoeing down the steps with a perplexed look at him, he beamed and offered his hand at the final step.

  "Good morning, Mr. Darcy," she said, hesitantly, still looking the man up and down.

  Realizing he looked a fright, he stared at his wrinkled clothes from the night before. "Good morning, Miss Bennet. I wondered, that is, I had a thought this morning for your normal walk and wondered if I might accompany you?"

  "I only walk the path between the main house and the hothouses, sir, as those paths are cleared of necessity. It's a short pace back and forth, an exercise to set my mind at ease." She stared into his face and he was becoming most uncomfortable at her inspection.

  "Since I realize that you'd love to go further afield, I've asked Mrs. Reynolds to fetch two pair of snow shoes for our use this morning. If you would like to try, that is."

  "Snow shoes! Oh, I would dearly love to walk more of the winter landscape, and with snow shoes—it would not be an inconvenience on your morning, sir?"

  Darcy shook his head, and noticed that Elizabeth stiffled a giggle. "Not at all madame, and if you would await me in the breakfast parlor, I would change my clothes and meet you there?"

  Elizabeth nodded as he kissed her hand farewell making her blush. As he walked past her to the stairs, Elizabeth couldn't resist any longer. "Mr Darcy!" He turned and smiled down at her, hopeful at her next words. "Take a care to wash the ink off your face, sir. I'm afraid it might stain if left alone." His hand instantly reached to the cheek she had stared most intently at and this time it was Fitzwilliam Darcy, Esquire who felt a blush spreading. Elizabeth smiled warmly at him and nodded, trying to alleviate his discomfort. As he bowed again and took the stairs, he decided he most likely would have been more embarrassed had she said nothing and he saw his reflection.

  Elizabeth found her stomach in a tumultuous state after her early morning audience with Mr. Darcy. She had laid her heart bare to Jane and together, the sisters agreed she was best served to be open and honest with him. Much easier said and resolved to in the middle of the night, talking about matters of the heart in a logical way, and quite another when the man of one's dreams stood handsome, adorable, and endearing with an ink smudge on his cheek. Nibbling at a croissant, she found drinking tea gave her the most comfort. She did not have to wait long as Mr. Darcy returned to the breakfast parlor looking like a new man, and Elizabeth sent well wishes to his poor valet.

  "Madame, may I invite you on a winter stroll?" He offered his arm with great panache.

  "Indeed you may, sir."

  The two still had a long way to go to understanding one another, but so far, their merriment in speaking as they traveled the servants halls to the back area to don the snow shoes made every maid and footman pause in their work. Nearly all had to look at their feet to hide their smirks, and once the couple was gone, Mrs. Reynolds called them all back to work.

  "I don't want to hear no snickering nor gossip. We all have a great deal of work ahead of us." The old woman barked out the day's orders and found a moment to have her own morning meal. She sighed as she sipped her tea and prayed mightily her young William had at last found his match.

  A crash from the breakfast parlor above started the kitchen staff, but Mrs. Reynolds remained calm. She didn't have to hear the loud voices upstairs to know Miss Bingley was likely learning not only had she missed Mr. Darcy, but that he was out with Miss Bennet.

  †

  Chapter Five

  The huge black sheep dog ran circles around Elizabeth as she tried to stay upright and gain her balance in the snow shoes. The spirited barking and prancing of a canine around her did nothing to help her steady herself, and twice she had fallen into the snow with unrestrained cheer. The third such time, she laid back and the dog licked her cheeks as she laughed with abandon.

  "Windsor! Here boy!" Darcy called out, picking up a snowball and tossing it away from Elizabeth. Windsor happily ran after the sailing ball, only to bark in confusion when it landed and disappeared. Elizabeth looked up from where she was lying to see Mr. Darcy's handsome face smiling back at her. "You are a force to be reckoned with, Miss Elizabeth." He helped her up and pretended to watch Windsor as she dusted the fresh powder off her skirts.

  "Oh, who can be cross at such a happy animal?" She glanced at Darcy and bent down to make her own snowball. "Here, Windsor!" her tiny voice rang out and the big, bumbling dog changed his focus to Miss Bennet to chase the snow ball she threw, though not as far. Taking Mr. Darcy's arm, she walked with him as they chose to take the frozen garden paths. The bushes of holly proudly presented their evergreen and vivid red berries with a confectioner's dusting of snow upon them. Elizabeth knew better than to touch their prickly leaves, but she couldn't help enjoying the sights and clean scents of winter around her.

  "By January, this pristine white will be marred with ugly dirt as the horses and other animals need their exercise."

  Eliza
beth wrinkled her nose. "We hardly get any snow in Hertfordshire except a small dusting, and that rarely happens before Christmas."

  Darcy nodded, being knowledgeable about the various weather patterns throughout the country. "How is your family? I confess I have heard so little through Charles. . ."

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and broke off from his arm, electing to walk on a little ahead. She wasn't quite ready to broach the subject, and talking about her family was awfully close to talking of his absence. "All are well. My mother is visiting Lydia, though she will return before the New Year. The babe is likely already born, we're waiting to hear the news." Darcy nodded, thankful she didn't dwell on that branch of the family at length. "Mary is married, this past autumn, to Mr. Nichols. He has been afforded the living in Hertfordshire and she is most content to be a parson's wife."

  "And your friend? Mrs. Collins?"

  Elizabeth swallowed, confused that Darcy had not heard through his connections at Kent. "Mrs. Collins perished last summer delivering a son. I would have thought your aunt would write to you of the news concerning her subjects." Elizabeth bit her lip, realizing how crass she had sounded. It was true the grand dame of Rosings acted as a regent over the citizens of the county, but she had no reason to disrespect the woman at present.

  "Ah, I am so sorry to hear Charlotte is gone. I know she was a particular friend of yours." Mr. Darcy's expression turned gloomy, and Elizabeth wondered why he did not address the subject of his aunt. Shrugging her shoulders, she attempted a jog in her snow shoes to the delight of Windsor.

  She allowed the dog to chase her as she navigated out of the neatly trimmed hedges of the garden until they were back in the open field. Picking up another handful of snow, she tossed it as high and far as she could for the dog to chase. When Mr. Darcy caught them up and made his own snowball to throw, Elizabeth made another, but this time, she didn't throw it for the dog, and instead hit Mr. Darcy squarely between the shoulders and part of his bare neck, making the man shudder.