Mistletoe Magic #2
The poor girl! “You cannot deny your feelings. They are real and true. But you can decide not to let a bounder ruin your life. You can remember that there is hope, even if you cannot feel it right now.” Elizabeth dropped the mistletoe into her basket.
“Do you know why we bring greenery into our houses at Christmastime? The tradition is far older than Christianity. It is to remind us that even in the darkest, coldest time of the year, there is still green. Spring will come someday, no matter how impossible that might seem when the plants are brown and dead. Even if it feels like your heart will never heal.” She took a deep breath.
“Do not let any man take that away from you, that there is a bit of greenery even in the deepest winter.”
The girl wrung her hands. “I came here to escape from Christmas. Everyone in Town kept talking about gaiety and parties, all the joy of the season. But there is no joy in my heart.”
How well she understood that! “I ran from my family today because I could not keep a smile on my face any longer. No doubt at Christmas I shall force myself to do so and pretend to a gaiety I do not possess, but I will also look at the evergreen boughs hung over the mantel and remind myself that spring will come. And I will think of even more horrible things to say to that selfish man who cares for nothing but himself. I will say in my mind, ‘Good riddance to you! I do not care this much for a miserable excuse for a human being like you!’” She snapped her fingers.
“Yes, good riddance!” The smallest of smiles broke through her somber expression. “Good riddance!” Clearly she was relishing the words.
It felt good to encourage this shy child, so she said, “And while I am looking at that green bough, I will say ‘Good riddance’ to your horrid man, too, and think of throwing him in a pig midden!”
The stranger said, “I will do the same for yours! Though we have no greenery, since I wanted no reminders of Christmas.” She sounded wistful.
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. “If I cut you one small green bough, will you put in on your mantelpiece so we can share that moment?”
A reckless glint came into her eyes. “I will put up all the evergreens! For you are right, that they have a different meaning.” She hesitated. “And I think my brother would like it, too.”
Elizabeth held up her garden shears. “Then let us cut greenery and wish our evil men into a cesspool!”
***
Darcy handed off his horse to the groom he had brought with him from London.
Using Netherfield staff would increase the likelihood that someone in the neighborhood would discover his presence there, and that would not do.
The last thing he wanted was callers, not when he was trying to provide Georgiana with a complete retreat from society.
It would have been better to go somewhere they were both unknown, but it would have been hard to find a house somewhere else on short notice at Christmas.
Georgiana had wanted too desperately to get away from everyone.
When Bingley had offered him the secluded cottage at Netherfield, the idea seemed heaven-sent.
Even if it had meant disposing of Wickham's presence in Meryton, just to be on the safe side, but that blackguard's proximity to the bewitching Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been nagging at him since he had first left Netherfield.
Even if Darcy could never have her, he did not want her to fall victim to Wickham's schemes.
Fortunately it had only been a matter of sending a solicitor to speak to Wickham's colonel with evidence of his past behavior.
It had been a bonus when Colonel Forster sent for Wickham to answer the charges, and Wickham was found in flagrante with the new Mrs. Forster.
Darcy strode towards the cottage. How had Georgiana managed without him, all alone except for the maid and the cook? He had hated to leave her in such low spirits, even for half a day.
But as he opened the door, a sound came to meet him, one he had not heard in many months, not since the disaster at Ramsgate and Georgiana's rapid decline afterwards. It was the sound of his sister laughing. Giggling, to be precise.
It could not be. When he had left this morning, she had been on the verge of tears, as usual. What miracle was this?
Then, as he stepped towards the drawing room, an all-too-familiar musical voice wafted past him. An unforgettable voice it was; one which haunted his dreams. But what was she doing here? She could ruin everything -even though he ached to see her.
“Will this be close enough to the hearth that you can throw the ash pail at any nasty, lying man?” Elizabeth’s tone was full of laughter, just as he remembered it.
“It is perfect,” Georgiana replied. “However, I still would prefer it to be pig dung.”
Pig dung? His delicate, depressed little sister was talking about pig dung to an absolute stranger?
Elizabeth’s tinkling laugh sent a rush of desire through him.
“Oh, yes, that would be better -if we do not count having to tolerate the smell of it the rest of the time. What about pouring the ashes over him, and while he is blinded by that, finding a nice, full chamberpot to empty over his head? Would that not be fitting?”
The response was another fit of giggles.
Darcy closed his mouth, which had fallen open at this remarkably odd conversation. And he could no longer help himself. He had to see her.
He sidled over to the open door to the drawing room.
There she was, standing on tiptoe on a tall stool, her well-turned ankles exposed as she raised her arms high to tie something to the blackened ceiling beam.
The sunlight through the window behind her outlined her shape in loving detail through her muslin dress.
Darcy swallowed hard. It was all he could do not to rush over, pull her into his arms, and make his secret dreams reality. He had no business thinking of Elizabeth Bennet like this.
“There!” she cried triumphantly. “What do you think?”
He could not take his eyes off her. The woman who had so bewitched him, whom he had forced himself to leave, whom he had never thought to see again. Standing in the sunlight in all her glory, her face alight as she smiled at his sister.
He must have made some sort of noise, for Georgiana started and looked over at him. “Oh! Brother, I did not expect you so soon. Do not fear, I did not tell her my name, and she has promised to keep my presence here a secret.”
Elizabeth, still on tiptoe, turned her head abruptly towards him. Her luscious lips made a little circle of surprise -and then she lost her balance. Her arms flailed to the side, and she began to topple.
He rushed forward and caught her, lowering her until her feet rested securely on the ground. None too quickly, of course; this remarkable taste of pleasure in holding Elizabeth Bennet in his arms would have to last him a lifetime. The warmth of her soft body sent a surge of delight through him.
Reluctantly -oh, so reluctantly- he released his grip on her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, striving to keep his voice modulated, as if this miracle was an everyday occurrence that had no effect on him.
She gave a breathy laugh, her color becomingly high.
“My dignity is severely sprained, but I am otherwise unharmed.” With a droll expression, added, “How very embarrassing! That of all the young ladies that I might encourage to imagine throwing ill-behaved men into the pig slops, I chose your genteel and well-bred sister. I am clearly a bad influence, and should take my leave instantly in order to limit the damage.”
“Oh, no!” Georgiana cried. “I have so enjoyed our conversation. Truly, Brother, she has been everything that is kind to me -and delightful company, too.”
“I thank you for your spirited defense! Unfortunately for me, your brother is already well aware of my many sins, and knows a great deal to my disadvantage,” Elizabeth said with mock ruefulness. “He already thinks me ill-bred and prone to improper behavior.”
Darcy could not help but smile. How he had missed crossing verbal swords with her! “Fear not, Georgiana. Miss Elizabeth Bennet finds great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not her own.”
Georgiana's eyes grew wide. “Oh, no! You know each other? And this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who you mentioned in your letters to me?”
Elizabeth dropped a curtsey. “Guilty as charged, my dear. But you may keep calling me Helena if you wish.”
“Helena?” he asked, baffled.
She tilted her head with a teasing look.
“Your sister quite properly would not reveal her name to me, but it would have been terribly rude to call her ‘whoever you may be.’ Since we were traipsing through the woods like the young ladies in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we decided she would be Hermia and I, Helena.
I think your sister makes quite a delightful Shakespearean heroine, do you not agree? ”
Darcy would have agreed to change his own name if it made her lovely eyes sparkle like that. “I hope I will not have to play the part of Bottom the Weaver, with the head of a donkey.”
She waved her hand. “No, we are saving our venom today for blackguards and cads, so you are perfectly safe from us. But I believe I have quite overstayed my welcome here, so I will take my leave. I have already promised your sister that I will tell no one of her presence here, and I will happily extend that to you as well.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially.
“After all, any mention of it would reflect much worse on me! Especially as our acquaintance started with your sister discovering me in the act of larceny.”
“For shame, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with an air of mock disapproval. “What did you steal?”
She gestured to the basket on the side table. “Sprigs of the magical Netherfield mistletoe. And a few branches of greenery, which are now on your mantel, making you accessory to my crime.”