Mistletoe and Mischief Page 6

  “How are you enjoying the evening thus far?”

  “As much as any other dance we have attended,” said her sister, the tone of her voice decidedly muted.

  “It is a wonderful evening, is it not?” asked the woman in the golden mask. “We have never seen its like in Hertfordshire!”

  “No,” came her sister’s quiet reply, “we have not.”

  “Take heart,” replied she, fixing her sister with a wide smile. “There might be a young man who interests you here tonight. Why, I might even say it is possible you will meet a certain special someone here.”

  Glancing around, the woman in the golden mask found the tall gentleman from earlier approaching from the other side of the room. He had another man with him this time, a gentleman with reddish hair and what would have been a lively step if he had not been so cast-down in his demeanor. A grin fell over her face as she waited with anticipation for the two gentlemen to reach them. Then, to her annoyance, her sister, oblivious to what was about to occur, started to move away.

  “I wish to speak with our aunt,” said she by way of explanation over her shoulder.

  “Jane!” cried the woman in the golden mask. “Please wait with me here for a few moments. We shall speak with our aunt later.”

  But Jane did not listen, choosing to ignore her call. Grinding her teeth together in aggravation, the woman in the golden mask stopped and listened to the conversation between the two men nearby, and she realized the taller man had seen what had happened and was improvising.

  “It would be a much more pleasant evening if you would dance,” said the taller man.

  “It would be much more pleasant if I were in Hertfordshire,” said the man with reddish hair. He sighed and added: “Then again, I suppose it would not be.”

  “I urged you to go to Hertfordshire, if you recall.”

  “You did. But Caroline assures me I would not be welcome.”

  “When have you started to listen to your sister?”

  “All you have is a belief to support your view. Caroline informs me Miss Bennet told her without disguise of her lack of interest in me. Would you have me believe she is lying to me?”

  That is exactly what you should believe! thought the woman in the golden mask, indignation welling up in her breast. But she knew the man’s companion would not make so open an accusation, and she waited to hear how he would respond.

  “This setting is not the best for such conversation,” said the taller man. “Instead, I believe you should dance and remove your mind from your troubles. Should you wish it, I shall see you again tomorrow and inform you of my opinions in more detail.”

  “This is rich,” said the newcomer with a laugh. “You are attempting to induce me to dance? Who ever heard of such a thing?”

  “Who, indeed?” asked the tall man. “Well, what do you say? If you look in that direction,” said he, gesturing at the woman in the golden mask, “there is a lovely young lady who does not have a partner at present. I myself have danced with her and found her quite agreeable—and more than handsome enough to tempt me.”

  The woman in the golden mask had to cover the giggle that escaped with her hand, but it seemed the man with reddish hair did not understand the reference. He glanced at her with interest, but no spark of recognition could be seen in his eyes. Then he turned back to his friend.

  “I dare say she seems very agreeable. At present, however, I should not like to dance.”

  “Come, my friend. It shall be for the best.”

  “I have not even been introduced to her!”

  “That is the silliest thing I have ever heard you say!” exclaimed the taller man. “Why, this is a masquerade ball, and everyone is hiding behind masks. On this one night, propriety might be relaxed and a woman’s hand solicited without an introduction. I insist!”

  “Oh, very well,” said the second man, though with little grace.

  Steeling himself, as if he were about to perform some unpleasant duty, he squared his shoulders and approached the woman in the golden mask. “Madam, might I request your hand for the next dance?”

  “Of course, sir,” said she, shooting an amused glance at his companion.

  Her partner for the next dance looked at her, and what she could see of his brow through the eyeholes in his mask furrowed, as if he were attempting to remember something. In the end, he said nothing, and as the next dance was about to start, he offered his hand and guided her to their places in line. The music started, and they began the intricate steps.

  The woman in the golden mask glanced at the tall man standing to the side as she moved, noting him watching her, his eyes seeming to tell her to practice patience. Though she felt quite amused by the circumstances, she knew Jane’s happiness depended on the outcome of their charade, so she decided it would be best to follow the directive given to her. For about half the dance, she did not speak with her partner, though she could feel his eyes on her, as if she were a particularly perplexing puzzle.

  “Excuse me, madam,” said he at length. “Have we met before?”

  Laughing at his confusion, she said: “Do you think we have, sir?”

  “It is on my mind that we have,” replied he. “There is something . . . I cannot even understand it myself. But something informs me you are familiar to me.”

  “Perhaps we have met, sir. To be honest, I wonder if I should be insulted that you did not know me at once.”

  “Know you at once?” asked he, his voice rising. “How could I with these damnable masks confusing us?”

  “How, indeed? It seems we must use something to aid us other than the pure recognition of putting a name to a face. There are other clues, are there not? Those clues are even now informing you that you recognize me without viewing my features.”

  “Are you always this teasing?” asked the man, his voice filled with curiosity and only a hint of asperity.

  “Nearly always,” said she. She was enjoying herself immensely. “My sister has often told me I am far too teasing, and I must own she is, as always, correct, for I dearly love to laugh.”

  Those words, which had been used more than once in this man’s presence, provoked him to start in surprise. While the recognition of her words was evident, however, it seemed he still could not quite place them.

  “Look at my eyes, hear my voice, and pay heed to the way I move about this dance floor, sir. Perhaps more importantly, while I believe you recognize me, I am also convinced you recognize in me an echo of one you once loved—one whom I hope you still love, for it will lead to great happiness for more than yourself if you do.”

  With an utter start where he faltered for an instant in the steps, his eyes widened until the whites filled the eyeholes of his mask. Then he righted himself and looked on her with wonder.

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  “You know I should not confirm or deny your suspicion, sir.”

  The man grinned at her teasing and acknowledged her hit. Then he looked about the room with new seeming passion and interest, his eyes searching. Then he turned back to her and fixed her with an eager and pleading look.

  “Is . . . Might I ask if this other of whom you are an echo is present tonight?”

  “That is a safe assumption,” replied Elizabeth with glee. “Had she not determined to find my aunt when you were approaching us a few moments ago, you might have greeted her.”

  A shadow fell over his eyes. “Did she not wish to see me?”

  “There are few she wishes to see more,” said Elizabeth. “She did not realize you were present.”

  A nod, distracted and short, was his response. As they danced, Elizabeth found herself facing the area where the tall man stood watching them, and she noted his scrutiny. When she winked at him, she knew he had understood, if indeed he had not already seen the change in posture of his friend himself. Then Elizabeth saw her sister entering the room from where she had exited and coming near the tall man, only to pause and glance around with a slight listlessness in
her demeanor.

  Though Elizabeth turned to her companion to point her sister out to him, it seemed he had noticed Jane the instant she had entered the room, as if he possessed a compass which pointed directly toward her. This was a man in love. A man who would be firm to his purpose.

  Elizabeth had worried for his resolve, fearing that he would believe the words of his detested sister. That worry vanished in the blink of an eye. What she saw before her very eyes was a testament to his determination—she knew nothing would ever separate them again.

  When the music faded away a moment later, the arm her companion offered to her was almost perfunctory in nature. In directing her toward the side of the floor where her sister now stood, he demonstrated an eagerness to join Jane there, to once again make her acquaintance, to love her properly as he had wished to do before. But they were not allowed to proceed without opposition, for a tall, thin figure decked out in feathers interposed herself in their path and attempted distraction.

  “Brother,” said the bird-like woman after raking her eyes over Elizabeth’s form in contempt, “I wish to go home. Let us retire from this place at once.”

  “If you wish to return home,” said the gentleman, “then you may find Louisa and ask her to see you home, for I have no intention of leaving.”

  The eyes behind the mask flared, and she glared at her brother. “I wish to return home, Charles. You will escort me from this place.”

  The laugh with which the gentleman responded was harsh and filled with contempt. “Why must we leave at this moment, Caroline? Do you fear I shall discover your lies?” His sister did not respond at once, allowing him to continue. “Did you ever speak with Miss Bennet about me? She never told you of indifference to me, did she? It was all nothing more than a lie meant to separate me from the woman I love, was it not?”

  “You would do well not to listen to whatever this woman has told you, Charles,” spat Caroline Bingley.

  “She has told me nothing,” said her brother. “But my eyes have been opened to your selfishness and your disdain for the feelings of anyone else, including me, your own brother. You will not control me any longer. I am my own master and will act as I please.”

  The woman glared at him with contempt. “So, you will ruin my prospects of marriage with your foolishness? That is true selfishness.”

  “Be gone!” growled Mr. Bingley, stepping close to his sister. “I have half a mind to turn you out and allow you to fend for yourself with your own dowry. Whatever the case, I shall no longer listen to you.”

  Then he sidestepped her and led Elizabeth to the side of the room. For an instant, Elizabeth thought Miss Bingley would move to intercept them again. It seemed, however, that some well of discretion led her to the understanding that she would not control her brother any longer. Elizabeth shot her a triumphant grin as she passed, but while Miss Bingley saw it and was infuriated by it, she was rendered impotent and unable to respond. A moment later, Miss Bingley stalked off in high dudgeon.

  The reunion between the two divided lovers was all Elizabeth had ever desired. Jane, overcome with emotion, wept for joy, while Mr. Bingley informed her, as sensibly as can be expected of a man violently in love, of his lifelong devotion and his intention to never again be separated from her. Though a ball might have been an inappropriate place to propose, Elizabeth thought for a moment he would. Instead, he settled on asking Jane for the next, soon leading her away, leaving Elizabeth alone with the tall man at her side.

  “Well, that appeared to work quite well,” said he, an undertone of mirth in his voice. “I almost had to drag him here, for he was as intent on staying away as his sister was just a moment ago.”

  “You made a wonderful job of it, sir,” said Elizabeth. As she watched Jane and saw her renewed spirits, a sense of contentment welled up in Elizabeth’s heart. “Perhaps we might have avoided months of suspense if you had simply kidnapped him and returned him to Hertfordshire. One look at her was all it took.”

  “Bullying him to stay here where he could come across her was difficult enough. I would not like to hold him in a carriage with a pistol pointed at him all the way to Hertfordshire.”

  Elizabeth laughed and turned to him, noting the amusement dancing in his eyes. “I now understand what you said of his sister, for I thought she would try to impale me with her eyes when I first spoke with her. Just now, however, I thought she was ready to commit violence.”

  “That was nothing to compare with how she behaved when she discovered I had been in Hertfordshire most of these past months. Returning there and leasing Pulvis Lodge was the best decision I ever made, for it allowed me to obtain my heart’s desire.”

  “And mine,” said Elizabeth. “I suppose we should feel sorry for Miss Bingley, for this has resulted in her dreams being dashed to pieces before her very eyes.”

  “Her dreams never had a chance of coming true,” replied he, looking at her with his heart in his eyes. “My soul cried out for you—only you. I could never have been happy with her.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Now, since this is a dance, I believe we should adhere to the forms, my dear. Let us dance again.”

  Elizabeth gaped at him, feigning shock. “But we have already danced once! It is not done to dance again so soon, sir. So lacking are you in the knowledge of proper behavior, I think I should call you Mr. Collins.”

  One elegant eyebrow rose behind his mask. “Do you compare me with your foolish cousin?”

  “I suppose I should not,” said Elizabeth with a grin. “You know the steps better than he.”

  “Then let me remind you of where we are—this is a costume ball. It is perfectly acceptable for us to dance the night away together.”

  With a smile, Elizabeth reached for his proffered arm. “In that case, I should be delighted to accommodate your wishes, Mr. Darcy. Let us do just that.”

  The End

  Mr. Collins’s Spirited Encounter

  by

  Lelia Eye

  I must confess to having a lot of fun with this one. My mother always loved the Christmas Carol story, and I have seen many different iterations of it. I debated between putting Lady Catherine or Mr. Collins in the role of Scrooge and ultimately decided the latter would likely be more humorous.

  Mr. Collins had no interest in spirits. The only spirit with which he had any involvement was the Holy Spirit, and that was only insofar as making reference to the Holy Spirit in his sermons. However, even his references were filched from other sources, a necessary evil given how many of his instructors and fellow parsons droned on about the need for one to be filled with the Holy Spirit. His understanding beyond that point was rather limited, but he had not yet seen cause to further enlighten himself since the aforementioned lack had never had any detrimental effect upon his life.

  It was because of this lack of belief in the existence of spirits that what occurred later seemed so miraculous. However, before those events can be canvassed, it is necessary to learn what preceded them.

  Upon hearing of his Cousin Bennet’s grave illness a few days before Christmas, Mr. Collins had deemed it prudent to immediately extend an olive branch to the Bennet family, with whom his deceased father had been estranged, and stay with them for a fortnight during the Christmas season. After all, if Longbourn—his cousin’s estate—were soon to come to Mr. Collins’s hands, it would be helpful for him to have a passing familiarity with it.

  Mr. Bennet's impending death certainly could not have come at a more fortuitous time, for Mr. Collins's patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had passed away a few months before. While the living that had been bestowed upon him belonged to him for life, he felt a distinct sense of loneliness at the parsonage, for he no longer received invitations to dinner at Rosings Park and had no companions with whom to engage himself. Various issues concerning the inheritance of her ladyship's estate were still being resolved, and it was yet to be seen whether the estate’s new owner would appreciate the benefit that Mr.
Collins’s presence brought to the area. If Mr. Collins could only gain an estate to call his own, it would serve as an excellent distraction from his woes and allow him to put her ladyship’s demise behind him.

  “Yes, cousin,” thought Mr. Collins as he considered the person of Mr. Bennet in his mind, “it would be best if you could be so kind as to pass from this world promptly so that I may comfortably establish myself at Longbourn.”

  The notion of inheriting an estate also brought with it the realization that the estate would need a mistress, and as his cousin's daughters were unmarried and rumored to be quite handsome, it seemed natural for him to plan to select a wife from among them. Then he would have done his familial duty by them and could rest peacefully at Longbourn, knowing that Mr. Bennet's daughters and wife would live with the humble knowledge of their savior’s sacrifice toward them.

  Shortly after he arrived at Longbourn and made his acquaintance with the Bennet family, he found himself drawn aside by Mrs. Bennet. The woman seemed pale and bordering on hysterical, but as they conversed and she realized they were both in agreement that he should wed one of the Bennet daughters, an aura of calm descended over her. Moments later, she revealed that she had a strong opinion as to which of her girls should become his bride.

  “Mr. Collins,” said she, “I must warn you most fervently that you must not propose marriage to Jane. There is a Mr. Bingley at Netherfield who is expected to offer for her at any time, and she would be forced to turn you down. That certainly would not do. No, no, the one you must ask to marry you is my second-born, Elizabeth. She shall make a fine wife for you. Indeed, she has assisted my husband with Longbourn's finances on occasion, and she is knowledgeable of any issues with the tenants. There can be no doubt that she would be a valuable asset for any master of Longbourn should Mr. Bennet leave us soon.”

  Mr. Collins had considered protesting at first. After all, should he not marry the eldest and most handsome of his cousin’s daughters? However, he was soon forced to own that a few minutes' acquaintance had convinced him that Elizabeth Bennet was handsome in her own right, and if she did indeed possess the understanding promised by Mrs. Bennet, she should be the most suitable wife once Longbourn fell under his control. Even Lady Catherine would have approved of the woman, though unfortunately he could never manage to confirm such due to her ladyship's most unfortunate demise.