Mistletoe at Pemberley: A Pride & Prejudice Variation by Rosamund Redgrave

Author:Rosamund Redgrave
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JAFF Christmas, Jane Austen Fan Fiction, Elizabeth and Darcy, Pemberley, Christmas Romance, Regency Short Story, Regency Christmas, Historical Romance, Sweet Romance, Clean and Wholesome Romance
Publisher: Redgrave Press
Published: 2023-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8 - Elizabeth

It had been a full day and evening since her sleigh ride with Darcy, but Elizabeth was still exhausted. Uncommonly exhausted. She reclined sideways in an ornately carved mahogany armchair nestled closely beside the grand drawing room’s centerpiece—an elaborate marble fireplace housing a crackling fire. She absently twirled a cinnamon-scented pine bough between restless fingers as she half-listened to the animated chatter swirling around her.

Try as she might to ignore it, an inexplicable chill had taken up seemingly permanent residence deep in her bones over the past few hours. She straightened the cashmere shawl around her shoulders and stretched her stocking-clad feet toward the fire’s glowing embers, seeking fleeting warmth. Frowning inwardly at this perplexing malaise besieging her otherwise pleasant evening, she attempted focusing instead on the laughing countenances of her sister Jane and dear friend Charlotte Lucas. The two ladies sat opposite on an elegant emerald silk settee, caught up planning the next day’s holiday festivities. A silver tray bearing crystal goblets of warm wassail and delicate sugar biscuits decorated with rosily glazed holly berries separated them.

Noticing Elizabeth’s distraction, Jane leaned forward and touched her arm gently. “Lizzy dear, you seem rather more subdued than is customary this evening. Are you quite well?” Kind eyes the cerulean blue of winter skies regarded Elizabeth closely. Before she could deflect, Jane’s eyebrows knit in concern noting the absence of her sister’s habitual lively complexion. “Why, I do believe you look a bit peakish. Are you feeling poorly, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth managed a small smile she hoped appeared more convincing than it felt. Privately, frustration nagged at her for the sudden inexplicable pall hanging over a previously quite pleasurable visit. “It is nothing, I assure you. Merely a passing chill.” She gave her shoulders an exaggerated shake as if to dislodge the icy talons slowly tightening across them. “I am certain some warming sustenance shall restore my holiday humor presently.”

To demonstrate her point, Elizabeth leaned forward to claim a ginger biscuit from the silver tray between them. But as she shifted, an unexpected swell of lightheadedness washed over her. Gripping the carved chair arms to steady herself, she clenched her eyes shut and willed the unsettling sensation to pass swiftly. Strange images swirled sickeningly behind her eyelids—guttering candles, white roses coated in ice, her own hands astonishingly pale against the evergreen velvet of her gown. Before more bizarre visions could surface, she became vaguely aware of a gentle hand clasping her shoulder and Jane’s concerned voice filtering through the haze.

“Lizzy? Lizzy! Please look at me. I truly think you should retire immediately.”

With monumental effort, Elizabeth blinked the phantasms away until Jane’s lovely face swam back into focus inches from her own, creased with worry. Behind Jane stood Charlotte, wringing her hands against her striped silk skirt anxiously. Elizabeth essayed more steadying breaths and offered what she hoped resembled a reassuring smile.

“Pray do not concern yourself, dearest sister. As I said, likely just a passing spell soon to be forgotten.” Even to her own ears, her overly bright tone rang hollow.

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