How to Get Caught Under the Mistletoe: Launch Celebration and Giveaway

I know, I know, everyone is still drinking pumpkin spice and reveling in cozy sweaters and changing leaves. Believe it or not, I am looking outside as I type this, and my trees aren’t even changing. The lawn is green and lush, and it looks like summer outside! And yet, here I am with a Christmas novella.

So, if you aren’t ready for this one yet, or if you’re in a mood for Autumn Angst, stop back by in a month. But I had a break in my writing schedule, and I decided that simply wouldn’t do, so I filled it. And here we are! A bit of holiday fluff full of Darcy and Elizabeth shenanigans.

Poor Charlotte Lucas is ill, and when she cannot get out of bed after the Netherfield Ball, she finally confesses to Elizabeth that she believes she is not long for the world. Her one regret? She has never been kissed, and is not likely to be now. Mr. Bingley has suddenly gone to London, leaving Jane behind with a broken heart, and Elizabeth would do anything to give a bit of Christmas cheer to two people dear to her.

When an invitation arrives from Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for them to spend the Season in London, Elizabeth knows just what to do. She will arrange a meeting under the mistletoe for both of them and try to make each of their dreams come true.

The only problem? He’s over six feet tall and seems to know what she’s up to.

When plotting mistletoe mischief, always check for lurking gentlemen—
especially the tall, dark, and brooding kind.

It was supposed to be a simple holiday mission: whisk away heartbroken Jane and ailing Charlotte to London’s glittering festivities for some much-needed Christmas cheer. But as I, Elizabeth Bennet, quickly learned, nothing’s ever simple when a certain gentleman is involved.

For starters, there is Mr. Darcy, always appearing at the most inopportune moments—like under the very mistletoe branch I had my sights on! Between plum pudding, party mishaps, and an uncanny ability to be exactly where I don’t want him, Mr. Darcy might just be the biggest holiday hurdle. It is just my luck that he happens to be a dazzling kisser.

Will we find joy, love, and a few stolen kisses amidst the yuletide chaos? Or will I have to pen another guide titled, ‘How to Keep Stubborn Gentlemen From Stealing Your Heart’?

Join me in a festive frolic where hearts, hopes, and mistletoe hang in the balance.

Excerpt

I blinked and turned around again, my eyes scanning every wall and archway. No mistletoe at all? That could not be. But there was none! Not even a stray berry or a denuded branch.

I nudged Charlotte’s side and pointed toward the boughs of holly festooning the arch over the hallway.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The mistletoe! Or rather—the lack thereof.”

Charlotte sighed, then chuckled, as my eyes scoured every corner of the room in hopes of finding a hidden sprig of mistletoe tucked away somewhere. “Miss Bingley has truly outdone herself.”

I grabbed her arm, and in a hushed voice said, “It must be here somewhere. Miss Bingley would not have overlooked that. Her pride would not let her make such an omission. Besides, surely she wants to trap Mr. Darcy under the bough. I suspect she has only hidden it away, in fear that her brother and Jane might stumble under it.”

We spread out through the house, trying to look inconspicuous as we wandered from room to room. Charlotte and I slipped behind doors, searched along wall corners, and even took to checking ceiling moldings—all without success. Eventually, we had to concede defeat.

“At least we are not the only ones to remark on its absence,” Charlotte said. “Look there—one couple, at least, has decided to pretend it is hanging in the arch, even though it is not.”

I glanced to the doorway leading out to the hall, and indeed, two people I did not know had paused, and the gentleman plucked a red holly berry from the decor to serve the office. “Ingenious,” I remarked. “But I’m afraid it will not do for our purposes. They look like they were already betrothed and needed no inducement.”

“Probably,” Charlotte sighed. “Well, it is a silly notion, anyway. I am going to seek some punch and a quiet seat in the corner.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No.” Charlotte turned and set her hand on my arm, her expression firm. “No more mistletoe hunting tonight. No more fussing over my health or finding some gentleman to amuse me. Find something to make yourself merry, Elizabeth. I’ll be just there, like always.”

“But Charlotte, please, let me—”

“Go, Lizzy. Have some fun for yourself.” Her face sagged in weariness. “I will not permit you to waste the night sitting beside me.”

She wandered off, and I stood there in her wake, my heart bleeding for her. The best thing I could do would be to find my uncle and ask him to take us home. But I didn’t think she would permit that, either. So, what could I do, instead, to cheer her? I could ask the quartet to play her favorite song. Bring her a bit of wine to embolden her blood. Or…

A tall figure caught my eye—Mr. Darcy, still brooding in solitude near the hearth. An idea struck me, and I straightened my spine, gathering my nerve. The man owed me some civility, after all, and perhaps I could manipulate him into conversing with poor Charlotte.

I approached him in a rush from the side, before he could find a chance to withdraw. “Mr. Darcy,” I declared, sweeping over in a froth of billowing skirts. “You must be longing for intelligent discourse in this dreadful crush.”

He turned, one sardonic brow arched. “Intelligent discourse in such a gathering is rather hard to come by… but not impossible.”

“A man of hope! Indeed, you will do nicely.”

“You have a purpose in seeking me out, do you?” His lips twitched into a challenging look, and he sipped of his glass. “Do you mean to enlighten me?”

“In due course. Tell me, do you agree that it is the season of goodwill, and we must exert ourselves some little for our fellow man?”

“Hmm,” he grunted, turning to set his glass on the mantel. “Is it compliments you seek? In that case, let me say…” He paused to scrutinize my appearance. It took him rather a while to come up with something, too. “Your eyes are particularly bright this evening, Miss Elizabeth.”

I bristled at his impertinence but kept my tone sweet. “You are too kind, sir, but I am not the lady to force the confession of compliments.”

“Then you come to seek a favor. Out with it, Miss Elizabeth.”

I shook my head, my brows arching, and smiled. “Oh, I cannot be that blunt. And risk embarrassing someone else? Insupportable. No, no. Perhaps we could… wander this way. And we might discuss more cheerful subjects—the delightful snow we’ve been having, or the latest on-dits?”

“On-dits?” He leaned in, eyes glinting as he ignored my suggestion to move toward Charlotte. “As in idle gossip and tittle-tattle? Do not lower yourself to that standard, Miss Elizabeth.”

The nerve of the man! I narrowed my eyes. “I only propose conversation. A way to pass the evening in something other than stiff boredom.”

“And as I have said before, I am happy to oblige. What shall we speak of?”

I thinned my lips. The man was impossible. “Perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity about one or two points. Why does Miss Bingley forbid dancing at her party, when she has a splendid floor and a talented group of musicians? And where has all the mistletoe gone?”

Darcy blinked, then gave a short laugh. “You think I am privy to the inner workings of Miss Bingley’s mind? I assure you, I am as baffled as you by the lack of ‘merriment’ here.” He tipped his head across the room toward where Charlotte sat. “Though it seems some are determined to be merry, despite Miss Bingley’s edicts.”

I followed his glance, and that was when I noticed that Mr. Van der Meer had found her out. Charlotte did look happier now. Still, I wished I could have engineered that moment for her myself.

Darcy leaned close again, voice low. “Do not look so vexed, Miss Elizabeth. The night is still young. I am certain you will find a way to procure some Christmas cheer for your friend.”

His breath was warm on my ear. For a moment, I could not speak, tangled in sensations I did not understand. At last, I stepped back, inclining my head. “You presume a great deal, sir.”

“Do I?” He reclaimed his empty wine glass and held it up for a passing footman, then collected two more glasses from the tray and offered one to me. “Then perhaps you could tell me something, Miss Elizabeth. I recall well your friendship with Miss Lucas from Hertfordshire. Thick as thieves you were, always laughing about something together. But it seems that here in London, the laughter is not so abundant as it was, and you have scarcely permitted her out of your sight. You dote on her most prodigiously—more so, even, than your own sister. Why would that be? Have you determined to play match maker? Was that your intent in seeking me out—to oblige me to pay court to the lady?”

I thinned my lips. “And if it was?”

He smirked down at his glass. “I do not take manipulation well. I speak with whom I like, not who is forced upon me.”

“That I know for a falsehood, sir.”

He glanced up, one eyebrow climbing his forehead. “Oh?”

“You are presently speaking with me, and that was not of your choosing. What is your escape plan, sir? How did you intend to rid yourself of me?”

“I have no such intention.”

I sipped my wine and studied him. “You mean to tease me, then? Provoke me to annoyance for your own amusement?”

“I am amused enough without having to provoke you. You are a woman of remarkable intelligence, and I like to think of myself as—well, not a dullard. There must be something we can speak of.”

Inspiration uncoiled in my head, and a sly smile brewed on my lips. “Very well. You never did satisfy my questions regarding Mr. Wickham.”

He swallowed the rest of his wine and set the glass aside before leveling a heavy look at me. “Come now, Miss Bennet,” he said, those stormy eyes boring into mine. “Surely you did not truly think I would divulge the particulars of my history with Mr. Wickham in such a public setting? You give me too little credit.”

I met his gaze defiantly. “On the contrary, sir. I think you capable of great honesty, if you so choose.”

Something flashed in those black depths, but his expression remained shuttered. “An interesting theory. But I fear the truth is often… complicated.”

“Complicated?” I raised a brow. “How intriguing. I do love unraveling complicated things.”

Darcy’s mouth quirked. “Do you, indeed?”

Heat rose on my cheeks as his eyes traveled my face… skittered lightly over the curls in my hair, drank in my eyes, followed the curve of my cheek, and dipped down my throat. My skin tingled as if it were his fingers tracing it, not just his gaze. What was happening here? My heart was hammering like I had just run up Oakham Mount, and a rather unladylike sensation of perspiration clung to my ribs. I had to take control of this encounter.

“Well…” I rasped. “As you say, Mr. Darcy, this is a rather… ahem. Public setting. Perhaps we may discuss it some other time.”

His gaze cooled, and he dipped me a bow. “Indeed, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Very well. With your leave, I shall return to my friend.” I retreated as quickly as my legs could carry me, sighing in a fresh breath of air, my thoughts churning. Why did the man insist on vexing me so? And how was he even capable of unsettling me like no other? One moment he could be so cool and aloof, the next almost playful, daring me to spar with him. And the next… how did just a glance from him feel like a lover’s caress? What did he even want from me?

And I couldn’t understand my own reactions to him. That unbidden thrill when he had whispered in my ear…it was absurd. Mr. Darcy was the last man I should be intrigued by. And yet… try as I might, I could not deny a growing fascination. It was a dangerous line of thought, and I pushed it firmly from my mind. This was about Charlotte. I would find a way to grant her wish before the Christmas season ended, but not tonight. Not with Miss Bingley doing away with that hope here. What was the point in keeping her here longer? We should go, and the sooner the better.

I spotted her now, chatting amiably with Mr. Van der Meer. Her color seemed better, but she still looked fatigued. As I watched, she stifled a yawn behind her hand. Yes, it was time to get Charlotte home to rest. I hurried over, linking my arm through hers.

“There you are, dearest! It is nearly ten. Should we see if Uncle is ready to call for the carriage?” I asked brightly. Before she could protest, I turned to Mr. Van der Meer with an apologetic look. “You must forgive me, sir, for stealing my friend away. But the hour grows late, and Charlotte needs her rest.”

Charlotte opened her mouth, no doubt to insist she was well, but I squeezed her hand meaningfully. After a pause she closed her mouth and nodded. “Yes, I am feeling rather tired now. Thank you for the lovely conversation, Mr. Van der Meer.”

He bowed. “The pleasure was all mine. May I see you to your carriage? Or better yet, may I escort you home? I see Miss Bennet is still… enjoying herself in conversation, and I would hate to draw her away too soon. Shall we speak to Mr. Gardiner on the matter?”

Charlotte accepted, and I fell back, following them. How… fortuitous. My mind raced. Miss Bingley had not permitted any mistletoe inside the house… but did I not observe a festive bower just over the front door when we arrived? Was it possible she could have overlooked that one? I kept to the rear, trying not to rush my friend as we spoke to my uncle, collected our wraps, and moved toward the door. Luck just might be on our side, after all.

“Miss Elizabeth?” a voice called from behind me.

My shoulders tensed. That man had a knack for turning up at the most inopportune times! I quickly took Charlotte’s arm and marched her through the front door, hoping Mr. Darcy would think I had simply not heard him.

But he was not one to give up easily. “Miss Elizabeth, a word, please.”

I stifled a groan before turning to face him, pasting a polite smile on my face. “Mr. Darcy. I did not notice you there.”

“I doubt that. Will you spare me a moment before you go?”

Charlotte and Mr. Van der Meer did not pause in the doorway with me, much to my dismay. And with a surreptitious glance upward, I saw what we’d been seeking all night. The blasted mistletoe, the only one in the entire Bingley household, was hanging over the front door! And Charlotte was already walking down the steps toward the carriage.

I settled my eyes back on Mr. Darcy, my feelings toward him tending to the ungenerous. “One moment, Mr. Darcy.”

“It is to do with my sister,” he explained.

I frowned. “Miss Darcy? Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all. Well, not at present. It is only that she was hoping for an outing to the market—I assume she means to purchase a few gifts without me staring over her shoulder. Would you, and your sister and Miss Lucas…?”

I shook my head, my eyes almost dazzled by his audacity. “You want me to take your sister to the market?”

“If you are willing.”

“I… I do not know what to say.”

He dipped his head closer to me. “I believe the word you are looking for is ‘yes,’ Miss Elizabeth. At least, I hope it is.”

I blinked. “Yes. Of course.”

Mr. Darcy smiled. “Then I will send a note to your uncle to make the arrangements.” He paused, then his eyes flicked meaningfully upward to the arch over the door. “And I will bid you a good evening, Miss Elizabeth.”

My cheeks burned, but before I could respond, he turned his attention to Charlotte. “And Miss Lucas. I hope you also have a pleasant evening.”

Charlotte murmured something appropriately gracious in reply. I shifted impatiently, ready to extricate us from this conversation.

But Mr. Darcy seemed inclined to linger. “You know, I have heard it said that to find oneself under the mistletoe and not steal a kiss is the height of bad luck,” he mused, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.

I stared at him, momentarily speechless. Was Mr. Darcy actually flirting with me? Before I could gather my wits to respond, he simply bowed. “If you ladies will excuse me, I will return to the festivities,” he said with a tip of his head before striding away.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Well! That was… unexpected,” I managed.

Charlotte turned her knowing gaze on me. “It seems you have an admirer, Lizzy.”

I shook my head in denial, though my traitorous heart had quickened at Mr. Darcy’s words. I linked my arm through Charlotte’s again. “Come. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening without any further thought of mistletoe or mysterious gentlemen.”

Charlotte laughed gaily and allowed me to lead her into the dancing throng once more. But my thoughts kept returning to Mr. Darcy’s provocative suggestion, and the tingling possibility it presented.

Well, are you ready for more? I think Darcy actually has the upper hand here, even though Elizabeth doesn’t know it yet. What do you suppose our dear boy will do with that kind of opportunity?

I’m giving away two copies to Austen Variations readers! Drawing will be held on Friday.

How to Get Caught Under the Mistletoe is available at all retailers today! If you click a link and it does not say it’s live yet, fear not. It should be soon. And for lovers of Kindle Unlimited, there is still a way to read this one for free or a subscription, via Kobo Plus or Library Overdrive.

Merry (Early) Christmas, and happy Mistletoe Hunting!