Excerpt from A Short Period of Exquisite Felicity–the Thaw!

The theme of the month is The Thaw and it recalled me back to one of my older books, A Short Period of Exquisite Felicity. February of 1814 there was a Frost Fair in London and Darcy and Elizabeth meet there (in my book) and the thaw begins, even if the temperatures were sub-zero! Hope you enjoy this little excerpt!

It appeared that a city of sorts had sprouted on the icy Thames. A grand mall ran from London Bridge to Blackfriars Bridge with tents offering anything a person could desire, or so it appeared to Elizabeth’s delighted eyes. This tent had a printing press busily producing souvenirs, that one had mulled wine and gin, and the next one had mugs engraved with the date. Books, toys, shawls, furs, and even bonnets were all there for purchase on the ice. And the food! Elizabeth saw the spit-roasted ox as well as mutton and meat pies, cream ices of every flavour imaginable, nuts, biscuits and cakes, oysters, and every manner of good thing. Elizabeth thought an entire year would not be nearly enough to take in all the sights around her.

When they first arrived, they did no more than stroll along the main thoroughfare, which had been dubbed the “City Road.” Nearby, a barge, rendered immovable by the ice, had been made into a dance floor. Bingley saw it and his eyes lit up. Soon enough, he was waving farewell to the rest of them and taking his wife off to dance a reel or two.

Caroline was dedicated to lavishing attention on Sir Edmund; she scarcely spoke to anyone else. Elizabeth was left to Jolly, and fortunately, he was entertaining enough to remove all awkwardness from the situation.

A great many tents were devoted to gambling, and many of them boasted as many ladies as gentlemen among the players. The ladies would play for little prizes, and Elizabeth, with Jolly’s aid, found herself a winner at teetotum, earning a certificate that attested to her achievement.

It took little for Elizabeth to discern that Caroline would rather be alone with her suitor. She made several attempts to slip unnoticed into the crowd with him, but Sir Edmund always stopped and called after Elizabeth and Jolly. At last, they all stood together in front of a fuddling tent called City of Moscow; the owner no doubt thought himself a wit. Caroline proposed that she and Sir Edmund seek out some mulled wine while Elizabeth and Jolly purchased meat pies for them all.

“I cannot think the fuddling tent a decent place for you, my flower,” said Sir Edmund, and indeed, he was correct, for it appeared inhabited by many who had been there for a considerable time. Elizabeth looked away just as a clumsy, drunken sort of fisticuffs broke out among a few patrons near the doorway.

“What if you wait here?” Jolly proposed. “Sir Edmund and I shall see to the drinks, and then we can all find some pies together.”

As soon as the gentlemen were out of sight, Caroline demanded that Elizabeth tell her whether she thought Sir Edmund was the most gallant of all gentlemen; Elizabeth answered a dutiful affirmative. And the most handsome?—undoubtedly. She then wished to know whether her appearance was frightful?—certainly not. And whether Elizabeth thought Sir Edmund was violently in love with her?—of course he was.

The minutes passed long after that. Caroline had no interest in speaking to Elizabeth, for as much as they had formed an unanticipated truce, it did not follow that Caroline wished to befriend her. Elizabeth looked around for a while, relieved when she beheld a friend from Cheltenham, Miss Carrie Holmes, walking towards her. She was a charming and generous lady, and one Elizabeth had always liked. They had become friendly over a mutual love of reading and books, and it was not long before their conversation turned to like subjects.

“You must have already been to the booksellers’ tents, I am sure! That one is the finest.” Miss Holmes indicated the one closest to where they stood. “I am something of an expert as I do think I have visited them all!”

The two laughed lightly while Elizabeth glancing longingly at the tent. Miss Holmes was required to leave her then, and Elizabeth, believing there was still some time before the gentleman would return, decided a quick look could not hurt. She knew it was likely unwise to leave her group, but she was growing cold and had a wish to see which books were for sale. Caroline saw nothing amiss with her leaving. “I shall be right there,” she told Caroline before slipping away. After all, it was only about four paces away.

There were a vast number of books that interested her, and she found herself reading the first few pages of one before moving to another and then another. She was reaching for The Corsair when a gloved male hand extended for the same; they touched, and Elizabeth jumped back, looking up to see Mr Darcy looking down at her.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Oh, I…my apologies.”

“Not at all.” He reached for the book and handed it to her. “Please take it.”

“No, thank you.” She gave it back. “I believe you were first.”

He handed it to her again. “I was not, I assure you. In any case, I have already ordered it.”

“I have no intention of purchasing it. You should take it.”

“No intention to purchase it?” He gave her an unexpectedly kind smile. “Does the subject displease you?”

She was astonished by his smile and forced herself into a like expression before explaining, “I confess, I do not yet know the subject. Is it about a privateer?”

“Of sorts, or so I have been told. It is excessively popular; the entire first run was sold in a day. Over ten thousand copies if the rumours can be believed. I am surprised to see it here.”

“It must be diverting indeed.”

“One should hope,” he agreed.

There was a brief silence, heavy with the weight of what had so recently passed between them. Elizabeth longed to escape even as she longed to stay. Reluctantly, she said, “I should return to my friends.”

Darcy murmured something that she could not distinguish, and she turned from him, moving towards the exit of the bookseller’s tent. There was an empty space where Miss Bingley recently stood. “Oh.”

Mr Darcy had followed her, and from close behind, she heard, “Is something wrong?”

Elizabeth craned her neck, looking as far as she could in either direction. “I cannot find them.”

“Who were you with?”

Dismayed, Elizabeth said, “I was with Jolly, Sir Edmund, and Miss Bingley. Mr and Mrs Bingley were also part of our party, but they went to the dancing barge. I should not have separated from them, but surely, they have not gone far. I shall find them quickly, I think.”

“Will you permit me to help you?”

Amazed, Elizabeth looked up to see that there was less distress at the notion and more real interest in his countenance than she expected to see. “I could not ask you to do that.”

“I insist.”

Well of course, he must offer. He can hardly send you out onto the Thames without an escort. He is likely scandalised that you are in here alone. “Truly, I am loath to be a bother to you.”

“It is no bother at all.”

“I am sure they are but a few paces down.”

“I could not permit you to go off on your own, not in such company as this.” He studied her and said in a lowered voice, “Surely it is better to endure the society of someone you despise than to risk your safety?”

Her heart cried out against the injustice in such a statement—No! It is I who must be despised!—but she gave no utterance of that nature. “I do not wish to be a trouble to you. No doubt you are here with a party of your own.”

“No one who will miss me overmuch.” He extended his arm to her, and after a moment, she accepted it. Relief rushed through her as she touched him. For a time, no matter how short, she was under his care and protection.

They walked out of the bookseller’s tent, looking for all the world—or so Elizabeth imagined—as if there had never been a cross word between them.