Frolic and Play Christmas at Pemberley by Regina Jeffers!

Today's final Frolic and Play excerpt is brought to us by the talented Regina Jeffers! If you have not read Christmas at Pemberley, I highly recommend it! 

While at Pemberely, Jane Bingley, Kitty and Mary Bennet, and Georgiana Darcy are out gathering greenery for Christmas decorations with Mr. Bingley, Mr. Bennet, and Mr. Grange when mischievous Kitty get the idea to start launching snowballs at amiable Mr. Bingley. Soon war is declared. Enjoy!

Kitty mischievously scooped a handful of snow into a tight ball. She hid her icy creation under her cloak’s flap and waited for Mr. Bingley to step away from Jane. She had thought to hit Mr. Grange, but neither Mary nor the gentleman possessed a sense of humor. “Look,” Kitty whispered to Georgiana. “Let’s see if Mr. Bingley can protect himself. You make one also, and we shall attack together.”

Georgiana smiled easily. Gathering the evergreen branches and holly had gone well. “Do you suppose it would anger Mr. Bingley?” Without waiting for an answer, Georgiana formed a ball from the snowline sitting on the fence rail.

“Mr. Bingley?” Kitty chuckled. “As amiable as my sister’s husband is? Not likely.”

Georgiana giggled. “Then let’s have some enjoyment.”

Mr. Bingley bent to gather an armful of branches, but as he turned his back, two snowy spheres found his right shoulder. Plop! Splat!

Surprised, he turned to see Kitty and Georgiana hugging each other tightly while stifling bursts of laughter. “Ah!” he smiled largely. “So, that’s how it’s to be. A man labors to please a woman’s whims, and then she turns on him,” he taunted. As Bingley spoke, he dropped his stack of pine boughs on a horse blanket they had earlier spread on the ground, and then he armed himself. Playfully tossing the icy ball into the air, he teased, “You leave me no other choice, Sisters, but to defend myself.”

Jane Bingley stepped before her sister. “Kitty was just playing, Charles.”

“Oh, no, my Wife,” he continued his banter, “our sisters have declared war.”

Kitty peered around her eldest sister. “No war, Mr. Bingley. Just men against women.”

Bingley’s hands flitted in large circles above his head. “Oh, woe! We are beset upon! Come along, Grange; you’re with me, as are you Father Bennet.”

“Charles!” Jane warned.

“No reasoning permitted, Mrs. Bingley,” he mocked. “You’re now one of them.” To prove his point, Bingley lobed his snowball in his wife’s direction.

Laughing, Jane made an attempt of returning his attack, but her icy missile actually fell apart before it made contact.

Totally enjoying the play, Kitty and Georgiana hastily squeezed fist-sized snow sausages and flung them in the direction of the three men. Mary’s efforts were less stellar, but even she became caught up in the spontaneous fun.

“Sorry, Papa,” Kitty called as one of her efforts slid down her father’s neck and into his cravat.

“Careful with my wife,” Bingley cautioned the other men. “Remember she’s carrying my child.”

“Then my eldest shouldn’t put herself in the way of my best pitch.” Mr. Bennet purposely barreled a loosely packed snowball at Jane.

“Papa!” she protested, but returned a strong lob, landing a solid hit in his chest’s middle.

Laughter filled the frosty morning air. Soon, it was no longer men versus women. Each person fought everyone else, and snow drenched cloaks and great coats. Just as Mr. Bingley caught his wife and planned to dump her in a nearby snowdrift, a clearing of a deep voice brought them all up short.

“Yes, Thomas?” Georgiana fought to catch her breath.

“Pardon, Miss Darcy. Mr. Nathan asked me to fetch you. Your aunt, Lady Catherine, is waiting for you in the small drawing room.”

Georgiana gasped, “Lady Catherine?”

“Yes, Miss. She and Miss De Bourgh.”

Georgiana swayed in place. “Oh, Lord,” she murmured. “What could Her Ladyship mean with her visit?”

“Do you wish for me to accompany you, Miss Darcy?” Mrs. Bingley came to stand beside her.

Georgiana shook off the idea. “No, I should see my aunt alone.” She took off at a trot in the house’s direction.

Mrs. Bingley turned to her husband. “Charles, you and Mr. Grange should oversee bringing the greenery to the house. Papa, could you intercede with my mother until after Miss Darcy has the opportunity to address Lady Catherine’s needs.”

“I’m on my way, Jane.” Mr. Bennet followed Georgiana toward the side door.

“Kitty,” Jane continued. “I know Miss Darcy needs to tend to Her Ladyship alone, but you might be available to support her–even if she thinks she doesn’t need it.”

“Certainly.” Kitty rushed to catch up with her father.

“Caroline’s at the house,” Bingley assured his wife.

Jane glanced quickly to where Mary assisted Mr. Grange. Assured of some privacy, she said, “That’s what I fear. Lady Catherine knows nothing of Elizabeth’s problems in carrying to term. I would prefer that she didn’t learn of Lizzy’s anguish from either my mother or your sister. Neither would realize the pain such knowledge in Lady Catherine’s hands would give Mrs. Darcy.”

“Then you should speak to Caroline,” Bingley observed.

“It might be better coming from you, Charles. Caroline has no true affection for Elizabeth. She would disregard my pleas on Lizzy’s behalf.”

Bingley accepted the task immediately, as his wife gave orders to the waiting footmen. He certainly didn’t look forward to speaking to Caroline about such a private matter, but he would for Darcy. Although as a man, Darcy didn’t display his feeling, but Bingley knew his friend had suffered as much as Mrs. Darcy, but Darcy had felt compelled to protect Elizabeth–to be strong for her. Bingley would do whatever was necessary to divert Caroline’s spitefulness.

What a way to end such a good-natured snowball fight? Poor Georgiana has to deal with not only Lady Catherine but Caroline Bingley. Lucky her, right? ;)

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt and the other excerpts in the Frolic and Play series!

Merry Christmas!

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Frolic and Play: The Netherfield Snowball by Cassandra Grafton.

I am super excited to announce today's snow-filled scene. Cassandra Grafton, author of A Fair Prospect, has generously and cleverly written a special scene for the Frolic and Play series! Thank you, Cassandra. :)

This scene takes place the day after the Netherfield ball in Pride and Prejudice and after Mr. Collins is rejected by Elizabeth Bennet. Enjoy!

The day after the Netherfield Ball…

An early blast of wintry air had descended upon Hertfordshire overnight, leaving a hard frost atop a thin layer of snow, with the threat of more to come. Intent upon his business in Town and thus a speedy return, Charles Bingley set off at first light, the use of his carriage his only concession to the weather.

By the time the remaining occupants of Netherfield ventured downstairs, snow fell heavily from grey skies and before long several inches lay upon the ground.

Despite the roaring fires in every hearth, Caroline Bingley complained as steadily as the flakes fell, of the coldness in the air, the conditions outside underfoot and the paucity of the neighbourhood for offering any possible distraction.

As the clock struck noon, she and her sister settled beside the largest fire of all in the drawing room, refusing to move from its warmth. Mr Hurst resumed his usual indolent position on the sofa before drifting into slumber and, striving to tune out the ladies’ plaintive voices, Darcy walked over to the window and stared out into the park.

The weather was an unfortunate complication, and he released a frustrated breath. Their discussion earlier had centred upon Miss Jane Bennet and Bingley’s apparent infatuation with her. His sisters harboured some of Darcy’s own reservations over the suitability of the lady, and his doubts over Miss Bennet’s genuine interest in his friend were sufficient for him to agree to their suggestion: that they follow Bingley to Town directly and somehow – he knew not how – persuade him against not only his inclination, but returning to Netherfield at all.

Darcy eyed the conditions outside. There would be no journey to Town today. He could only hope, it being so early in winter, for a quick thaw so that they could make a swift withdrawal from the neighbourhood soon after. Hard upon the heels of this thought, came another: he would not see Miss Elizabeth Bennet again.

The tightening in his chest that accompanied any thought of the lady of late made its presence duly felt and, keen for distraction, he excused himself and made his way to the boot room. He needed fresh air and exercise to stave off the thoughts and regrets that would intrude.

Stepping outside, suitably booted and wrapped in his great coat, Darcy strode out, his feet making no sound on the virgin snow. The snow had all but stopped falling, and the skies were lightening slowly, and he inhaled deeply of the crisp, clear air as he walked, relishing the feel of it coolness.

Just then, a sound caught his ear, and he stopped to listen: children playing, their shouts of joy and laughter drifting to him like snowflakes on the wind. Turning a corner, he beheld them, using make-shift sledges to fly down a nearby slope before, pink-faced with cold, turning to trudge their way to the top again, bent upon repeating the pleasure.

Darcy turned his steps to the right, seeking solitude and soon came upon an opening in the hedgerow through which he slipped. Yet his evasive action proved his downfall; with a resounding thud, something hit him squarely in the throat and, as icy slithers of snow began to slide beneath his neck-cloth, his gaze met that of a wide-eyed Elizabeth Bennet.

“Forgive me, Mr Darcy; I did not expect you.” Her tone was sufficiently contrite, but her countenance did not speak of regret. Unless he was much mistaken, the lady was struggling to conceal her mirth.

He wiped the snow from his neck, brushing the remainder from his coat. “You have a sure aim for a lady, Madam.”

A raised brow greeted this comment. “For a lady, Sir? I will take the credit, begrudgingly though you bestow it. Yet my honesty will prevail. I did not take aim and fire, you merely obliged me by walking into my range.” She waved a hand, and he looked over his shoulder.

A low stone wall ran the length of the copse on this side and balanced atop it was a small snowman, albeit now minus part of its head. He frowned; she appeared to have attached some black ribbon to its neck but before he could study it further, she spoke from beside him.

“You place yourself in continued peril, Mr Darcy.”

He glanced at her as she picked something up from the foot of the wall: a low-brimmed black hat, and he frowned again. It was familiar yet he could not place it.

Having balanced it once more upon the remains of the snowman’s head, she returned to the place where she had first stood and, sensing that she would make no allowance for his present position, he quickly stepped aside, just in time to miss the next missile as it struck its target.

Elizabeth made a charming picture, wrapped up warmly in a thick coat, a colourful scarf at her throat and her pink cheeks glowing almost as much as her dark eyes and, despite the lingering dampness about his neck, Darcy released a contented sigh.

“You force me to repeat my praise, Miss Bennet. Your aim is true.”

She laughed. “It is a fine accomplishment, is it not?” Bending to scoop up another handful of snow, she moulded it into a tight ball. “You are very gallant, Mr Darcy?”

“You seem surprised.”

She pursed her lips. “Aye, you and gallantry are not things I have coupled together before now.”

Shocked, not only by her outspokenness but also the implication of her words, Darcy knew not what to say. Did she truly hold him in such low esteem? If so, how might he improve her opinion of him, and why was it so essential to him that he did?

Elizabeth, meanwhile, showed no respect for his inner turmoil, releasing the next snowball with expediency and returning the hat to its former place on the ground.

As she passed him on her way to restore it, he noted the snow clinging in clumps to her boots and the hem of her coat. “You are a long way from home in these conditions. May I not see you safely back?”

She adjusted the ribbon on the snowman’s shoulders, its head now fully dispatched to the other side of the wall and turned to study him. He could not see that he had said anything amiss, yet her expression did not auger well.

“You are mistaken, Mr Darcy. Home is but the other side of the wall.” Trying to get his bearings, Darcy’s gaze narrowed as she continued. “Longbourn may only be a modest house in your eyes, Sir, but the grounds are sufficiently large for finding solitude,” she raised an admonishing brow at him before turning to top the ribbon with the hat, “and escape when required.”

Accepting the hit, Darcy inclined his head. “Then permit me to leave you in peace, Madam.”

At this, the lady shook her head. “Pay me no mind, Mr Darcy. I am out of countenance with myself more than any other. You are perfectly at liberty to walk here.”

Glad of the reprieve, he smiled. “May I be of any assistance?”

Elizabeth threw him a surprised glance. “I doubt that you can, Sir. I am sorely in need of an outlet for a surfeit of ill temper.” She paused, then added, “Do not be alarmed, Mr Darcy; I am merely aggrieved by my cousin and needed to be where he was not.”

Recognition of the snowman’s attire came instantly, and Darcy bit his lip to hide his amusement.

“And er - may I enquire how you managed to take possession of his hat?”

She shrugged. “I cannot lay claim to any talent in that quarter. It hung upon the coat stand as I passed through the hall and, as I suspected he would have little use for it at present, I borrowed it.”

Turning, she walked back to a small pile of remaining snowballs and picked one up, weighing it on her palm, before facing him. “May I ask you a question?”

Unsure if she was about to request that she aim the next missile at him rather than the snowman, Darcy faltered; then, he nodded. “Of course.”

She sighed. “Would you ever consider putting your own happiness ahead of duty to your family?”

Darcy stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, unsure of the relevance of her words. “It is not so simple to answer. If I thought I had forsaken my duty, I do not think I could find contentment.” He studied her troubled countenance, then added. “But my resolve has yet to be tested in earnest.”

What he might have said next, he did not know, for voices drifted towards them on the cold air and they looked towards a stile part way along the wall only to see two of the younger Bennet sisters appear.

“Come, Lizzy! Papa says it is time for you to return to the house.” The girl gave Darcy a startled glance, as if only now perceiving his presence; then, she smirked. “You are quite safe; our cousin has taken to his room until supper.”

“I bid you good day, Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth curtsied, and he offered her a bow by return. “I thank you for bearing me company.” She held out her latest offering towards him, and he took it.

“I return the compliment, Miss Bennet.”

She retrieved the hat and soon disappeared over the stile and into the grounds of Longbourn, the chattering and laughter of her sisters fading slowly, and Darcy stooped to gather more snow, doubling his missile in size.

Though it had been many a year since he had thrown a snowball, Darcy was a keen sportsman with a good eye and a true aim, and the remains of the snowman, ribbon and all, soon disappeared over the wall in search of its head. How was it he felt such pleasure over such a childish thing and so revitalised by spending a short time in the lady’s company?

Darcy turned to retrace his steps, deep in thought. A few light flakes of snow began to fall, and he cast a wary glance heavenwards. Then, he shook his head at his own folly. Whatever the weather chose to deliver, he was caught in a trap of his own making – it was time to own it to himself. Thus, he would remain in Hertfordshire, await his friend’s return and, in the meantime, consider the benefits of lingering a little longer in the country.

I don't know about you, but I am wishing this were not a stand-alone scene. I want to know what happens next in the story. Thanks again, Cassandra for writing this scene for Frolic and Play!

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Frolic and Play: A Groom for Christmas by Cara Marsi

For today's Frolic and Play excerpt we have good-natured snowball fight from A Groom for Christmas by Cara Marsi. Here, Graceann Palmer and her pretend fiancé, Jake Falco, take her niece, Isabella, out to play in the snow. 

Dressed for the outdoors, Jake waited by the front door with Graceann for Lorrie to bring Isabella. Graceann leaned in to whisper to him. “You were really laying it on thick back there in the kitchen.”

She looked so adorably self-righteous with her eyes flashing. He suppressed a laugh, knowing even a smile would get him a punch in the arm. Giving her what he hoped was an innocent look, he said, “I want to spoil you, sweetheart.”

“I’m not you’re sweetheart, angel.”

“Who says you’re not?”

Before Graceann could answer, Lorrie came down the stairs holding a bundled-up Isabella. When she got to the bottom step, she let the little girl down. Isabella waddled over to Graceann and held out her arms. Laughing, Graceann picked her up. “You can barely move in all these clothes, sweetie.” She kissed Isabella on her cheek.

“I don’t want her to catch cold,” Lorrie said.

“She can’t move enough to catch a snowflake,” Graceann said.

Lorrie shrugged.

Jake opened the door. “Let’s go build that snowman.”

Later, a giggling Isabella helped Jake and Graceann roll a huge snowball into place for the base of the snowman. The little girl was covered with snow. “You look like a snowman yourself,” Jake said. Isabella giggled louder.

Graceann knelt to brush snow off Isabella’s coat and adjust the little girl’s hat. At the picture of maternal love, Jake reeled with unexpected longing. Fragments of memories rose in him like spirits arising from a mist—his mother adjusting his hat in the same way Graceann fixed Isabella’s; his mother holding him against her chest in a tender embrace. When he was small, his mom always wore rose-scented perfume. Even now the scent of roses reminded him of her. He had so few memories of loving times with his mother. Too soon, the roses were replaced by the stench of alcohol.

Uneasy with his painful trip down memory lane, Jake gathered snow and molded it between his hands until he had a perfectly formed ball. Today was a time for fun, the kind of fun he barely remembered with his own parents. He readied his arm for the pitch.

Finished with the little girl’s hat, Graceann stood. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the snowball. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, laughing. She scooped up a clump of snow to throw at him, but he was too fast. His snowball hit her in the shoulder.

Before he could throw another one, she quickly formed a ball and threw it, hitting him in the arm.

Laughing, Isabella danced around them. “Me, me!” she shouted.

“Over here, Izzie,” Graceann said. “Girls against the guy.”

“I’m outnumbered,” Jake said in mock fright.

The intense snowball fight was the most fun Jake had had in more years than he could remember. His leather jacket was covered with snow, but he didn’t care. He deliberately took a very long time making each snowball to give the females, especially Isabella, ample time to pummel him.

Graceann and Isabella’s laughter tinkled in the clear air, a happy, carefree sound that shot an unfamiliar feeling of joy to his heart. With a saucy smile for him, Graceann handed Isabella a perfectly formed snowball to throw. His chest tightened. Graceann had never looked more sweet than she did at this moment, with her thick hair flying around her face and her cheeks pink from the cold. Her full lips—.

He had no more time to think as Isabella’s snowball hit him in the heart. Clutching his chest, Jake fell onto the snow. Isabella squealed with delight. The females high-fived each other.

Jake’s laughter joined theirs. No matter what happened between him and Graceann, this Christmas with the Palmer family would go down as his happiest ever.

*******

Want to find out what happens after this snowball fight? Then might I suggest picking up a copy of A Groom for Christmas? 

I will soon be posting my review of A Groom for Christmas! Let me just say that so far it is my favorite holiday read this year. 

Book Blurb:

 When a young woman hires her hometown's former bad boy to be her
pretend fiancé for the holidays, she finds she can't wrap up her feelings as
easily as a Christmas gift.

New York jewelry designer Graceann Palmer has two days to find a fiancé to bring home to Pennsylvania for the holidays so her matchmaking mama will quit fixing her up with jerks. The Falcon, a motorcycle-riding, leather-clad former high school crush, helped her out once before. Maybe he'll do it again.

Jake Falco, man of many mysteries, is back in town on a mission--one the people of Spirit Lake most likely won't appreciate. When Graceann presents him with her crazy scheme, it gives him something he's always wanted--a chance to get to know Graceann. It also gives him the perfect opportunity to add fuel to his project of revenge.

But as Jake and Graceann grow closer, their engagement-of-convenience begins to feel like the real deal--until Jake's secrets are revealed.

Can a relationship that began with lies and secrets bloom like a rare Christmas rose into happily-ever-after?

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