Christmas in April

Today, as promised, I’m sharing an excerpt from a new P&P story that I have recently finished writing! At 63 pages, it’s either a very long short story or a short novella, and since it’s presented in a Christmas framework, I will probably wait to publish it until closer to the end of the year. Despite the Christmas framework, though, most of the action actually takes place in April, as you will discover below.

This story is completely unlike anything else I’ve ever written, but then I like new writing challenges! Technically, it’s fantasy, I guess – glimpses across time, ghostly visitation,  or was it only a dream? Title? I’m planning on It’s a Wonderful Life, Mr. Darcy, because of the basic premise. Think your life doesn’t matter, Mr. Darcy? Well, here’s what the world would be like if you’d never been born.

I had so much fun puzzling out this fanciful “what if?” And I hope you will enjoy it too. Here’s how the story begins:



Prologue

It is Christmas evening – my first of many happy Christmases with Elizabeth, God willing – and we have dear friends gathered at Pemberley to share it with us. Georgiana is here, of course, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Bingley and Jane have come, as well as the entire Gardiner family.

I glance at Elizabeth, who sits by my side, her hand tucked in mine. We exchange contented smiles, and I know I am the most fortunate of men.

It has been a full and satisfying day.

We woke to a blanket of white resting an inch or two thick on the ground – enough to delight everybody but not enough to create much inconvenience. So we were still able to safely reach Kympton to attend divine services on this holy day. Afterward, the Gardiner children played on the lawn, throwing snowballs and building what they could with the limited supply of the white stuff. Some of the adults braved the chilly air again as well, joining in the children’s play or just strolling about in the wintery scene, all of us bundled up in our warmest clothing.

Indoors, there have been games and conversation, along with good things to eat morning, noon, and night: hearty but simple fare for the most part, much of it prepared yesterday to lighten the load on the servants today. A few of them volunteered to remain on duty. But most – anybody with family in the area – have gone off for their own Christmas celebrations.

Now I can see through the drawing room windows that the sky is painted with more pink and orange hues than blues. The candles are lit, and the day is coming to a close. As I look about myself, at my comfortable home and the happy faces of my dear ones, I could wish to remain in this present moment forever.

And yet my thoughts refuse to do so. Without warning, the cheerful Christmas scene is now changed for something entirely different. Images from a much darker period suddenly appear, unbidden, before my mind’s eye. Familiar sensations, both frightening and exquisitely painful, clutch at my heart.

I resist the temptation to blink them away at once. Instead, I briefly allow the powerful recollections to wash over me again, as they so often have done since the event took place. It is good to remember, so that I never take Elizabeth and all my other blessings for granted. And so, for just a minute or two, I give myself over to reliving that wonderful, terrible time.

It happened eight months ago, in April, just after Elizabeth refused my first dismal proposal. That was a devastating blow indeed, and it must have in some manner brought on the strange episode that followed. I can conceive of no other explanation. This is the question which still lingers, however; was it real or only some kind of extraordinary dream? One could rightly call it a nightmare except for what I learnt by it. A painful event, once survived, may be counted a treasure if it proves to have been of tremendous value in the end.

The experience to which I refer certainly was – a valuable treasure, I mean. In truth, I count it a great gift, one I shall never forget. Christmas is a time of gift giving, is it not? Perhaps that is why the peculiar episode comes back to my mind again now. But if not a mere dream or even a nightmare, what shall I call it?

It was a visitation.



So there you have it, the first two pages of this long short story! What do you think? Are you intrigued?

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word form you will silence me on this subject for ever.” – Pride and Prejudice, chapter 58

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About Shannon Winslow

author of historical fiction in the tradition of Jane Austen
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10 Responses to Christmas in April

  1. michellanious's avatar michellanious says:

    Oh, I’m soooo looking forward to reading the full story. It sounds great. Congrats on finishing up the new story. 

  2. Billie Barrett's avatar Billie Barrett says:

    Wow! What a neat idea. I am so looking for a good read.

  3. sheilalmajczan's avatar sheilalmajczan says:

    Looking forward to reading this.

  4. Linda Hardesty's avatar Linda Hardesty says:

    Intriguing!

  5. Ruth Worman's avatar Ruth Worman says:

    That length is often considered a “novelette.” You might find that term helpful!

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