Elizabeth prowled through the orchard. Where was it, the apple tree the Netherfield gardener had pointed out to her? She had noted it then, but the trees had been just beginning to lose their leaves, a few late fruits still dangling from the twigs. Now they were nothing but bare branches, and everything looked different.

If anything, it should make her quarry stand out more. She huffed out a breath that steamed in the cold air. It must be here somewhere. This morning she had learned the hard way that her judgment was faulty and her vanity overwhelming, but surely she ought to be able to find a single tree!

A glint of green high in the branches caught her eye. Yes, there it was! A cluster of leaves and white berries nestled in the fork where a limb met the trunk. For the first time since she had heard the devastating, mortifying news, a smile crept over her face. Everyone might be laughing at her behind their hands, but at least Longbourn would have the prized greenery to decorate the house this year.

Sometimes the small successes were what mattered.

She waded through the long grass to the base of the tree and glanced around. No one was in sight, thank heavens. She could scramble up the tree to collect her prize – except the first gnarled branch was out of her reach. Curse her luck! She pounded her fist against the rough, grayish bark.

But wait – had she not seen a ladder by the gate? She hurried back to the stone wall. Yes, there it was, an old one no doubt left by whoever had harvested the apples. The top had broken off it, leaving only five rungs and a jagged end, but it would be enough to get her into the branches.

Moss stained the sides, so she stripped off her fine kid gloves before trying to lift it. No point in making her day any worse by ruining her favorite gloves! It was heavier than she expected, but somehow she managed to drag it to the tree. Breathing heavily, she propped it against the trunk.

Where it promptly toppled over.

Oh, bother! She heaved it up again, but even before she let go, the ladder began to list again. She leaned down to examine the base of it. No wonder – one leg had broken off right at the bottom. A good two inches were missing. That would explain why it had been left behind.

It was never going to stand up by itself. She could try to make a hole for the longer leg to go in, but she had nothing to dig with. Or she could put a rock under the short leg… No, then it would fall over when she was atop it, and she would be in far worse straits.

Just then a figure appeared on the path beside the orchard, a woman wrapped in a hooded cloak with her hands stuffed in a fur muff. Not someone she recognized, but she need not be an acquaintance to ask her to hold a ladder for five minutes! That was the answer.

She let the ladder fall again. “Miss?” she called.

The figure turned like a startled rabbit. “Oh! I did not see you!” It was a girl several years younger than her.

Elizabeth forged ahead, despite the embarrassment of soliciting a mere stranger for assistance. “Forgive me, but might I beg a favor of you? I am in desperate need of someone to steady a ladder for me while I pluck a bit of mistletoe from that tree.” She pointed behind her.

The girl’s eyes widened. “I am so sorry. I am not supposed to speak to anyone!” She sounded terrified.

“I promise not to tell a soul I saw anyone here, and I would be ever so much in your debt,” Elizabeth pleaded. “It will only take a minute.”

“I should not….”

“Truly, I will say nothing. I would not even press you except that I have been having the most horrible day, and getting this mistletoe will make it a little bit better.”

The stranger bit her lip. “I suppose it would not hurt.” She made it sound like a question. “And I am sorry you have had a hard day.”

“Thank you so much! It is right over here.”

The girl followed her and listened carefully to Elizabeth’s explanation of the problem. Together they found a place where the short end of the ladder would rest on one of the tree roots protruding from the ground, making it closer to level. Then, with the stranger holding it in place. Elizabeth climbed up it until she could reach the first branch.

It had been some years since she had climbed a tree, but her old skills came back quickly. Soon she reached the branch which held the mistletoe. She pulled out her gardening shears and cut off a cluster, careful to leave enough to grow back. After wrapping the stem in her handkerchief to keep the sticky resin from her skin, she started to clamber back down.

Why was going down always scarier than going up? She had forgotten that little detail of tree climbing, how the view of the ground so far below made her head spin. Still, it was a challenge she relished, even if by the time she felt around for the top step of the ladder with her foot, her heart was pounding. But she had made it!

One step, then two. The ladder gave an ominous crack when Elizabeth reached the third rung. Before it could break completely, she jumped off. Naturally, since she was in front of a well-bred stranger, she tumbled to the ground, landing in a position that guaranteed she would be uncomfortable sitting down for Christmas dinner. She burst out laughing at her predicament.

“Oh, no! Are you hurt?” The girl’s eyes were wide.

“Only my dignity! But look, I got it!” She held up her prize triumphantly. “The magical mistletoe of Netherfield, and it is ours!”

“Magical? Why? Is mistletoe so hard to find here?” the girl asked.

“Harder than some places, though boys who climb the old oaks can often find some. But the mistletoe of Netherfield’s orchard has long been reputed to bring the best luck. Before they left, the Townsends always held a Christmas ball which often resulted in an unusual number of courtships and marriages. Everyone joked that the amazing Netherfield mistletoe was to blame for it. But then the Townsends left and put the place up for let, and that Christmas some boys came and took every last trace of mistletoe here and sold it as the magical Netherfield mistletoe, so there has been none since then.”

“But…” her voice trailed off, faced with the obvious evidence.

Elizabeth laughed. “No one knows about this. When I was visiting Netherfield last month, a gardener pointed this hidden clump out to me. Since the new tenants have left Netherfield, I decided no one would miss a small sprig of it. Even if it is not magical, it would bring a little hope to my family, which badly needs it.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” the girl said.

“Oh, it is nothing terrible! But my eldest sister has just been abandoned by the suitor we thought would marry her, and I was… well, not exactly being courted by a man, but the entire town knew I was his favorite, and I discovered only today that he was horribly deceitful. Not only to me, but to everyone, even though he seemed the most charming man in the world. That is why I am so out of sorts today and ready to climb a tree.” She had not meant to say all of that, especially not to a complete stranger, nor had she intended for her voice to shake when she spoke of that devil George Wickham.

“Oh!” the girl gasped, her eyes suddenly shiny. “I am so, so sorry. There is nothing so horrible as when you trust a man who says he loves you and then find out he is lying.”

Elizabeth pulled herself from her own distress long enough to notice that she had not in fact said that Wickham had loved her. Clearly this poor child was thinking of an experience of her own. What wicked man had broken her heart? Was that why she was so pale and wan?

At least Wickham had not fully invaded her own heart. No, her blow was much more to her pride. Vindictively she kicked at the base of the apple tree. “This to lying men! I hope he rots in his own midden.”

The stranger looked at her with wide eyes. “In a dunghill,” she said in a whisper, as if it were the first time in her life she had ever dared voice such a thought. “I hope someone breaks his heart and takes everything he holds dear, so he can learn what it feels like.”

“Yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I have been trying to think of the perfect thing to say to him if he should ever cross my path again.” Not that it was likely, after he had been caught with Colonel Foster’s new bride, damn him. He would never dare show his face in Meryton now. “Perhaps ‘It is a shame that a handsome face and charming manner should be wasted on a man with no morals or honor.’ But that is not quite insulting enough, is it?”

“No, he deserves worse, that horrid man! But what more can we do? What remedy does a woman have for a cad who has broken her faith? How can we ever believe someone who says they love us again?” Despair poured out in her words.

“I admit I will not give my trust to a man as freely in the future,” Elizabeth said slowly. “But I refuse to let him triumph over me or take away my ability to love.” She held up the sprig in her hand. “And that is where this comes in.”

Her brow wrinkled. “By trying to catch the interest of another man? But what if he is just as much of a deceiver?”

“No. By refusing to give up hope, even if I cannot imagine another man right now. Mr…. The cad would think himself a very fine fellow if he knew he had the power to make me give up on men, or even to make me hopeless and miserable. I will not give him that.”

“But how? I am hurt. How can I deny it?”

The poor girl! “You cannot deny your feelings. They are real and true. But you can decide not to let a bounder ruin your life. You can remember that there is hope, even if you cannot feel it right now.” Elizabeth dropped the mistletoe into her basket. “Do you know why we bring greenery into our houses at Christmastime? The tradition is far older than Christianity. It is to remind us that even in the darkest, coldest time of the year, there is still green. Spring will come someday, no matter how impossible that might seem when the plants are brown and dead. Even if it feels like your heart will never heal.” She took a deep breath. “Do not let any man take that away from you. There is a bit of greenery even in the deepest winter.”

The girl wrung her hands. “I came here to escape from Christmas. Everyone in Town kept talking about gaiety and parties, all the joy of the season. And there is no joy in my heart.”

How well she understood that! “I ran from my family today because I could not keep a smile on my face any longer. No doubt at Christmas I shall force myself to do so and pretend to a gaiety I do not possess, but I will also look at the evergreen boughs hung over the mantel and remind myself that spring will come. And I will think of even more horrible things to say to that selfish man who cares for nothing but himself. I will say in my mind, ‘Good riddance to you! I do not care this much for a miserable excuse for a human being like you!’” She snapped her fingers.

“Yes, good riddance!” The smallest of smiles broke through her somber expression. “Good riddance!” Clearly she was relishing the words.

It felt good to encourage this shy child, so she said, “And while I am looking at that green bough, I will say ‘good riddance’ to your horrid man, too, and think of throwing him in a pig midden!”

The stranger said, “I will do the same for yours! Though we have no greenery, since I wanted no reminders of Christmas.” She sounded wistful.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. “If I cut you one small green bough, will you put in on your mantelpiece so we can share that moment?”

A reckless glint came into her eyes. “I will put up all the evergreens! For you are right, that they have a different meaning.” She hesitated. “And I think my brother would like it, too.”

Elizabeth held up her garden shears. “Then let us cut greenery and wish our evil men into a cesspool!”