Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1)

by Anna Campbell

  He had nothing but loyalty to the people he had pledged his life to, and now he felt that he had failed them. He refused to listen to reason that there was nothing he could have done.

  Then Mary had written, imploring Jane to come to London, telling her that she was far sicker than she naturally should be and that she needed her immediately. Jane, at least, had left a note for her father.

  She knew he would never understand, but she had done all she could to appease everyone.

  Jane looked over at her sister now, assessing her symptoms. Her face was pale, but at least she was taking a few bites of food. An appetite was good.

  She was no physician — that was her father’s calling — but between his experience as well as the tutelage of a woman in the village, she had become known for her abilities to help when needed — most appropriately, when her father was out and attention was required sooner rather than later.

  Which brought her here. She had some skills as a midwife, although she had always been more of an assistant than a midwife herself. But at least she could be here if her sister needed her. Thus far, despite a few scares, Mary seemed to be progressing as she should be, but one never knew when something could arise.

  “We’re not much for celebrating Christmas in Scotland,” Duncan said now, while Jane wished he would stop antagonizing Billy.

  “No?” Billy said, raising an eyebrow. “Not one to celebrate the birth of Christ?”

  Duncan shrugged. “We go to church, yes. Is that not what it’s all about? I can’t say I understand the rest of the frivolities. What’s the point of it all?”

  “To celebrate,” Billy said, looking at him as though he had lost his mind.

  “By placing tree droppings throughout the house?” Duncan said, raising his eyebrows. “By silly games and candy?”

  “Ah, so you have heard of how we celebrate Christmas, then,” Billy said with a smug grin, and Duncan sighed.

  “Some of it, most unfortunately.”

  “Well, then, we shall be pleased to introduce you to it for the first time,” Billy said. “Tomorrow some of my family will come to visit, and we will all join in the hunt for the most beautiful Christmas tree there ever was. My Mary deserves it this year, with all that she is going through.”

  He leaned over and placed his hand on his wife’s.

  Duncan screwed his brow in confusion, and Jane had to admit that she also questioned Billy’s words.

  “I’ve heard of this,” Duncan said with a snort. “Where do you find one in the middle of London?”

  Billy’s smile widened. “We purchase an evergreen and bring it in to decorate.”

  Duncan just stared at him for a moment before rubbing his brow. “You are saying you buy a tree. A cut tree. That will die in weeks.”

  “Well, yes,” Billy said, his tone defensive. “We all do so. Queen Victoria herself was the first in England.”

  “What is the purpose of such a tree?” Duncan asked, and Jane found herself interested in the answer as well.

  “We decorate it,” Billy continued. “Put candles on it, and celebrate around it. It was a German custom, brought here by her husband, Prince Albert. It’s quite the event, and rather fun as well.”

  “I see,” Duncan said, although now he was really and truly perplexed. “If you’ll excuse me now, I had best go retrieve the remainder of my things and bid farewell to my companions.”

  And with that, pushed away from the table and made for the exit. Jane followed him with her eyes until he was out of the door. She should be happy he had left for a time, for it provided her with a reprieve.

  Yet she couldn’t help but miss him already — just a little bit.

  Chapter 6

  “Happy Christmas!”

  “It’s not Christmas yet!”

  “Soon enough!”

  Billy’s family poured through the door, a huge group in a chorus of greetings and laughter and children darting in and out between their parents’ legs.

  Jane watched them all enter with wide eyes and a full heart. Her own home had always been rather quiet. It was just her and Mary, and while they had a great many visitors, for the most part, her parents had expected obedience.

  She had complied. Mary… not so much.

  “You must be Jane!”

  She suddenly found herself enveloped in the arms of a women with a rather generous bosom, before being quickly released as the woman moved on to Mary, although she seemed primarily occupied with holding on to Mary’s stomach.

  “Apologies. That was our mother.”

  Jane looked up to find a man wearing a good-natured smile standing before her. He had similar sandy brown hair coloring as Billy, and despite his lack of moustache, there was no mistaking the resemblance.

  “Nick,” he said, bowing over her hand. “Billy’s brother.”

  “Of course,” she said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I’m the second youngest of the bunch of us,” he said. “The closest to Billy.”

  “Are all seven of you here today?” Jane asked, looking around him, considering that it was quite possible with the number of people who had spilled in through the entrance of the small townhouse.

  “It rather looks like it, doesn’t it?” Nick said with a laugh. “But fortunately, no. Only the four of us are in London. But Audrey and Isaac are married with three children apiece so we take up a good deal of room. And Mother creates enough noise for three women.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t,” Jane said politely, to which Nick laughed even louder. A jolly sort, then, she realized.

  Suddenly the noise of the room seemed to lower a fraction, enough that only the children’s voices could be heard as they chased one another around the furniture, past the fireplace and back into the kitchen in search of snacks. Jane began to look about, curious as to what had drawn their attention, until she noted that Nick’s gaze was directed behind her. She turned to find Duncan standing there at her shoulder, and conflicting emotions began to battle within. While she had been enjoying the conversation with Nick, which Duncan’s presence seemed to have stilted, his arrival also sent an unexpected thrill of pleasure through her.

  Why, she could not say.

  He was ornery and annoying, and all she wanted was for him to return to the Highlands.

  Yet she couldn’t help but compare him to Nick, who was standing in front of her. Nick was a good-looking man to be sure, with a pleasant smile and easygoing countenance that drew her to him — but not in the way that Duncan did. Nick was a man who would make sense. Who would be steady, sure, and even.

  While Duncan stirred something deep within her that had never been active before.

  It was strange seeing him dressed in trousers with a shirt and jacket. She was used to him in his kilt, always wrapped in the McDougall plaid. He strained the seams of his jacket, and she couldn’t help but to allow her eyes to linger a moment on his shoulders and biceps.

  Unfortunately, he noticed, and his eyes darkened as they caught hers from across the room while his lips turned up at the corners.

  Nick must have observed the exchange, for he began to look back and forth between the two of them.

  “I didn’t realize that you were… er—”

  “Oh, no!” Jane exclaimed, realizing what he had assumed. “I’m not… that is, we’re not—” Duncan had crossed the room toward her and she looked at him in supplication, and he smirked for a moment before stepping in to actually help.

  “I am a friend of Jane and Mary’s family,” he said smoothly, and Jane smiled in thanks, although a pang of regret struck her at the truth of his words. But it was exactly as he had said — he was a friend of the family and nothing more, here on her father’s bidding. “Duncan McDougall.”

  “I see,” Nick said, raising his eyebrows as though he did not quite believe it. “Well, welcome to England, Duncan McDougall and Miss Campbell.”

  “Jane is fine,” she said with a smile, hoping that whatever
Nick assumed, they could be friends.

  “Are we ready?” Mrs. Miller clapped her hands as her voice overcame the chatter among the remainder of the group, and they all turned to her with nods as the children burst forward from the back rooms.

  Jane stepped backward away from them all, in doing so bumping into Duncan, who placed a hand on the small of her back as though protecting her from the rest of them. She took a small step forward just away from him, for his touch sent far too many unwanted tingles running through her.

  “We’re ready,” Billy said, draping a cloak around Mary’s shoulders, and Jane smiled at how loving he was toward her sister. She went to collect her own cloak from her bedroom upstairs, and by the time she returned, she was the last out the door — except for one figure.

  “Are you coming?” she asked Duncan, who was leaning against one wall, not seeming to have any inclination to leave. He shrugged.

  “There is not much else for me to do here, now is there?”

  She sighed as she stared at him in some supplication. “Must you always be like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “So… ornery,” she said, throwing his own word back at him. “I completely understand why you might be hesitant in joining Billy’s family, but you were the one who invited yourself to stay here with them. You must now accept the consequences that come with remaining in England.”

  One corner of his lips quirked up somewhat sheepishly. “Like Christmas?”

  “Exactly,” she said with a nod. “We are going to be here for the season. We might as well enjoy ourselves and see what the holiday is all about, no?”

  “Very well,” Duncan mumbled. “Let’s go buy ourselves a cut tree.”

  “That’s the spirit,” she said with as much gaiety as she could muster, and then she led him out the door.

  Their destination was not particularly far, but it did take some time, with the lot of them trudging down the road to a small shop that had been set up for the season. It wasn’t much — fencing had been erected for this purpose, or perhaps it remained up all year, Duncan wasn’t sure. But the square was filled with trees of every shape and size, while a man stood at the front making sales.

  The Miller family took up nearly the entire enclosed area, as they all called out their preferences to one another.

  “Most certainly this one, Uncle Billy!” called one of the children.

  “That’s far too short, Florence! How about this one?” called out another child — Owen, Duncan thought he had heard him called.

  “Your eyes are too rich, lad!” Billy called back good-naturedly. “For one, my drawing room is not high enough, and secondly, my pocketbook is not full enough!”

  The adults had a laugh at that, while they all continued on to look for what they called “the perfect tree.”

  Duncan could only stand there and scratch his head. The evergreens were like a forest in and of themselves here in this city block, some greenery among the brown landscape of winter.

  “You must admit that it is rather lovely to see some nature in the midst of London,” Jane said, looking up at him with a dreamy smile. “And that smell.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “Isn’t it heavenly, Duncan?”

  She was right. The scent filling his nostrils was both fresh and freeing. And yet… it was not the scent that currently had him so captivated, but the sight in front of him. Jane’s dark brown hair was pulled back softly at the nape of her neck, her cape draped around her shoulders and her head tilted up to the sky while her entire being was backdropped by the tree shop behind her. She was, quite honestly, a vision.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him expectantly, making him realize that she had asked him a question which he had completely forgotten to answer.

  “I’m sorry… what was that?”

  “I said, does it not smell heavenly?” she repeated, a bit self-consciously now, as though his lack of response had been a failing on her own part. “A silly question, perhaps.”

  “Not at all,” he said gruffly. “You are right. I can admit that it is quite… lovely.”

  She laughed lightly, her chuckle a little thrill that warmed him through. He longed to reach out and stroke her cheek, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. Which was ridiculous. Duncan was not a man who had ever been reduced to such romantic notions. He was a Highlander — one who, despite the fact everything had changed a century ago, still maintained as many traditions of his ancestors as possible in their current reality.

  “Come,” she said, tilting her head. “Let’s go look.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going in there.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because, I—”

  He had no answer, really. Somehow, he had the sense that by following the Millers, he was giving in to everything they were and weakening the barrier he had placed between himself and the English.

  “You have no answer to that,” she finished for him quite correctly. When she tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow and began leading him, he found that he was not physically strong enough to resist her.

  He, Duncan McDougall, who had never lost a fight and intimidated everyone he met, was bested by this little slip of a woman — one whom he had not even noticed the previous times they had apparently met. What was wrong with him?

  When Jane looked at him with that expectation in her eyes, it was as if there was some part of him that just couldn’t refuse her, he realized with great shock and not just a little bit of trepidation. Already he was remaining in England with her, and now he was going to follow her into a make-believe forest of trees in the middle of London when they had more in Scotland than one could ever explore in a lifetime.

  “Please?” she said quietly, and he was sunk. Into the evergreens they went, first finding, of course, Mary and Billy. Mary’s cheeks were quite flushed, but Billy’s arm was around her, and it seemed she was enjoying herself.

  “Isn’t this silly fun?” she asked, to which Jane nodded, although Duncan caught a look of concern on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, and Jane looked up at him, meeting his eye.

  “It’s Mary,” she said softly so that no one else could hear. “I’m worried that she might be overexerting herself.”

  “Then tell her so.”

  “I don’t want to ruin her fun. Look how happy she seems.”

  My Jane seems to be quite the people-pleaser.

  He stopped. My Jane? Where had that come from? He shook the thought from his head.

  “What could happen if she overexerts herself?” he asked.

  Jane sighed. “She has spells of nausea so great that she can’t keep anything down, including water. It’s dangerous for both her and the baby to be without sustenance.”

  “Well, then,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t think there is much to question, is there? She asked you here to look after her. That’s your responsibility now, even if it is somewhat unpleasant.”

  “You’re right,” she said with a determined nod as she straightened her shoulders. “Thank you, Duncan.”

  She released his arm and he felt the loss more than he would like to admit, but before she could approach Mary, Billy called out that they had found “the one,” and the entire group let out a cheer of celebration while Jane released an audible sigh of relief.

  Duncan stepped up behind her and placed a hand on her elbow.

  “I’ll help look out for her on the trek home,” he said. “Not to worry.”

  The grateful smile she sent his way went right to his heart, and he wondered at these strange feelings this London visit was bringing his way.

  For they were not typical of Duncan McDougall.

  Not typical at all.

  Chapter 7

  The Miller family overlooked Duncan’s obvious reluctance to participate in the festivities in favor of his strength when it came time to return with the Christmas tree. He tried to resist and grumble out a denial to t
heir request that he carry it home, but then Jane had looked up at him with that trusting smile of hers and the next thing he knew he had hefted it up on his shoulders and they were back on the road to the Millers’ townhouse.

  Somehow along the way, he completely lost track of Jane, and soon enough the tree was bobbing precariously low over his shoulders and he had to keep his gaze straight ahead or else risk a face full of pine needles.

  He knew without turning around to look that Billy’s brother, who had been holding up the back end of the tree, was now conspicuously absent.

  “Through the front door?” he asked as they approached the house, which, if he hadn’t known better, seemed to open the door itself and welcome them within, telling them that they belonged there with their newly acquired greenery.

  “In we go!” he heard Billy’s voice call gaily, and by some miracle the tree fit through the door. Duncan was directed to place it within a small metal tub that had been prepared in the middle of the drawing room, around which he and Billy placed rocks to keep it standing upright. By the time he was done, despite the chilly winter air that had followed them in, he had to wipe a drop of sweat from his brow. He noticed the cat step into the room, who eyed the tree with some trepidation. Everyone else, however, seemed quite thrilled by it.

  “Well done!” Billy said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, to which Duncan turned and looked at with some disbelief. Billy seemed oblivious to Duncan’s hostility, although it was proving more and more difficult to completely dislike the man who had stolen Mary’s affections — not that they had ever been Duncan’s to begin with.

  Instead, Duncan took a step back and followed Billy’s gaze toward the evergreen in front of them. The drawing room, which had already been rather cheerful and bright, was now filled with the fresh scent of pine, and the tree looked quite at home where it now stood next to the fireplace, inside which the embers were already coming back to life after one of the multitudes of family members had obviously stoked them.