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

by Anna Campbell

  Duncan heard Billy’s exclaim before the chorus began.

  “God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…”

  What in the…

  Duncan didn’t think he actually wanted to know what this was all about, but before he could tell himself not to, he was on his feet and halfway across the room. It was only when he reached the door that he realized Jane and Mary had joined them. Mary was wrapped in a blanket, while Jane had one protective arm around her. Mary looked positively green, but also quite determined.

  “Billy?” Mary said with question, and he looked back at them before sweeping an arm out in front of him.

  “My family!” he said, although that was obvious. “Although, tonight they are carolers.”

  “What are carolers?” Jane asked, looking back at Duncan, but he could only shrug. Billy, however, had heard her question, and explained that people gathered together to go to other people’s doorsteps singing Christmas songs.

  Duncan scratched his head. Why would you listen to other people sing when you could sing yourself? He looked around in the room, spotting the pianoforte in the corner, and he wondered whether Jane could play.

  Why was he spending so much time wondering about Jane? He had far more to concern himself with. He turned around to return to the chair by the fire that he was loathe to admit was rather comfortable, when he caught Jane’s expression. It was one of rapture. She was completely mesmerized by the sight in front of her, her lips curled into a soft smile as she stared at Billy’s family below her.

  They finished their first song, to which Duncan begrudgingly clapped along with Jane, Mary, and Billy, and then they launched right into the second. How long was he going to have to stay here and watch this? He wondered. He never should have gotten up. But just as he thought that, the first line of “Away in a Manger,” began in the little voice of none other than the tiny Amelia. When she looked up at him with those big blue eyes shining with joy, he was suddenly glad that he had the opportunity to witness such a strange yet wonderful occurrence.

  And then, when Billy wrapped his arm around Mary and pulled her close, Jane leaned into Duncan. The pressure was slight, and, he sensed, nearly unconscious, but still, it was there. He longed to tuck her in next to his side, but instead, he maintained control and looked down at the top of her chestnut head of hair, pulled back into its usual smooth, unadorned style.

  “They sound beautiful,” she breathed, to which Duncan had to admit was the truth. They were a rather talented family, even if they were singing nonsensical songs about a holiday that should be celebrated with a church service and not by decorating a tree in the middle of the house.

  “The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay,” Amelia finished, and a drop of moisture began to bead at the corner of Duncan’s eye. What was that? No. He was not becoming teary eyed by the family of Billy Miller standing on the steps singing songs about the birth of a baby two thousand years ago.

  But… the children’s high melodies, a low bass somewhere in the back, and all of the altos and baritones in between converging into one song about not just a baby boy but a saviour for all the world, well… perhaps he was not so immune to emotion after all.

  He cleared his throat and looked away, hoping no one would see, but of course Jane was smiling up at him, clearly pleased with his response. Her own eyes were rather glossy, and he couldn’t help himself from bringing her closer against his side. He paused for a moment, waiting for her to lean back from him, to push away or even politely step to the side, but instead, she shifted her weight to her left foot so that she was even closer, and practically melted into him.

  Every nerve within Duncan came alive, and a surge of possessiveness coursed through him. He may not have seen Jane when he met her back in the Highlands months ago, but now he could see nothing but her.

  When the family finished, Jane, Mary, and Billy began to clap for them, and Duncan reluctantly returned his arm to his body in order to join in.

  As Billy started down the steps to join his family, Jane helped Mary back into the house. Duncan followed, hoping that the tension between them had broken and the two of them could actually have a conversation.

  But then she was gone, up the stairs, and he was alone again once more.

  Chapter 9

  “What’s going on with you?”

  Jane looked toward the bed, where Mary was considerably less pale today, thank goodness.

  “What are you talking about?” Jane asked as innocently as she could.

  Mary tilted her head and pursed her lips.

  “Come now, Jane. There is no one in this world who knows you better than I do, and I can tell that you are… on edge.”

  “Not at all,” Jane said with a soft smile. “I am simply doing all I can to ensure you are well.”

  “I thought you said there was nothing to worry about.”

  Jane bit her lip. In her attempt to hide any of her thoughts regarding Duncan she had chosen the wrong excuse, for the last thing she wanted was for Mary to worry.

  “You’re right. There isn’t — so long as you continue to eat and drink when you can. The greatest risk to you and the baby right now is that you do not take in all that you need.”

  “Try telling that to my stomach,” Mary muttered, and Jane crossed the room with a glass of water in hand and gave it to Mary, who reluctantly tipped it against her lips. “I feel much better today, Janey, I promise.”

  Jane smiled at the use of her childhood name. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Now,” Mary said with a pointed look, “out with it. Does whatever is concerning you have anything to do with Duncan?”

  “Duncan?” Jane asked, swallowing hard. “Why ever would you think that?”

  “Because you have been avoiding him for the past few days, and anytime you hear his voice or someone mentions his name, your face turns red. What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Jane mumbled, hoping that Mary would leave it be, but once Mary was onto something, she refused to let it go. Add that to Mary being quite bored…

  “Jane.”

  “Very well,” Jane said with a sigh. “We may have… shared a kiss.”

  “Ah, yes,” Mary said triumphantly, “so I heard.”

  “You knew?” Jane exclaimed, and Mary nodded smugly.

  “I did. I was wondering how long it would take you to share the story with me.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Amelia. She was quite concerned about what Mr. McDougall was doing to you.”

  Jane winced.

  “Yes. Well. I am fine as it happens.”

  Mary smiled impishly. “And now?”

  “Now what?” Jane asked with a shrug. “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

  “Jane!”

  “What?” Jane asked defensively. “You broke off your engagement without even telling him!”

  “Yes, but I was not the one who created such a relationship to begin with,” Mary said, her nose in the air. “From the sounds of it, you were a willing participant in this kiss.”

  “I was,” Jane said with a sigh.

  “So?” Mary prodded.

  “I don’t know!” Jane said, flinging her hands in the air. “To him, it was likely nothing of note. But even if it was… Mary, not only was he engaged to marry you, but he kidnapped me, thinking I was you! That is hardly the ideal beginnings of a relationship.”

  “Ah, so you are thinking of a relationship!” Mary said with a grin, and Jane could only roll her eyes.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “But you love me anyway.”

  “Of course I do.” Jane sighed. “I suppose I best go talk to him.”

  “I suppose you should,” Mary said. “I’ll be just fine. Will you please send Billy in to see me?”

  “Very well,” Jane said, reluctantly standing and dragging her feet to the door. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck!” Mary said gleefully, and if nothing else, Jane was pleased that Mary was
feeling better — or, at the very least, distracted.

  Her heart started beating nervously. She had never been one to confront things head on. She supposed it was time to start.

  “Duncan?”

  He had been standing in front of the window overlooking the street before the house. The Christmas tree was to his right, while the white frame of the window bracketed his muscular build.

  “Jane,” he said, turning around, his face unreadable as he stared at her. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “You were?” Jane said, her pulse quickening, but then she shook her head, not wanting to seem too eager. “I mean, what were you thinking about?”

  “That you were avoiding me.”

  Jane dropped her gaze for a moment before summoning up the courage to meet his once more.

  “I was.”

  “But no longer, I hope?”

  “No,” she said, then took a breath. “Duncan, I—”

  “Shall we go for a walk?”

  “A walk?” she repeated, sounding like a parrot but surprised at his words.

  “Aye,” he said. “This house is… small. And I’m not used to being confined indoors for so long a time. Where shall we go?”

  “I believe there is a green not far,” she said. “It isn’t much, but there are, at the very least, some trees that line the path and might make you feel that you are outdoors.”

  “Good enough,” he said reluctantly. “Fetch your cloak.”

  She nodded and hurried upstairs, returning momentarily.

  When they walked through the front door, he crooked his elbow toward her. “I shall escort you like the proper gentleman.”

  Jane couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you were not in favor of English customs.”

  “I’m not,” he said, and then a corner of his lip curled up with surprising cheekiness. “However, if it means the opportunity to hold a lass close, well then,” he shrugged, “perhaps the English are onto something.”

  The air was crisp as they walked down the street, chimneys spewing their smoke into the air high above the little rows of houses.

  “How is Mary?” Duncan asked.

  “As bold as ever today, so she must be feeling better,” Jane said with a smile.

  “How did you become interested in the work you do?” Duncan asked, and Jane kept her gaze ahead as she explained.

  “My father is a physician, as you know, and he was always coming home with one story or another,” Jane said. “While the medical issues always horrified Mary, I was fascinated by how humans could have such control over the body. It’s a balance, really, and interesting that we could have so much effect on it. While my father would never teach a daughter how to become a physician, he often worked with the local midwife.”

  “Morwyn.”

  “Yes,” Jane nodded. “She let me accompany her on a few visits to pregnant women and to births, and I was quite intrigued. I began to gather my own assortment of expertise. I am not particularly skilled at any one thing, but I have an idea of how to help others should the need arise.”

  “That is useful knowledge,” he said. “I shall be sure to call on you if I am ever in need.”

  “Be sure you do,” Jane said quietly, thinking of another time, another place when they would be back in the Highlands. Would Duncan ever look at her again, or even think of her at all after they returned?

  They had walked down the entirety of the lane now, and were approaching the green space she had seen earlier but had not yet explored. A pebbled path led through the trees, and Duncan inhaled deeply as they reached it.

  “It’s not quite the same,” he said, catching her eye, “but it’s something.”

  “It’s something,” she agreed, and he tugged her arm in tighter against him. Soon enough they were surrounded by evergreens and a few beech trees which had likely been leafless for a month or so now. “Look,” she said as she tilted her head back, “it’s beginning to snow.”

  It was as though the sky had opened and God was dropping the thick white flakes right down upon them. Jane couldn’t help herself. She stuck out her tongue, catching one in midair. She laughed at Duncan’s surprised expression.

  “Try it,” she said, nearly breathless, and he hesitated for a moment, but then dipped his head back and did the same.

  He caught one as Jane stepped back and spun around, the flakes coming faster and thicker around her.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as the trees around them were now just visible in the falling snow.

  “Very,” Duncan said, the word sounding reverent, and the way he rolled his Rs caused a tremble deep within Jane. She took a breath as they both sobered, seemingly aware that they could no longer ignore what was growing between them.

  “Duncan—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, however, she was in his arms, being kissed senseless once again. All she could do was fist a hand in his hair and hold on tight.

  Duncan was well aware that Jane wanted to talk to him. But he had never been much for words — he was far more a man of action. He had no idea what he wanted to say to her. All he knew was that he didn’t want to let go of this Jane Campbell, and there was only one way to explain it.

  The trouble was, he wanted her with every fibre of his being, and he was not entirely sure how she was going to react to such a revelation.

  His hands were everywhere as he sought to be closer to her — under her cloak, around her waist, up to cup her ribs before stroking her back. She didn’t seem to have any issue with it, for she was holding onto him with a strength he would never have thought was within her.

  “Jane,” he groaned as he ached for her, throbbing with need for attention — attention only Jane could provide.

  She stepped back from him, looking up and searching his eyes as though they would hold some answer she was seeking, and he knew she must be feeling as he did.

  “Duncan,” she said, her breaths coming quickly, “I did want to talk.”

  “I’m not much of a talker.”

  “I realize that.”

  “My family… well, we’re not particularly close. I was my parents’ only child. My mother could never carry another baby to birth, and my father blamed her for it. You’ve met him. He is cold, harsh, a man of discipline. The two of them avoided one another until my mother passed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “She was so weak most of her life that she wasn’t able to do much to raise me anyway. And my father, well, he has taught me what I need to know, but that is about it. I’m not entirely sure how to say what I feel.”

  “Just say what is on your heart,” she said softly, to which he grimaced.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Jane,” he said, his words harsher than he had intended. “To me, women have always been… women. I’ve never had any particular feelings for them, other than knowing when I’m attracted to some of them and not attracted to others.”

  “Well, you never noticed me,” she said with a frown. “In fact, you forgot me.”

  “I did,” he admitted, grinding his teeth. “Jane, I’ve never taken any particular time to get to know any woman well enough to determine if I might like her beyond what I could see.”

  “What about Mary?”

  He grimaced. “I suppose I did get to know Mary well enough, but all I found was that the two of us did not get on particularly well.”

  Jane smiled at that.

  “I can see why that might be. You’re both rather… headstrong.”

  He inclined his head in agreement.

  “True. And you, Jane—”

  “Allow people like you and Mary to do as you please?”

  He shook his head.

  “That wasn’t at all what I was going to say. In fact, I was going to say that you are the perfect balance. You’re a calming presence. Considerate when others might not be thinking what they need to. And somehow, with your patience, you’re able to keep Mary to her bed when necessary.�
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  Jane laughed lightly at that. “That is not an easy feat.”

  “No, it is not,” Duncan said, stepping in toward her, closing any space that remained between them. He brought his index finger underneath her chin, tipping her head up toward him.

  “I’m not proud of missing you before, Jane,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “But I see you now. And I’m glad for it.”

  Then he sealed his words with one more kiss that left even him, the great Duncan McDougall, quaking in his boots.

  Chapter 10

  Jane couldn’t sleep. How could she possibly after all that had happened with Duncan that afternoon? She could admit to holding out some hope that he would kiss her again — after all, he seemed quite the virile man. But that he would share with her words that led her to believe that he just might be interested in more than a short liaison… now she just had to decide if that was what she wanted as well.

  The only problem? She couldn’t get past the emotion he evoked within her, nor the physical desire his touch summoned forth.

  It was maddening. Jane knew many young men and had been attracted and interested in them before. But none to the extent of Duncan McDougall.

  She had awoken in a light sweat despite the cold winter night, and she swung her legs over the bed and padded over to the window. She pushed back the curtain to see that the London street below her was blanketed in a light dusting of snow, and she smiled at the sight. If it was going to be cold, it might as well be a beautiful white. She loved when the frost coated the trees, as though they had been dipped in sugar.

  Jane had no idea what time it was, but from the complete absence of any movement outdoors, she assumed it must be the middle of the night, and yet, she was completely awake. How she was ever going to find slumber again was beyond her.

  She resigned herself to the fact that she was likely going to be up for a few hours. She ran her hands over the mantel on top of the fireplace until she found the matchbox, and lit the candle next to her bed. Finding her book, she opened it to the last page she had read, but sighed when she realized she had but a chapter left. Making short work of it, she soon found herself off the bed once more, but this time she was headed downstairs in search of another book that would hopefully lull her to sleep.