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

by Anna Campbell

  Jane had just reached the bottom stair when she heard a soft thud from across the room, followed by a curse.

  She knew that voice.

  “Duncan?”

  “Jane?” he hissed, followed by another curse, and she peered through the darkness to see what he was up to.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Looking for something,” he muttered back. “Never mind that. Why are you awake at this time of night?”

  “I… couldn’t sleep,” she said, heat rushing into her cheeks when she thought of just why that was the case, but she wasn’t about to share that with him. “I came down to find a book.”

  She crossed the room determinately to the bookshelf in the corner. Mary wasn’t much of a reader, but Billy must be.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he drawled. “Why ever not?”

  “My mind was on other things,” she said, choosing a book at random from the shelf and beginning to flip through the pages.

  “Like what?”

  “Like… the book that I was previously reading.”

  “If you can tell me what it was about at this very moment, then I will buy you every book you could ever wish for.”

  Jane bit her lip as she closed her eyes, trying to remember what she had been reading not long at all before.

  But she couldn’t. For all she could see was the vivid dream she had been having of Duncan—or, more specifically, of her and Duncan.

  She cleared her throat as she attempted to come up with something.

  “Well, there was a man.”

  “Oh?” he said, sounding quite interested in what else she had to say, and she hastily added, “And a woman.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. He chuckled lowly. “I think I would like to hear more about this.”

  “Nothing too interesting,” she said, trying to control her breath and her voice. “He was searching for her, followed some clues, and, in the end, he found her.”

  Her book hadn’t been anything at all like that, but she figured she had accomplished a fairly fine lie.

  At Duncan’s snort, however, she knew she was wrong about that.

  Jane tried to ignore the increased beating of her heart the closer she came to Duncan. It was as though the man’s very presence increased her pulse and caused all of the blood to pool and descend to the very place she wanted him.

  Which was ridiculous. Jane had never been the kind of woman to give into such base desires. She was level-headed, calm, and rational.

  Although she had also always been quite in tune with the emotions of others, and when it came to Duncan…

  “Jane?”

  She gasped when his whisper came from right behind her ear.

  “For a big man, you sure move stealthily,” she said, waiting for her heart to resume its normal beat. But that was not going to happen. Not when his hands slowly, so lightly they tickled, spanned her waist, before he locked them around one another, his arms pulling her back against him.

  She was still facing the shelf, but she had lost all capacity to read the titles before her. Duncan reached up and took the candle from her, placing it on a side table, which was likely for the best, as Jane seemed liable to drop it.

  “Duncan,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”

  “Holding you. Is that a crime?”

  “I…” Oh, goodness, he was kissing her neck. How did the most feather-light of touches cause such a thrill? “I suppose not.”

  “I didn’t think so,” he growled, his hands now skimming up and down her sides, and Jane groaned at the response they evoked.

  She leaned back into him, tilting her head to the side to provide him with better access. She really shouldn’t be doing this, and yet…

  “What was that?”

  Something sharp and prickly prodded the side of her head, and when she turned to try to see just what it was, she was only rewarded with another poke to the face.

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s the Christmas tree,” Duncan said with some bitterness, and Jane had to laugh at how fervently he hated it. She actually quite enjoyed the greenery in the house. It took up a great deal of space, but reminded her of home.

  All of those thoughts, however, soon fled as Duncan’s hands rose higher, cupping the underside of her breasts, and Jane inhaled sharply.

  “Duncan…”

  “You shouldn’t have roamed this house wearing just your night rail, you know that, do you not?”

  “I now see what perils there are in doing such a thing.”

  He chuckled lowly into her neck, and she turned in his arms. When she did so, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and she physically shivered at the touch.

  She lifted her mouth, meeting his, and this time she was the aggressor, seeking entry and torturing his tongue with hers.

  He finally wrenched his mouth away from hers with a groan, dropping his forehead against hers.

  “Oh, Jane,” he muttered. “This is a mistake.”

  “What?” she lifted her head from his. “How can you say such a thing? I thought you—that is—” she pursed her lips. “You were the one that started this.”

  “You’re right,” he said, running a hand over his face. “I did. But the problem is… if we go any further, I don’t think I will be able to stop.”

  “Then don’t,” she said, both her voice and her breathing ragged, and he stiffened in her arms, his hands resting around her ribs.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  Jane snorted. “I am the daughter of a physician and have spent a great deal of time assisting a midwife. I know perfectly well what I am asking, although this was not quite how I had thought to discover such a thing. Now…” She could hardly believe she was saying the words, but her desire seemed to overcome every hint of shyness that lurked within her, “shall we return to my chamber or to yours?”

  He hesitated for a moment, until he replied with his gutted words.

  “Yours.”

  She took his hand in hers before he changed his mind, and quickly they navigated around the Christmas tree, up the staircase, and down the corridor to her chamber.

  “How close are you to Billy and Mary’s room?” he murmured, and Jane answered that they were just down the hall. So he would have to ensure they remained as quiet as could be, he reasoned, already hardening just thinking of his time with her.

  Oh, he really shouldn’t be doing this. But he could no more drag himself away from her than he could return to Scotland leaving both Campbell sisters behind him.

  The moment they were through the door and she had shut it softly behind them, he spun her around and trapped her against it, pinning her there between his arms. He bent his head and tasted her once more, caught up in everything that was so uniquely Jane — her size, her shape, her scent, and her taste. He lifted her up, spinning her around and walking her toward the bed. It was not particularly large, certainly meant for just one person, but it would do.

  He allowed her feet to touch the floor once more, her calves pressing into the bed behind her. Her knees bent as she stretched out backward over the bed. Duncan covered her, which wasn’t overly difficult as she was so slight and small. A surge of protectiveness for her overcame him, and he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go.

  She nuzzled her face into the side of his neck and when a low mewling sound came from the back of her throat, he nearly sighed in wonderment.

  It didn’t take long to divest of her of the night rail that hadn’t been enough to hide her from him and his desires, and soon she was sprawled backward on the mattress, her dark hair shimmering on the pillow around her, her beautiful breasts waiting for his attention.

  “Are you…” she stammered when he did nothing but stare down at her, “are you going to… do anything?”

  He would have laughed was he not so focused on maintaining a sense of control, and he grinned wolfishly at her.

  “I am enjoying the view.”

&n
bsp; Jane’s eyes widened in shock, and when Duncan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, she kissed him back with a ferocity that would have knocked him off his feet. She kissed him with a passion unlike anything he had ever felt from another before, and he knew he had to do something before this ended far earlier than he would have liked.

  He slid down her body, pausing to attend to each of her breasts, to which she moaned in pleasure. He continued on until he settled beneath her legs, tracing his fingers over exactly where she wanted him. When she lifted herself to him, he tasted her, and she cried out. When she was finally trembling in wait for him, he knew she was ready, and he lifted his head. He raised himself onto his knees, but before this went any further, he needed one more thing.

  “Jane,” he ground out, more urgency in his words than he had intended, “look at me.”

  She followed his command, her eyes hooded in desire.

  “Do you still want this?” he asked, needing to hear the words one more time. “Do you want me?”

  “I’ve never wanted anything more,” she said, the words a hoarse whisper.

  And with that, he leaned down, placed his hands over her hips, and slowly pushed into her. It took everything within him to pause, until she was the one who began to move, and he answered her in kind.

  He met her gaze, her dark blue eyes soulful and seemingly staring right through him, learning his every thought. They had come together now, but in more than just the physical sense. He couldn’t describe it, but he knew that nothing between them — or within him — would ever be the same.

  She lifted her hands and began running them up and down his arms, her touch featherlight, and for a moment he would have sworn that he felt buoyed and more whole just from her ministrations.

  Until her fingernails bit into him as she tightened around him, and all thought fled as Duncan became lost in her. Her breath was quick, short, and Duncan began to pump feverishly as he tended to her breasts. She lifted her legs higher around him, and he twined his fingers into her silken hair as she exploded around him, which sent him following quickly, until he was hurtling over the edge and into her arms.

  It took him more than a moment to recover, and suddenly the best feeling he had ever known was replaced with panic.

  “Are you all right, Jane?” he asked, looking down at her, seeking an answer. “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head and he rested his forehead against hers.

  “That was magnificent,” she whispered.

  “No, Jane,” he said, shaking his head. “You are magnificent.”

  Chapter 11

  Duncan had wrapped one arm around Jane, pulling her closer so that she could lay her cheek on his chest to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there watching her, but he was just beginning to doze off when a sharp rap sounded on the door, followed by the call of Billy’s voice.

  “Jane! Jane! I’m so sorry to disturb you, but Mary is asking for you.”

  Jane gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed before looking between Duncan and the door, as though Billy was going to enter and find them naked together in bed.

  Duncan waved his hand toward the door, telling her to go ahead, but Jane was not waiting for his opinion. She was already out of the bed, running around the room as she threw on her night rail and splashed water on her face.

  “I’ll be right there!” she called. “What is happening, Billy? Does she have any pain? Is she bleeding at all? Is her head bothering her? Is—”

  “She’s just sick, Jane,” came Billy’s voice with a sigh from beyond the door. “Everything from dinner came back up again, and with my family coming tomorrow for the day…”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “That’s right. It’s Christmas Eve. I had forgotten.”

  She looked over to Duncan, who threw his hands up at his side, for he hadn’t been at all focused on the date. How long did this Christmas celebration last anyway?

  “Yes,” Billy said, somewhat dejectedly. “And I will be at the church all day and all evening, with the exception of dinner, so I am relying on you, Jane, to ensure that all is well. Are you coming?”

  “Yes!” she said, running to the door, with one quick look back at Duncan. Her lips quirked into a quick smile when he winked at her, and then she opened the door just far enough that she could fit through, and went running away with Billy.

  Duncan threw himself back on the bed, one arm over his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Last night had been the most incredible, intoxicating, unexpected experience of his life. And yet guilt nagged at him for taking Jane from what she was here for — her sister.

  He knew Jane wouldn’t welcome the distraction, but he couldn’t help his slight annoyance that she was expected to not only help Mary through the night, but to also prepare dinner tomorrow and entertain the entire Miller family once more. She was here to help Mary, not play housewife when her sister wasn’t able to.

  He had to prove to her that she was more than someone else’s caretaker, but a woman that everyone else deserved to see. He would ensure that she became well known in the Highlands, he promised himself — once she was his wife.

  His eyes flew open at the unbidden thought that had soared into his head. His wife? And yet… he looked at the rumpled bedclothes around him. He had known what kind of woman Jane was, and was aware that after all that had just occurred between them, Jane was probably expecting marriage.

  But what shocked him most was that, knowing what he must do, he was also filled with a strange peacefulness. Now, he just had to wonder — would she say yes?

  “Mary!”

  Jane rushed into her sister’s room, slightly sick herself when she found that Mary’s cheeks were nearly as white as the pillowcase behind her, while a slight sheen of sweat glistened across her brow.

  “Jane,” Mary groaned from her prone position. Her stare was not accusing, but it was… curious. “Where were you?”

  “I was… sleeping,” she lied. While she was aware that if there was anyone in this world who shouldn’t judge her — and most likely wouldn’t — it was Mary, who had become pregnant long before marriage and had then run off with the man, leaving another behind.

  Mary nodded. “Of course, Jane. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so adverse toward you. I just… oh, goodness.”

  Jane rushed over to her side, one hand coming to her sister’s abdomen at Mary’s grimace of pain. By Jane’s estimation — according to Mary’s recollection, at any rate — Mary should have a month or two until she was due to give birth, although she was becoming quite heavy with the child, and to Jane it seemed that her stomach had dropped rather low.

  “Are you feeling any pain?” she asked, to which Mary bit her lip.

  “Somewhat,” she said.

  “Cramping pains?” Jane asked, and Mary tilted her head as she hesitated.

  “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest, Jane,” she said. “I’ve felt so sick for so long that I hardly know how I feel anymore. I am nauseous, as always, but there is a… heaviness, I suppose you could say.”

  “I see,” Jane said, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn’t sure whether Mary was going to be having her baby today or in a week or two, but it seemed that her body was beginning to prepare for the event — likely sooner than Mary or Jane would have hoped. She would tell her sister once she was sure — but for now, she would avoid worrying her. “I’ll prepare some broth for you, Mary. It will help you feel better. This should pass. I don’t think there is much to worry about.”

  “Except that it is Christmas! It is one of the greatest celebrations of the whole year, Jane. What am I going to do? I’ll be expected to be at the church, and then here to host all of Billy’s family, not to mention all of the preparations that are required for dinner.”

  “There is nothing to worry about,” Jane said firmly, placing her hands over Mary’s. “That is why I’m here — to keep you from overtaxing yourself. I will take care of you — and Billy’s family.”

  And she
would forget Duncan McDougall for the time being — at least until Mary had the baby. She couldn’t deny that their coming together had been one of the most amazing events to ever happen to her; and yet, it had also caused her to be distracted from what really mattered — Mary’s wellbeing. What if Mary had gone into labor or had complications that had led to something happening to the baby — or worse yet, to Mary — all because Jane had been absent, caught up in her own love affair?

  On her way to the kitchen, she checked her bedroom to see if Duncan was still within, but he was gone, the only trace of him were the mussed-up sheets he had left behind.

  Duncan hadn’t been able to sleep again, so despite his exhaustion, he was sitting in the festive drawing room with a cup of coffee in hand when Billy came down the stairs, looking rather tired himself.

  “Morning,” Duncan said from the corner, and Billy responded with a nod.

  “Happy Christmas.”

  “I am told that today is a big day for you,” Duncan said as Billy began to fasten the buttons on his jacket.

  “Nothing else compares but Easter,” Billy said, moving onto his cuffs. “Although there is something about Christmas…” He trailed off, as though he expected Duncan to know what he meant.

  “And that is?” Duncan questioned, having never much celebrated Christmas before.

  “I suppose there’s a magic to it,” Billy said with a self-conscious smile as he poured his own coffee, prepared by Abigail, the one maid they employed. “Will you come to the church service?”

  “No,” Duncan said abruptly, knowing that Billy wouldn’t be pleased with his answer but unable to respond any differently. He had never been one to attend church before. It always reminded him of all of his sins and that he had far to go to become a man that God would ever entertain hosting following this life. He wasn’t about to start attending now.