“You should consider it,” Billy said lightly. “Listen, Duncan… I must spend all of today at the church, and I was wondering if you could look out for Mary? I know Jane is here, but Mary… she’s not well, and I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong. Would you do that?”
His eyes were squinted as though it pained him to ask, which made sense considering all of the background between them. But even Duncan couldn’t resist the plea to look after a pregnant woman.
“Of course,” he said. “Besides, I’ve not much else to do.”
“Did you find a gift for Jane?” Billy asked, sitting down across from Duncan, who looked beside him at the object sitting on the side table.
“I’m working on it.”
“Good,” Billy said, drumming the fingertips of his free hand on his knee. “Well, I best be off. If you need me, the church isn’t far.”
“Very well.”
“Oh, and Duncan?”
“Yes?”
“My family will be arriving after the church service. They are coming to help — with the pudding, the mulled wine, the mince pies, and all that. Their intentions are good, but as you are aware, there are many of them, and they can be rather—”
“Overwhelming?” Duncan supplied drolly, and Billy pointed a finger at him.
“Exactly,” he said. “I wish you the best of luck.”
Duncan could only sigh as Billy left, wishing dearly for his quiet study and peaceful hills at home at Galbury Castle. Soon enough, he told himself, momentarily guilty for the thought, for he knew that Mary wasn’t due to birth her baby for some time. He just had to get through Christmas, and then all would be well. One more day.
In the meantime, he could hardly wait to see Jane again. He peeked beside him at the wooden carving he had been working on, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it quite right. Something was missing, and he wasn’t sure how to bring it together.
Jane was frazzled. She knew Billy’s family would be arriving in a few short hours, but there was much to do before then. Mary’s maid would be attending church, but Jane would stay in order to be with Mary — she was certainly not leaving her alone.
She had tidied her own room before anyone discovered evidence of the night before and had just finished donning an old work frock to wear for preparations around the house when she sensed a presence in the doorway and looked up, aghast to find Mary standing there dressed in a very full yet very beautiful navy gown.
“Mary!” Jane exclaimed, as her sister was visibly leaning on the doorframe for support. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I’m going to church,” Mary said, her face set in determination, and Jane was already shaking her head.
“You absolutely are not.”
“I’m the vicar’s wife!” Mary exclaimed. “I must be present.”
“Mary,” Jane said as diplomatically as she could, “I am sure that all will understand that in your condition—”
“I have been in this condition for months now,” Mary said. “And the church isn’t far if I am going to be sick.”
Or if she was going to give birth, Jane thought, although she didn’t voice the words. Not yet.
“How are you feeling?”
“Just fine,” Mary said, pushing off the doorframe and placing her hands on her hips. “Never better.”
“Mm…hm,” Jane said, looking Mary over, although she sensed that this was a battle she was not going to win. “Very well,” she sighed. “We shall go, but if anything is amiss, we are leaving, no matter where we are in the service. Is that fair?”
Mary smiled faintly. “Of course.”
Time to change.
Duncan was not particularly well-versed in ladies’ fashion, but he would have considered that Jane looked quite fine in whatever she wore, although she typically favored plain gowns without much of the shape or adornments he saw on many of the Englishwomen.
When he heard her step on the stair, however, he looked up from his seat and his jaw dropped open. She was wearing a plaid skirt, a linen shirt, and a vest laced up in the front. Her hair was parted in the center, but braided on each side, coming together in coils at the bottom, where they wrapped around one another. He had never been as stunned by her as he was at that moment.
She looked like a Highland queen — his queen.
He stood up at attention to greet her as she descended the staircase. He reached out a hand, ready to tell her how beautiful she looked, but her eyes were full of concern and her words were as stilted and practical as they had ever been.
“Mary is determined to attend the service this morning,” she said, her jaw set in such a way that it was obvious Jane was not particularly pleased with this plan. “However,” she lowered her voice, “she is not well. I agreed to attend with her, but told her we will leave at the soonest sign of any pain. Will you come with us in case anything happens?”
Duncan hesitated. He had no intentions of attending, but he also wasn’t sure how he could deny Jane — of this, or anything else.
“Please?” she added, which ended any of his remaining internal argument.
“Very well,” he said. “When are we leaving?”
“Soon,” she said firmly. “You look fine as you are. No need to change.”
“Are we walking?”
“Aye,” she said. “The church isn’t far. It’s closer than the livery.”
Duncan nodded, eyeing Jane critically and sensing something was amiss.
“Jane, is everything all right?” he asked quietly. “Are you all right? After—”
“I’m fine,” she said with a smile he was well aware was forced. “Never better. We best go.”
Then she turned around and started up the stairs, leaving Duncan scratching his head, an odd ache in his chest.
She meant more to him than any woman ever had and likely ever would. Here he was, thinking of marriage after knowing her for just over a week. While she, however, did not seem affected in the least. Did last night mean nothing more to her than a chance experience?
She hadn’t used him for their sexual encounter — had she? If she had… well, Duncan deserved it, for he had done so enough times in his own years. But Jane had so much goodness within her, he was sure that wasn’t the case.
If it was, he had no idea just what he was going to do.
Chapter 12
Jane was well aware that Duncan was uneasy. She just wasn’t sure if it was due to his attendance at a Christmas service, or to his reaction to her. She was aware that he had wanted to talk to her, and that conversation would be had — just not at the moment. There was too much else on her mind for her to properly decide if what she felt for Duncan was enough to overcome the fact that not only had he originally been betrothed to her sister, but that he was not the most temperate of men. He was surly, obstinate, and gruff. He was also determined to get his way, and had no issue in providing his opinion — even when it was not requested and certainly not necessary.
And yet, she had more feelings for him than she had ever had for another, and she wasn’t sure how to keep herself away — or if she even should.
But today was Christmas, Mary was due to have the baby soon, and the entire Miller family was set to arrive shortly after the church service.
Duncan would have to wait.
Their progress to the church had been slow — Jane on one side of Mary, Duncan on the other. She had taken one step after the other with more determination than Jane had ever seen her approach something before.
Snow had started to fall once more, and Jane kept her eyes on the road before them to make sure they didn’t hit any icy patches, although she would have preferred to enjoy the view before them, of the quaint little houses with their light dusting of snow.
Mary and her obstinance. She was so concerned about what her husband’s parishioners might think that she was risking her health — and that of her baby.
Jane tried to catch Duncan’s eye, but he, too, was looking straight ahead
with concern.
They finally made it to the little chapel, Duncan holding the door open for them as they entered. Jane’s arm brushed against him as she walked by, and even through all of their layers of clothes, a little tingle of awareness shot through her from where they had touched.
Parishioners turned and greeted them as they entered, with an affectionate welcome for Mary and more than one curious glance toward Duncan. He walked stiffly beside them to the front of the church, obviously not at all at ease within the surroundings.
Despite her concern for her sister, Jane was overcome with the warm comfort that radiated throughout the church. Much like Billy and Mary’s home, greenery that looked like evergreen boughs and holly was spread over railings, the altar, and wall sconces which, along with the candles, lined the church, casting a warm glow along with the light that shone through the small windows in a row at the top.
And right in front of their pew, beside the corner fireplace, was a nativity scene, with painted wooden figures laid out on the straw.
Barn animals, wisemen, and shepherds surrounded Mary and Joseph, who were crouched over a little manger holding the baby Jesus.
“Duncan,” Jane breathed, “Isn’t it beautiful?”
He nodded, but was looking around the church, his challenging gaze meeting all of those who stared upon him, and Jane sighed. She understood his reluctance, but how to convince him that these people were only curious about who he was and what he was doing here?
“I thought we were going to sit at the back,” was all he muttered, and Jane shrugged.
She had been unable to convince Mary otherwise. She looked over at her sister, who was currently sucking in air through her nose and then blowing it out through her mouth as Jane had taught her to attempt to ease the nausea. Jane reached into her pocket and withdrew a vial of peppermint oil. She passed it to Mary who held it under her nose, inhaling deeply before sending Jane a smile of thanks.
Jane felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to find Nick and the rest of the Miller family had filled the pew behind them. She greeted them all, as did Mary, before the organist struck her first note and the small church was filled with voices singing a song celebrating the birth of Christ. As Billy stepped up to the pulpit, he sent a surprised look their way before tenderly smiling at Mary, and suddenly Jane realized just why Mary had been so determined to attend. She had thought her sister had wanted to keep up appearances, but that wasn’t it at all. She had simply wanted to support her husband.
Shame at her thoughts washed over Jane, and she reached beside her and squeezed Mary’s hand in a silent apology as she opened her mouth and joined in the song.
Jane didn’t pay as much attention to the entirety of the service as she should have, for she was too focused on ensuring that all was well with Mary. After her initial bout of nausea, she seemed much better, and continued to look up at her husband with adoring eyes. Jane turned to Duncan, finding that he was still sitting as stiff as could be, his fingertips tapping against his knee in what Jane had come to recognize as a fit of nerves.
She reached out and placed her hand overtop of his to halt the restlessness, and he looked over at her with some reproach.
“Am I bothering you?” he whispered, and Jane shook her head.
“No,” she said softly, biting her lip, wondering why he was being so defensive. “I just wish that you were able to relax.”
“I’m fine,” he said, his words short. “Don’t worry about me.”
But Jane was worried. Now between Duncan, her sister, and the preparations to come for that evening’s dinner, she had lost all concentration. The spirit that had filled her when she entered the church had fled, leaving her with some panic in her belly, and suddenly she needed to be out of the church and into the open air with an intensity she could hardly stifle.
While she would never, ever, have wished any ill on Mary, her sister provided her with the perfect excuse.
“Jane.” Mary clutched the sleeve of her linen shirt. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Jane didn’t waste any time confirming with Mary or asking any further questions. Instead, she murmured the news to Duncan and then took her sister’s elbow, escorting her out of the pew, down the aisle, and through the church.
They made it just in time, as Mary was sick on the snow just beyond the steps.
“Good timing,” Jane said just as Duncan pushed through the doors and followed them out.
“Best we go home,” he said, looking around. “The snow is starting to fall in earnest. Wouldn’t like you to have to walk through anything worse than this.”
Mary nodded uncharacteristically meekly, worrying Jane, for Mary never agreed to do as she was told.
Fortunately, she was able to make it home, where she collapsed on the sofa in the drawing room.
“Should you not go upstairs?” Jane asked with a wince, but Mary was already shaking her head.
“Absolutely not,” she answered. “There is much to do.”
“None of which you are currently capable of doing,” Jane said, to which Mary smiled.
“No, but I have you. I will simply… make suggestions.”
Oh dear. Jane knew what Mary’s suggestions meant.
“More like orders,” she murmured to Duncan as she brushed past him and into the kitchen. He followed her in.
“Jane,” he began, but she had no time to speak of things with him, as much as she would like to. She had a list as long as her arm, and she needed to finish it.
“Will you please check the pudding?” she asked, pointing to the pot in the corner, and he looked at her somewhat quizzically before walking over and lifting the lid.
“It smells good,” he said with a shrug. “Looks like a big bun but smells much spicier.” Jane placed her hands on her hips.
“I think that’s good. I cannot say I have ever prepared nor eaten Christmas pudding before. Billy’s mother made it. Now we have to place it in beef broth.”
Duncan looked at her with concern. “The pudding?”
“I am told that is the way of it,” Jane said with a shrug. “And the mince pies?”
“I have no idea what a mince pie is.”
Jane sighed. “You’re not much help.”
“Billy said his family was going to come assist with everything. You don’t need to do all your sister tells you.”
At that point Mary called from the drawing room, “Jane! We must ensure the table linens are out and the table set before Billy’s family arrives. They will be here any minute!”
Duncan eyed her with a look. “You are not the servant here, you know. Where is the maid?”
“At church.”
“You’re here for your sister’s health, Jane, not to host her husband’s entire family for dinner.”
Jane took a breath. “You don’t realize that is what I am doing — ensuring that Mary rests and doesn’t worry. If I don’t help, then she might be in here herself and would give birth right here on this kitchen floor.”
“Let’s both hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Jane nodded.
“Very well,” he said with a sigh. “What do you need me to do?”
“Do you know how to cook the rum punch?”
“No.”
“How about slice the goose?”
“No.”
“How about light the candles of the Christmas tree?”
“That I can do.”
She passed him the matches and he was soon blessedly out of the kitchen. She couldn’t concentrate with him here, and he took up far too much space in the small room.
As she risked spilling the entirety of the pea soup on her skirt, she knew she should have changed before cooking the rest of the supper, but she had forgotten as she was trying to take advantage of the short bit of time available to her.
“Jane?”
Now she did spill a ladle-full, and she looked down forlornly at the stain on her bosom before seeing who the speaker might be.
“Nick,” she said with a small smile, although she was now concerned that Billy’s family was already here. “How was the rest of the service?”
“Fine,” he said, nodding at her from where he slouched against the door with his hands in his pockets. “You disappeared.”
“Mary wasn’t well,” Jane explained, and he nodded.
“So I am told. She seems in better spirits now, however.”
“Yes,” Jane said with a short laugh, “she is her usual self at the moment.”
“Can I help with anything?”
Jane hesitated. “Is your mother here?”
“She is, but she is currently preoccupied with her grandchildren. Little Andrew already found his gift of a rocking horse while Amelia is searching everywhere for the doll she is sure is waiting for her.”
Jane smiled at the thought of it.
“I do hope Abigail will be here soon, but in the meantime, I suppose there are a few tasks I could use some help with.”
“Just say the word.”
Jane soon had Nick hard at work, slicing the goose and preparing it for the table’s centerpiece, as well as setting the rum punch to boil. He teased her for her slowness as she tried to cut the parsnips, and she laughed when they ran into one another for the second time in the middle of the small kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a chuckle. “But thank you for your help, Nick. I do really appreciate it. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Nick smiled broadly, but before he could say anything, they both looked to the doorway when another presence drew their attention.
“Duncan!” Jane said in surprise, shivering at the hardness of his countenance as he stared at them within. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Apparently not,” he said, to which Jane frowned. “Abigail is back,” he said. “Perhaps we should leave things to her now.”
“She cannot do all of this alone!” Jane said, surprised that he would suggest such a thing.
“Then perhaps the rest of the family could help as well.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Nick said easily, earning him one of Duncan’s hard stares.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 79