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

by Anna Campbell

  “It’s Mary,” Jane said hurriedly, not even looking at him. “She’s gone into labor. Billy’s family left not long ago to return home, and Billy escorted his mother while Nick was taking his sister. With the weather as it is, they should hopefully return within the hour, but Mary’s contractions are coming rather quickly.”

  Jane’s words were calm, but Duncan could hear the concern in her voice.

  “Duncan, I don’t… I don’t know if I can do this – alone, without a midwife or a physician. I—”

  “Jane.” He caught her hands in his. “You will be just fine. You are the best person your sister could have with her right now. What do you want me to do?” he asked, and she gripped his hands, squeezing them tight.

  “I’ve sent Abigail for the physician, although this being Christmas and all, I have no idea if he will come, nor how quickly,” she said. “Mary is upstairs, and I must get back to her as soon as possible. Will you boil water and find towels in the closet?”

  Duncan nodded, watching as Jane hurried up the stairs, throwing an apron over her dress as she did so. He sighed as his heart hammered in his chest. He had never had anything to do with the birth of a baby, unless one counted the animals in Galbury’s stables and sties. He supposed that could be of some help, although he had faith that Jane had all well in hand.

  He did as Jane bid, hoping that he was preparing everything as she needed it. He hurried up the stairs, pausing in front of the door at Mary’s long moans within. He swallowed hard, deciding right then that no matter what anyone said, women were much stronger creatures than men would ever be.

  “Jane?” he called, wishing he could leave everything at the door, but the water he had boiled over the stove was likely too heavy. “Should I come in?”

  “Yes, please,” she said, before resuming the low murmuring to her sister as he stepped through the door. Fortunately, Mary was currently well covered, and Duncan followed Jane’s pointed finger to set down the items beside her.

  Jane sent him out once more, to the nursery down the hall to find more blankets. He nodded, relieved for another task, but when he got to the nursery, a flood of emotion punched him in the gut, and he had to pause for a moment to look around. A cradle sat in the corner, with a blanket hanging over the edge. A change table and a little rocker were on the opposite side of the room, while a few little dolls and toys had been placed in a basket near the corner. Mary had already apparently collected some clothes for the child, which were laid out in a basket.

  He took a long inhale as he attempted to catch hold of his breath. It wasn’t that he was suddenly wishing he was the man who was fathering Mary’s baby. Instead, it was the thought of a room like this at Galbury, with Jane as the woman who would be sitting in the chair rocking a baby in her arms. He could picture her now, looking up at him lovingly, with that same expression that Mary and Billy wore on their faces when they looked at one another.

  He would have assumed that such a thought would only frighten him, but instead, for the first time in his life, it warmed him right through. He met it with anticipation, and he knew now what he must do.

  Running from London — and from Jane — would accomplish nothing. Instead, he had to stay, and fight for her love, the love he didn’t think he could live without any longer. He could only pray that she felt the same.

  He lifted the blankets and raced back down the hall, finding that Mary’s moaning was louder than ever until it became a scream. Perhaps he didn’t want Jane to ever go through this, he reconsidered. He would be content for the two of them to live out their days with only each other for company and love. It would be more than enough for a man like him, who had never known the companionship of a sibling.

  “Jane?” he called as he raced through the doorway, although he was tempted to turn around and run back the other way at the sight in front of him. Jane still had a blanket over Mary’s knees, but her hands were beneath it, as she was slowly crooning to her sister, whose hair was wet with perspiration as her hands fisted the sheets on either side of her.

  “Jane!” Mary yelled out now, “Get this baby out of me, and get it out right now!”

  As Duncan moved to the side of the room, Jane lifted the blanket to better see, and in a gentle voice that was, at the same time, loud enough for Mary to hear her, she encouraged, “That’s it, Mary, you’ve got this. Ready? One, two, three, push!”

  Mary complied with a scream and Duncan could only stand there with a hand over his mouth and wide eyes. He should not be here, he suddenly realized. Not at all. He began to back out of the room slowly but just as he did, something slammed into his back and propelled him forward once more.

  “Mary!”

  Thank God. Billy was here. He rushed over to Mary’s side, taking her hand as suddenly Jane gave out a cry of exaltation, and Duncan let out a breath of relief as he realized the baby must have been delivered.

  “Duncan?” Jane called out to him, “Will you please pass me more towels?”

  He did as she bid, and soon Jane had passed the baby over to Billy.

  “A boy,” she said with a smile, and Billy nodded, seemingly unable to say anything, likely due to the tears that were coursing down his cheeks.

  Suddenly Mary gave another shout of pain, and Jane looked to her in alarm that scared Duncan in turn.

  “Mary?”

  “It hurts again, Jane,” she moaned. “Oh, so much.”

  Mary let out a scream, and when Jane looked at Duncan helplessly, he realized that this was likely beyond her scope of knowledge. They needed the physician, and they needed him now.

  “It’s all right, Mary,” Jane said, although this time she was far from convincing. She reached up and began touching Mary’s stomach, when suddenly she gave out a soft cry of exclaim.

  “Oh, Mary!” she said, turning to Duncan with a wide grin on her face. “You’re experiencing more contractions — there’s another baby coming!”

  Mary and Billy just stared at her in astonishment for a moment before Jane cried out “Push!” once more, and soon Mary was doing just that. Duncan forced himself into action, preparing more towels and blankets, and soon enough there was another baby — and this time, he found the baby — a girl — within his arms. He stiffly cradled the tiny little child, terrified that he was going to drop her, as Jane helped Mary deliver the afterbirth and began to clean away the soiled linen.

  Duncan stared down at the crying little ball, his heart near to bursting with affection for this baby that no one had even known existed until seconds ago, as well as pride for Mary and for Jane, and a love for Jane beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

  He looked up, meeting Mary and Billy’s own expressions of love before he crossed the room and laid the infant in Mary’s arms.

  “Here,” he said gruffly, nearly fumbling the exchange, but she just laughed lightly as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Thank you, Duncan,” she said, before looking across the room at Jane, who was walking toward her with a wet cloth to wash her brow. “And thank you, Jane. For everything. I could never, ever, have done this without you.”

  The sisters touched their foreheads to one another’s as they cried a few tears of joy, and Jane had the opportunity to hold the two little babies.

  Finally, she stepped back, and nodded her head out of the room. Duncan followed her out as she shut the door gently behind her.

  “We’ll give the new family a moment together,” she said as they descended the stairs, before she collapsed into an overstuffed sofa before the fire, which was now the only light in the drawing room besides the candles on the tree, which were still lit, for the most part, although wax was beginning to drip from them and onto the evergreen branches. She looked up at Duncan with some hesitancy.

  “Thank you, Duncan,” she said. “I will never forget what you did today.” She paused, her eyes wide and soulful. “But… where were you going?”

  He sighed. He supposed there was nothing to do but tell the truth.


  “Home.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming to sink deep into the cushions. “Home — to the Highlands?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes,” he said, swallowing hard at the dismay that swam in her eyes. He sat down next to her, lifting her now cold hands into his lap. “I must apologize, Jane. I made assumptions, and I was a fool.”

  She lifted her brilliant blue eyes to his. “Assumptions such as?”

  He looked away from her for a moment, toward some of the paper ornaments that covered the tree. He smiled at the one Amelia had made for him. Already forgetting his reservations of just an hour ago, he wondered if he would ever have a daughter of his own.

  “I’ve never been much of a… reasonable man. I have more faults than I could even name. You are the best woman — the best person — I have ever met, and I have not treated you as well as I should have. Tonight, when I saw, once again, how well you and Nick got along, how you enjoyed one another and worked as a pair, how he knew what you needed… I thought it might be best if I give you space to decide what you truly wanted — me, or if you would prefer an Englishman, as your sister did.”

  “Oh, Duncan,” she said, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him. “I never thought about how Mary—”

  He held up a hand.

  “I realized something tonight, however,” he said, gritting his teeth together as he looked at her, praying that he would find the right words to convey all that he felt deep within him. “I love you, Jane, and despite my faults, I promise that I will spend the rest of my life doing all I can to ensure that you know just how deeply you are loved. I will provide you with whatever you need, and be there any time you call. I am not perfect, but I will be the perfect man for you.”

  He knelt in front of her now, bringing her hands to his lips, noting the tears swimming in her eyes, and his chest ached as he looked up at her imploringly. “Will you have me, Jane? Will you be my wife, and spend the rest of our days together, whatever that might mean?”

  She leaned down, cupping his face within her hands, which had warmed from his own overtop of them.

  “If you thought I would say differently, Duncan, then you are a fool,” she said, softening her words with a smile, “for I love you more than I ever could another and I will marry you and live with you wherever we choose to make home.” She bit her lip. “Although I dearly wish that was back in the Highlands. London is lovely, but it certainly isn’t home.”

  He let out a bellow of glee before he reached up and lifted her into his arms, swinging her around in a circle as his heart seemed to burst in an explosion of happiness unlike anything he had ever known. This perfect, wonderful, beautiful woman loved him.

  Now he had to make good on all his promises, and be the man worthy of her.

  He set her down before crossing the room and finding a small package under the Christmas tree, wrapped in brown paper.

  “Here,” he said, placing it in her hands. It read a simple “Jane,” printed on the paper. “You were rather busy earlier, so I never had the chance to give this to you.”

  She looked up at him with a small smile of surprise before undoing the twine and ripping off the paper.

  “Oh, Duncan,” she said when the wood beneath was revealed, “this is perfect.”

  She smoothed her hands over the Celtic love knot he had worked on every evening. He had never been one to sit still for overly long periods of time but in this, he had been able to concentrate, for he had been thinking of her. When he finally realized how much he loved her, he had added the middle heart that completed it.

  “It’s a small symbol of what I feel for you,” he said with the smallest of smiles. “I love you, Jane.”

  “And I love you,” she said.

  And as one of the babies upstairs began to cry, they sealed their vow with a kiss.

  Epilogue

  Eleven months later

  Jane sat in the warm glow of the fire, enjoying the heat on her face. Galbury’s great hall could become somewhat chilly when the wind fiercely blew through December, but she and Duncan had made this home in more ways than they could have imagined since his father had passed a few months prior.

  She smiled up at the wooden carving they had hung over the fireplace as she waited for Duncan to return home. She had no idea where he had gone off to, but she was trembling with anticipation for what she had to share.

  The huge oak doors swung open, and the lightest wisp of snow blew in as Duncan’s grunts emanated through the huge room.

  “Duncan?” she called, rising from the chair to greet him. “What in the—”

  “I found one worthy of Galbury — and of you,” he said, and Jane could only stare with wide eyes as she searched for him within the huge branches of the tree. “Here it is, Jane.”

  “You found a Christmas tree,” she said in astonishment.

  “I did,” he said with a nod as he placed it upright, appearing beside it, his face red with cold but his eyes bright and his smile wide. “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, twirling around it. “But Duncan, we don’t really celebrate Christmas here.”

  “We do now,” he said with a wink, and he leaned the tree up against the wall before disappearing into the kitchens beyond, returning with a small tub. “See? I have everything prepared.”

  He busily set the tree up in the corner, and Jane watched with astonishment at the thoroughness with which he had planned this. “I would have helped you,” she said, but he shook his head.

  “This was a surprise,” he said. “I saw your father on the way. He was appropriately shocked.”

  “Did you?”

  Jane’s parents had been relieved when Duncan had returned with her following their Christmas in London last year, and, as it happened, they were quite pleased with the arrangement for Duncan to marry Jane instead of Mary.

  Jane wasn’t sure they would ever overcome the thought of Mary living in London, but they seemed to have finally accepted her choice in a husband.

  Duncan interrupted her thoughts when he produced what Jane immediately recognized as a Christmas paper ball. “For you.”

  “An ornament?” It was a heart with their initials, and Jane smiled at it lovingly before placing it on the tree. “Our first,” she said before turning to look at him, placing her hands on his chest.

  She had her own surprise for him. She returned to the couch and found what she was looking for before passing it over to him.

  “For you.”

  “A Christmas cracker?”

  “You didn’t get one last year,” she said with a small smile. “I hope this makes up for it.”

  He took it from her, opening it up to find a list of names on the piece of paper within.

  “Callum, Peggy, Finlay… what is this?” he asked, looking up at her with confusion.

  “A list of names I like,” she said, unable to help the smile that began to spread over her face. “For our baby.”

  “For our…” His eyes grew wide as the paper fluttered out of his fingers and onto the floor. “B-baby?”

  She nodded with a smile. “Yes,” she said, her words coming out in a whisper that was half sob and half laugh.

  “Oh, Jane,” he said reverently, reaching out and drawing her close, “perhaps there is something magical about Christmas after all.”

  “There most assuredly is,” she said. “Let’s never forget Christmas ever again.”

  “How could I?” he responded. “It’s given me everything I never thought possible yet is more precious than anything else. Family.” He paused, giving himself a moment to keep from choking up. “You’re the best present I ever could have asked for, Jane. This year, and every year to come.”

  Ellie has always loved reading, writing, and history. For many years she has written short stories, non-fiction, and has worked on her true love and passion -- romance novels.

  Ellie and her husband love nothing more than spending time at home wit
h their two sons and Husky cross. Ellie can typically be found at the lake in the summer, pushing the stroller all year round, and, of course, with her computer in her lap or a book in hand.

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  The Victorian Highlanders Series

  Read the stories of Duncan and Jane’s children in The Victorian Highlanders series:

  Callum’s Vow

  Finlay’s Duty

  Adam’s Call

  Roderick’s Purpose

  Peggy’s Love

  Bedeviled : A Russian Pursuit

  by Elsa Holland

  Prologue

  London

  December, 1900

  Excerpt from Snowdon’s social column

  in the London Times

  Was it just five and a half months ago the Petroski brothers came to London? Had regaled the salons, theatres and house parties with their charming wit, their physique, and their devastating accents? The charade was on London as it seems the handsome Prince Vladimir, the toast of the town, was not the elder brother at all but the younger. It is whispered, he led a distraction, so that true love could blossom for the long-time betrothal of his brother, the true eldest Prince.

  Delightfully romantic but, who likes to have the wool pulled over their eyes so successfully? Certainly not all the fawners. Not the men of commerce who spoke in earnest about their business opportunities, who sought connections and introductions from the wrong man. And what of all those whispered liaisons, their trysts now relegated one step further down the royalty ladder than portrayed.