Which was ludicrous.
He had never heard the prayer before, and when he looked up at the others with their bowed heads, he saw that Jane also didn’t seem to be familiar with it, for she kept her lips pressed together, her eyes closed as well.
Finished, Billy sat back, tucked a napkin into his collar, picked up his fork and knife, and began to eat. Duncan saw Jane and Mary exchange a look, however, as though there was no such way they could similarly begin their dinner before they addressed all that was weighing between them.
Tense silence filled the room, and when Duncan finally cleared his throat, he saw Jane jump at the noise.
“So, Duncan,” Mary began before he could say anything, and he sighed inwardly. Mary had always been one of the most forthright women — nay, make that people — he had ever met. Although now, a tired air masked her countenance. “Jane tells me that you came to London in order to return me home.”
Duncan looked over at Jane, who didn’t meet his eyes, but instead looked down at her plate. He smiled somewhat bitterly.
“I did,” he said, placing his fork down on the table, suddenly lacking an appetite. “But from what Jane tells me, my efforts are in vain.”
“Yes, of course,” she said with a nod. “But even if I was not married and expecting, do tell me, Duncan, why would you presume that I would ever want to go home with you? I came all the way to London for a reason. For that matter, why would you want a woman who does not want you?”
Duncan bristled at her words, for they reduced him to nothing more than a lovesick young pup, which he most certainly was not.
“I did not come to retrieve you for myself,” he said, straightening his spine. “I came at your father’s behest.”
“My father’s?” she repeated, raising her eyebrows.
“Aye.” He nodded. “You have no brothers, and I didn’t think your father should be making the journey all the way to London. I promised to see this through for him.”
Mary scoffed. “The Scottish pride. Do not all of you consider that part of the reason I welcomed the opportunity to live in London — with Billy—” Billy nodded his head and waved his hand at her, “was because I desired to get away from the life I was living? You arrogant Highlanders are always on about your honor, when your honor is nothing more than foolish arrogance.”
“Mary,” Jane cut in softly, “I don’t know that you need to—”
“I do,” Mary said before turning back to Duncan. “I should have broken things off with you before running away, but Duncan, there was nothing to break off. You and I had nothing more than an arrangement which our fathers agreed to years ago. The two of us hardly knew one another, and it would never have worked between us. It is better that I left.”
“Perhaps,” Duncan agreed, and Mary opened her mouth as though to argue but then closed it again.
“Pardon me?”
“I said, perhaps you are right.”
And she was. Mary was far too brash and a touch conceited. Oh, she had her good qualities as well — clearly, for Jane appeared to love her more than anyone — but she and Duncan would have spent their lives at one another’s throats. She had a point — he was mostly insulted that she had chosen another over him.
“Oh,” Mary said, sitting back, exchanging glances with her husband, who smiled wryly. “I see. Will you be returning to Scotland soon, then?” she asked, and now it was Jane’s turn to look at him imploringly, as though she hoped that his mind had changed since arriving at Mary and Billy’s house.
“No,” he said, his lips curling at Mary’s look of surprise. Even Billy looked up from his food. “I am staying until Jane is ready to return.”
“But—” Mary began, looking from Jane to Duncan and back to Jane. “Jane, you said you would stay until the baby comes, and that is at least another month or two!”
“I will, Mary, not to worry,” Jane said, reaching out to place a hand overtop of Mary’s.
“But then why did Duncan say—”
“I suppose I will be staying until the bairn comes as well,” he said with a great exhale as Mary’s eyes widened ever further.
“Where shall you stay?” she asked, looking around as though she would be able to find a place for him in this very dining room.
“Well—”
“I’m assuming McDougall here is hoping to stay with us,” Billy said, eyeing Duncan from across the table. “Is that not right?”
A pit of unease began to form in Duncan’s stomach. He wasn’t enjoying any aspect of this entire situation, least of all the thought of staying with his former betrothed and her husband. And then there was Jane. He glanced over at her, and she met his gaze with equal, steady resolve in her blue eyes.
“Aye,” Duncan grunted, although he kept his eyes on Jane instead of his host. “If ye have a spare bed, I would most appreciate it.”
He only hoped Jane would come to her senses sooner rather than later.
* * *
Jane had never spent a more uncomfortable dinner in her life. It didn’t help to realize that there would be many more of these in her near future.
“So, Billy — can I call you Billy?” Duncan asked, apparently much more at ease now that the formalities of his stay had been take care of. “You are a vicar, then?”
“At St. Anthony’s. I’m sure you saw it on your arrival,” Billy said. “You could call me Father Bill.”
“I could,” Duncan said, but his forced grin told Jane that he was going to do as he pleased.
“Since you will be here over the Christmas season,” Billy said, his own smile now causing Jane to suspect he was going to best Duncan, which would certainly not go over well, “I could use a hand around here.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, as you Scots would say,” Billy said, the sides of his moustaches quirking up. “There is much to be done. We must find the Yule log, hunt for the Christmas tree, string up the decorations, and cook a feast for my family.”
“Your family comes?” Duncan said, and Jane was about to laugh until he took on an ill look.
“Oh, yes,” Billy said. “There’s a whole lot of them. My mother of course, and then my brothers and sisters and their spouses and children, my sister and her son, not to mention aunts, uncles, cousins… no one enjoys Christmas as much as the Miller family.”
“Wonderful,” Duncan said wryly, catching Jane’s eye, and she heard him mutter something about an “abundance of English.” Mary obviously heard it as well, for she glared at him, while Jane coughed in order to cover her laugh.
Duncan grinned at her, and she shook her head to discourage such behaviour, although she had to admit that Billy, while seemingly perfect for Mary, was rather difficult to take after a time. He had this self-righteousness that was, Jane could admit, a bit hypocritical when he had run off with a woman who had been pledged to another man. Even if that woman had no intention of wedding her first betrothed.
Jane could vividly recall every moment of the night Mary had come to say goodbye. She had implored Jane not to say anything until morning, to give her time to put a great distance behind her home. Jane had reluctantly agreed, never telling her father that she had prior knowledge of Mary’s departure.
She had never seen her father more upset. He was angry, true, but Jane’s heart had tugged at her when her father had looked up and asked, “What are we going to tell the McDougalls?”
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 should be naturally and that she had 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. Appetite was good.
She was no physician — that was her father’s calling — but between his experience as well 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 woman 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.
Which was ridiculous.
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 exchanged, 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.
Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel Page 4