Only, this time, if he had her in a bed, he knew they would do far more than sleep.
What the devil had this woman done to him?
And, as a better question, just how was he going to respond?
Chapter 8
There were many things Jane should be doing right now.
She should be with her sister, ensuring that she was feeling well and was taken care of.
She should be inside, performing hosting duties as Mary was most certainly not feeling up to it.
She should be preparing refreshments for the many people who were currently congregating within.
She should not be kissing Duncan McDougall. Certainly not here in the middle of the street, where anyone could look out any one of the many front-facing windows and catch the two of them in the midst of it.
But at the moment, she wasn’t sure how she could possibly tear herself away.
Her fingers bit into his muscular biceps, feeling the strength coursing through them. He could lift her and carry her off likely with hardly any effort at all. He was the very epitome of power, which should scare her.
For the problem was, as much as Jane was well aware that the last man she should ever develop feelings for was the one who had once been betrothed to her sister, she couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach whenever he was near, nor the way she seemed tuned to his very presence whenever he entered a room, nor the thrill that tingled down her spine when he whispered in her ear.
And now as he kissed her… his lips were hard, firm, and unrelenting as they pressed on hers. Jane had been kissed before, but never like this. Duncan’s stubborn obstinance may have proven to cause her more than her share of annoyance over the past couple of days, but she could no longer complain about the fact that when this man set out to do something, he did it with purpose.
He lifted his hands to cup her face, his fingertips threading into her hair, and despite the chill in the air around them, his hands were warm, heat coursing through them and right into her very being.
He placed gentle pressure on the side of her head, tilting it to the side, which Jane realized provided better access. She was startled when his tongue touched the seam of her lips, and when she opened to him, it swept into her mouth, and she emitted an involuntary gasp at the shock.
A noise that was akin to a growl rose from the back of his throat, and Jane sank into his arms, seemingly losing all her breath as she was surrounded by his very essence. His scent filled her, his touch thrilled her, and his presence overwhelmed all rational thought.
As Jane lifted her hands around his neck and pressed herself in close to him, all she could think was more. More of this. More of him. More than she had any right to want.
Jane nearly forgot where they were, what they were doing, and who might see them, until she felt a tap on her leg.
She pushed back and away from Duncan so quickly she almost fell, but he reached out a hand and caught her.
“Miss Jane?”
It was one of Billy’s nieces, who was currently looking back and forth between Duncan and Jane with a curious expression on her eight-year-old face.
“Amelia!” Jane exclaimed, her cheeks now flaming despite the cold. “What are you doing out here, sweetheart?”
“Auntie Mary was looking for you,” she said, her nose already turning red. “I saw you out the window, so I came to find you.”
“Thank you, dear,” Jane said, pressing her fingers to her lips as though that would erase the child’s memory of what she had just witnessed. “We are coming in in just a moment. Mr. McDougall and I have to… talk about something.”
Amelia nodded and ran back toward the house, although she stopped for one final look behind her before pushing the door open.
Jane paused for a moment, willing the courage to be able to look up at Duncan. When she finally did, she almost wished she hadn’t, for his lips were trembling as though they just might break into a smile.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “that was—”
“Rather inopportune timing,” she finished for him, and his thick eyebrows winged up in surprise.
“I thought you would have a rather different opinion,” he said gruffly. “I was ready for the speech about how this was all a mistake.”
“It if was a mistake,” she said slowly, cautiously, “then I would have ensured it had never occurred in the first place.”
With that, she turned and re-entered the house. For if she stayed, she didn’t want to think about just what else this man’s presence might cause her to do.
* * *
Duncan would never have thought it possible to avoid a person while living together in a house as small as that which Billy Miller owned.
But it seemed that Jane was completely capable of doing so. For the two days following their kiss in the street outside the window, Duncan had hardly seen her. He had followed her back inside the house, as they were basically ignored by all within, he had been of the impression that they had gone unnoticed — with the exception of little Amelia, of course.
It seemed that Billy’s brother Nick had spent a great deal of time watching Jane, and had not been shy about conversing with her whenever he found the opportunity.
Duncan McDougall was many things, however, and one of them was belief in his attractiveness to women. He knew that when Jane looked at him, there was a spark in her eye and a bashfulness in her posture that was completely absent when in the presence of any other man. He had felt the touch of her lips on his and the innocence of her tongue, and had recognized the response of her own desire.
Which was why he had been particularly intrigued by what might next occur between them.
But so far, nothing.
To be fair, Jane had been spending a great deal of time with her sister. Mary was having a particularly bad bout of illness, Billy had told Duncan that evening as they sat together after dinner. The two of them would certainly never become fast friends — they were far too different from one another, notwithstanding that Billy had married Duncan’s fiancée — but nevertheless, they had developed a certain ease around one another, as well as an understanding that the two of them were, in essence, on the outside of the close bond that existed between the sisters.
“You know,” Billy began tonight as he passed Duncan a drink. Duncan had to concede that the Englishman did have a fine selection of alcohol. “You should think about what you will give Jane for Christmas.”
“Pardon me?” Duncan said, choking at the thought as he took his first sip while Billy spoke.
“A gift,” Billy repeated. “We often give them to our loved one at Christmas. I thought perhaps Jane would like something.”
“Why ever would she want something from me?” Duncan asked, raising his hands in the air, palms up, and Billy looked at him as though he were daft.
“If you do not think she would expect something from you, then so be it,” Billy said with a shrug, “but she might like it.”
“She and I…” Duncan began to deny it to Billy, but found that he couldn’t actually form the words. For he rather liked the thought that the two of them were considered to be together.
“You get on well, do you not?” Billy said, leaning forward in his chair expectantly.
“We hardly know one another,” Duncan finished, although an idea began forming in his mind, one that he didn’t care to share with Billy.
“But—”
His words were cut off when a knock sounded on the door. Billy and Duncan exchanged a look before Billy rose to answer it.
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 Ja
ne 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? It was ridiculous. 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.
&nb
sp; “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.”
Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel Page 6