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 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.
Jane stepped past Nick, placing a hand on Duncan’s arm, not pleased with his surliness. She was unsure where it had even come from, but she certainly didn’t welcome it.
“What’s gotten into you?” she murmured, searching his eyes, but he shrugged and looked away.
“Nothing at all,” he said. “I’ll be outside if you need me. I don’t think I’m good for much in here.”
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Jane to stare after him in dismay. Where was the Duncan who had treated her so tenderly and whispered endearments in her ear just last night? He was back to being the bitter man who had arrived in London on a mission of misplaced motivations, and she didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Chapter 13
Duncan stared moodily down the quiet street, watching skiffs of snow swirl in the wind. He knew he had just made an ass of himself, and now he was unsure o
f how to make it right. He had always thought that he enjoyed his quiet existence with little responsibility for others. When he had first met the Miller family he had wanted nothing more than to put great distance between himself and them. But then he had the opportunity to see what it meant to be close to a family that cared so deeply for one another, from the littlest Amelia to Billy’s mother. He wondered if he would ever grow such a family himself.
And then when he had seen Jane in the kitchen with Nick Miller, the two of them working together so harmoniously as Nick performed all of the skills that Duncan had lacked, his jealousy had escaped its cage and he hadn’t been able to hold back his ire.
While he was aware that Jane was physically attracted to him — how could he not be, after their night together — Nick was the type of man she would be better off with. Even if he was English.
“Are you going to stand out here all night and brood in the cold?”
He turned around swiftly, not pleased with his lack of instincts, to find Mary standing behind him.
“What are you doing out here?” he demanded. “You are supposed to be inside resting.”
“Well, I suppose I can become overwhelmed as much as you can be,” she said with a wry laugh. “Besides that, I thought some fresh air would help.”
“You’re still not feeling well?” he asked, to which he shook her head.
“Not entirely,” she said, setting her jaw. “I’m sure it will pass.”
Duncan knew that Jane wasn’t so sure, but it certainly wasn’t his place to say anything if Jane had chosen not to.
“We could tell Billy’s family to go home,” Duncan suggested, but Mary shook her head, her eyes wide. “We couldn’t. This holiday means so much to them. I know we don’t quite understand, coming from the Highlands as we do, but Christmas… it’s special, if you let it in, Duncan.”
Duncan snorted. “You’re becoming English, Mary.”
“No,” she said with a soft smile. “I have just become a wife is all.”
He turned, not wanting to show the emotion that he might not be able to properly hide. He was actually beginning to understand what she meant by that. He was sure he would do or say anything to make Jane happy — even if it meant staying here in London and celebrating this holiday with her and the largest, loudest family he had ever met.
Mary must have guessed what he was thinking anyway.
“Do you love her?” she asked, not needing to specify just who she was talking about. Duncan remained silent. Jane deserved to know before her sister.
Mary, however, didn’t seem to need to hear the words.
“I thought you might. The two of you would suit one another, you know. She and I have gotten on well our entire lives, and you and I are more alike then I’m sure either of us wants to admit.”
At that, Duncan turned. “Yes, but does being with people like you and me mean that Jane will always be overshadowed?”
Mary bit her lip. “I suppose I deserve such a reprimand. I have taken advantage of Jane now and again, I will admit that, but we have both fallen into our roles, just as you and Jane will. And, if you already recognize that it could happen, then I know you will make sure it doesn’t.”
Duncan looked down then, placing his hands on his hips.
“We’ll see,” he said, noncommittedly, thinking of their argument. Was he too jealous, too fiery for her? Was his temper too great? He had no wish to stamp out her spirit, and he wondered if she would be better off with a steady partner, a man with a similar temperament to her own — a man like Nick.
“Duncan, I—” Mary began, but before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly doubled over, grasping onto the railing for support. Duncan rushed over toward her, although he wasn’t entirely sure of what he could even do to help.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She just shook her head as a groan wrenched out of her lips.
“I’ll get Jane,” he said, stepping back toward the house, eager to find someone who would know what to do, although he also didn’t want to leave Mary here alone.
“It’ll pass in a moment,” she said, holding out an arm, nearly gasping for air, and he stood, frozen on the doorstep, hating the feeling of complete and utter helplessness that overtook him.
He furrowed his brow as he looked down at her.
“Do you think you are—”
“No,” she said vehemently, “most decidedly not.”
“All right,” he said with a shrug, relieved when she stood up and seemed to be recovered.
“We should go in,” she said. “It’s time for dinner.”
“Oh yes,” he said, taking a breath as he prepared himself to re-enter. “Here we go.”
* * *
Duncan wished Jane would sit down.
He also wished Nick would sit down — although not next to her. The two of them worked in tandem, serving one course after another while Abigail remained in the kitchen. They were the perfect host and hostess, Duncan thought with a trace of bitterness.
He had never been a jealous man. He had no reason to be. He was the future chieftain of his clan, for whatever meaning that still held. Would it have been nice to have the warm love of his parents growing up? Aye. But as it was, he had become a man of strength, who could take on the world alone, which meant something.
While Duncan knew that he wasn’t the most refined man, he had never lacked appreciation from any female companions. He had never, however, had the intense need for the sole attention from one particular woman — until now.
He knew he was being an idiot. Jane had clearly wanted to be with him, and not Nick. And yet, his fear was that she would soon realize how much better off she would be with someone else.
Duncan leaned back in his seat at the far end of the table. Little Amelia sat next to him on one side, with Billy and Nick’s mother on the other. She, however, was far more interested in speaking to her son-in-law on the other side of her. Amelia was staring at Duncan with open-mouthed curiosity.
“Why are you so large?” she asked, just as Jane carried in the split pea soup and set it in the middle of the table.
“I’m a Highlander,” he said, crooking an eyebrow, even though he was well aware that not many Highlanders — few as a matter of fact — possessed his same size.
Amelia frowned. “What does that mean?”
“That I live in the north of Scotland,” he said, then continued once he noted her confusion, “which is north of England.”
“I see,” she said, then was silent for a moment as she looked down at her plate. Duncan took a breath, wondering if he was going to have a momentary reprieve from all of her questions.
“Are you going to marry Auntie Jane?”
Duncan froze with his drink halfway to his lips. While Amelia’s little voice had been difficult to hear over all of the conversations that filled the small room, it was as though with that one question, her little voice had overcome all others, for the entire family turned to look at them.
“I, ah—” he looked up to find Jane standing there, a tray in her hands. Nick stood beside her, one of the only ones in the room to move as he looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Well, if she—”
“My mommy and daddy say that people who kiss one another are married. I saw them kiss one time, and I saw you and Auntie Jane kissing outside, but my mommy said Jane wasn’t married yet.”
“Amelia, that’s enough!” Audrey — or maybe it was Harriet — shushed her.
Duncan finished his drink’s journey to his lips, gulping it down rapidly, welcoming the burn down his throat.
“Jane—” he began, but Billy stood up from the head of the table, his face troubled as it seemed Amelia’s soft voice had carried.
“I say, I had an inkling that the two of you might have feelings for one another, but I am dismayed to find that this has happened under my roof. You were my responsibility, Jane.”
“I am no one’s responsibly,” Jan
e began, quietly shaking her head, grateful that Billy didn’t know the true extent of relations between her and Duncan. “I only—”
“I hardly think you are one to speak,” Duncan said gruffly, eyeing Billy. “Not to worry. I’ll make it right when we return to the Highlands.”
Billy removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “As if your father didn’t already hate me enough,” he said to Mary, who frowned at the words. Duncan noted that her plate was full and her face pale.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, and then ran from the table, leaving the family looking after her.
Billy’s mother sat up straighter, ready to take control of the situation. “As the children have already opened their gifts, perhaps we should open up our Christmas crackers as we eat so that Billy and Mary — and their houseguests — can get to bed early.”
Amelia clapped her hands in glee, and soon everyone around the table was removing a long cylinder cloth from their pockets. Some were wrapped with ribbon, others tied with a bow.
“We have each brought one for someone else here,” Billy’s mother said. “You all know who you were to bring one for.”
She looked over at Duncan. “My apologies, sir, but we did not know you would be present.”
Duncan waved away her concern as though it was no issue, which it wasn’t. He had no idea what a Christmas cracker even was, let alone harbored any desire to participate.
He didn’t miss, however, Nick passing one over to Jane, and she to him, although she looked somewhat uneasy about it. Mrs. Miller seemed pleased, and Duncan realized that this was a matchup she was hoping for. Perhaps she had even planned this.
He sighed. When everything in the world was telling him that he and Jane were not to be, should he follow it or fight it?
* * *
Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel Page 9