Christmas with His Wallflower Wife

by Janice Preston

  ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’

  As soon as Jane finished her breakfast, she tiptoed into Alex’s bedchamber. He was lying on his side, curled into a ball, the covers up around his ears. Jane sat gently on the bed and smoothed his hair from his forehead. He looked so angelic she wanted to just hold him in her arms and protect him always.

  She smiled as she imagined his horror if he knew what she was thinking. He would be utterly insulted. In his mind—and that of most men—they were the ones who did the protecting. She continued to stroke as her thoughts roamed. Perhaps a better word would be nurture. To nurture those they loved came naturally to a woman. Her thoughts drifted on to babies—how she longed to be a mother and to have babies to love and care for.

  Alex stirred, mumbling, a frown creasing his forehead. He cranked open one eyelid, then closed it again with a groan.

  ‘Head hurts...’

  ‘Has Drabble brought you anything for it?’

  ‘What...? Who...? Ugh...no. Nothing. Thirsty...’

  Jane brushed her lips across his brow. ‘There’s water here. Let me help you drink, then I’ll bring you something later to relieve your head.’

  She slipped her arm under his shoulders, helped him up, held the glass to his lips, then laid him gently back. His eyes slitted open.

  ‘You’re too good to me, Janey.’

  Jane huffed a laugh. ‘Yes. I know I am.’ She feathered a kiss to his brow. ‘Sleep now. I’ll bring up the remedy before I go to church.’

  Outside the bedchamber door she paused, anxiety that Alex might be lured back into the excesses of his youth churning her stomach. Although surely it was too soon to begin fretting over Lascelles’ influence, even if she couldn’t trust him—Alex had too much to lose now, with Foxbourne and his beloved horses.

  Logically, that made sense. But whenever had Alex and logic walked hand in hand?

  She dressed, and then headed downstairs to mix up a remedy to soothe his head, vowing to talk to him about Lascelles as soon as he recovered.

  After church, Jane mingled with the villagers.

  ‘Good morning, My Lady.’ Mrs Phillips stopped to chat, one of her daughters by her side. ‘No Lord Alexander this morning?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. He is unwell.’

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’

  ‘No. We think he ate something that disagreed with him.’ As the white lie slipped from her lips, she caught sight of Anthony Lascelles, his dark gaze on her. She hadn’t noticed him in the church but he clearly wasn’t suffering the after-effects of last night as Alex was. ‘If you will excuse me, Mrs Phillips, I need to speak to Mr Lascelles, but would you care to call at Foxbourne on Wednesday? I am eager to lend more practical help to your charity work for the poor.’

  They had discussed the vicar’s charity work before, but had arranged nothing definite, with Jane still settling into her new role. Now, though, she realised if she was to cope with Alex leading his own life some of the time, then she must seek some fulfilment from other sources. It could only help if she cultivated interests of her own.

  ‘Thank you, Lady Jane. I shall be there.’

  Jane crossed to where Lascelles was talking to one of the local farmers.

  ‘Good morning.’ She encompassed both of them in her smile of greeting.

  Lascelles bowed. ‘Good morning to you, Lady Jane. Or...might we dispense with the formalities, as we are family?’

  ‘Of course.’ She could hardly object—he’d already asked her to call him Anthony.

  The farmer mumbled a greeting. ‘I’ll see what I can do, sir,’ he then said to Lascelles. ‘You leave it with me. Good day to you both.’

  He nodded before ambling away, watched by Lascelles. ‘One of my tenants. I need a new estate manager, and he knows of a chap over Cucklow way in need of a new position.’

  ‘I hope he proves suitable.’

  Lascelles smiled. ‘As do I. I have no wish to spend too much of my time here...its very closeness to London proves far too great an enticement to a lonely bachelor such as myself.’ His words eased some of Jane’s concern. ‘Oh, not that local society is not welcoming, of course. I cast no aspersions. But it consists of families in the main, and I know from experience there is only so much we will have in common.’

  ‘Maybe it is time to seek a wife?’ The words came out before she could stop them. ‘Oh! I apologise. I did not mean to be impertinent.’

  Lascelles smiled. ‘There is no necessity to apologise, my dear. You may be right. Perhaps it is time I took my chance and experienced domestic bliss. After all, if Alexander can take the plunge... What were the circumstances of your betrothal, if you do not mind me asking? I understand Alexander visited the Abbey in the summer but, having been friends for several years, it does seem to have happened without much...now, how can I put it? Without much forethought. A hurried affair, I gathered.’

  Shock momentarily stole her breath. Her skin crawled at the thought of Alex discussing anything so intimate with anyone.

  ‘Alex told you about our wedding?’

  ‘No, no. Not in so many words but...reading between the lines, as it were...and me a student of human nature...’ He fell silent, his gaze wandering over the people gathered outside the church before turning his attention back to Jane. ‘How is dear Alexander this morning? I noted his absence. Is his head very sore? I did try to dissuade him from indulging quite so freely but...well, my dear. You know our Alex. He is not easily brought back to heel once he’s been allowed off the leash, is he?’

  ‘He has only the slightest of headaches.’ Anger clawed Jane at the insinuation she kept Alex tied to her. ‘He had urgent business, so he could not attend church.’

  ‘I see.’ A smile hovered on Lascelles’ lips. ‘I wonder...when you return home could you remind him Sir Henry will call tomorrow at noon to examine that bay mare he has for sale?’ Jane knew the mare he referred to. It was one she had helped to school. ‘I am sure it won’t have slipped Alex’s mind but...just in case, you understand.’

  His falsely sympathetic tone and the glimmer of laughter in his eyes set Jane’s teeth on edge.

  ‘I shall remind him, sir.’

  ‘Anthony,’ he prompted gently.

  Jane swallowed her irritation. ‘Anthony.’

  Their talk had reinforced her feeling there was something distrustful about Anthony Lascelles and she couldn’t wait to escape him.

  ‘I must be going. They’re waiting for me.’ She indicated the members of the Foxbourne staff who had also attended the church service and were now waiting in a huddle by the two vehicles that had conveyed them into Malton. ‘Good day to you, Anthony.’

  ‘I shall see you on Thursday, if our paths do not cross tomorrow, dear Jane.’ He raised his hat, and his hair shone silver as it caught the sunlight. ‘Farewell.’ He strolled away, swinging his cane.

  Jane watched him go, her feelings in turmoil. Was this instinctive distrust she felt for him unreasonable? It felt as though there was a subtle innuendo in almost everything he said...a hidden message beneath the actual meaning of his words. Or was her imagination playing tricks on her? One thing was for sure, she would be unable to avoid him. She must hope he would tire of country life very quickly, and return to London.

  And, in the meantime—should she risk Alex’s anger by again voicing her doubts about Lascelles? She walked over to the servants and they were soon on their way home, Jane’s head full of ways to warn her stubborn husband against Lascelles without inadvertently driving him closer to the man.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Don’t worry, Janey. I shan’t make a habit of it... I have no wish to repeat the way I feel today.’ Alex’s head still throbbed like the Devil, albeit less ferociously than earlier. ‘All I want is for today to be over, knowing I will feel better in the morning. I fear I cannot hold my liquor as I used to.’


  Alex had finally hauled himself from his bed and shaved and dressed. He’d found Jane in the drawing room stuffing strips of fabric into what looked like a purple velvet bag with legs.

  ‘I am relieved to hear that. I do not like to see you in such pain.’

  ‘What is that?’

  She held it up. ‘It’s a ragdoll rabbit for baby George. I’ve made ragdolls for the girls and then thought of making this for George. It’s soft so there are no hard edges to hurt him.’

  Alex’s stomach twisted. He still hadn’t told Jane they weren’t going to the Abbey for Christmas but he couldn’t face that conversation now. He would tell her soon, he vowed. ‘Very nice.’

  He sat beside Jane, and plucked the toy rabbit from her hands. He might appreciate her industriousness in making gifts for the family but, right at this moment, he wanted her undivided attention. He’d barely seen her all day, and he’d missed her.

  As he played with an errant lock of hair that had escaped its pin Jane said, ‘Anthony came to church this morning.’

  Alex grinned. ‘Is that a subtle way of asking why I’ve been fit for nothing for the entire day and yet he was unaffected?’

  Jane remained straight-faced as she denied it, but the mischievous glint in her eyes told him he’d guessed right.

  ‘I am out of practice, clearly, although Anthony took his responsibilities as host seriously and limited his intake of spirits. What did he say about last night?’

  ‘Nothing much.’

  Alex sensed she wanted to say more.

  ‘He asked about the circumstances that led to our marriage. He implied there was something dubious about it.’ She sent him a sidelong glance. ‘You didn’t let slip anything about...about...’ She hauled in a shaky breath. ‘About Pikeford, did you?’

  ‘Janey!’ Alex wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. ‘Do you really think me so crass? I told him nothing, but that didn’t stop him asking plenty of questions.’ He frowned as a thought occurred. ‘I suspect he was using questions about our betrothal and wedding to find out more about the family and the Abbey. That’s another thing Uncle Vernon told me about Anthony... He is obsessed not only with Father but also with the Abbey itself. No doubt because he feels it should belong to him! And I can’t deny I would likely feel the same in his position. Anyway, enough about him—unless you truly find him riveting as a topic of conversation, in which case...do I need to be jealous?’

  ‘You? Jealous? How absurd.’

  The words might mock but, if anything, Jane looked delighted at that idea, and Alex recalled her telling him she loved him. He shifted his shoulders, uncomfortable with the topic; uncomfortable with delving into feelings. That wasn’t what this marriage was about, was it? It was a marriage between good friends, borne out of necessity. He’d saved Jane from Pikeford and that witch of a stepmother, and she was already proving herself so invaluable he couldn’t quite imagine his life without her now. But jealousy, and love, did not come into it.

  ‘Absurd indeed,’ he said lightly, ignoring the stab of guilt as Jane’s teasing smile slipped.

  ‘About Anthony, though...’ She hesitated, her cheeks colouring.

  ‘Yes?’

  Her chest rose as she hauled in a breath. ‘I can’t help worrying about him, Alex... He bears your father an ages-old grudge and Aunt Cecily warned me he is clever and manipulative and to be cautious. I would be happier if we kept our distance from him as far as possible.’

  What was it with his family? He removed his arm from Jane’s shoulders, resentment bubbling through him. They never thought him capable of managing his own affairs. Could they never see him as a grown man? An adult? Would they always see him as a boy who needed guidance and protection? And now Aunt Cecily had infected his wife with the same doubts about his judgement.

  ‘I think I’m old enough to make my own mind up about Anthony, don’t you?’

  Jane shook her head, and held his gaze, frustration brimming in her brown eyes. ‘I am entitled to my opinion, Alexander. Or are you suggesting I should always bite my tongue?’

  He stared at her frowning face. ‘When have I ever prevented you from saying what you think?’

  But you are now, aren’t you? Simply by not listening to her, you are dismissing her opinion as worthless.

  ‘I apologise,’ he said quickly, before she could respond. ‘Of course you are entitled to your opinion, Janey. Go on. I am listening.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She smiled, but it was hesitant and he hated that she felt inhibited. But he didn’t hate it enough to allow her to dictate who he might socialise with.

  ‘I am worried, Alex.’ She covered his hand with hers. ‘There is something about Anthony that makes me uneasy.’

  ‘Why? What has he said?’

  ‘It is not what he says but the way he says it...as though everything he says has a hidden meaning.’

  It was his turn to frown. ‘So you will condemn the man because your overactive imagination has conjured up underlying implications to his every word? That does not sound like you, Jane. You always see the best in people. Let’s face it, you must do, to still be friends with me after all these years.’ It was true. She was the kindest, most forgiving person he knew. ‘Do you know what I think?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘No. What do you think?’

  ‘I think Pikeford’s attack has made you ready to suspect monsters where there are none. You said yourself Anthony has said nothing to cause offence, so why do you insist on taking it? You are being overly sensitive.’

  ‘That is unfair, Alex.’ She snatched her hand away, as though his skin was red-hot. ‘Don’t turn this into an attack on me. I am your wife. I’m trying to help you.’

  Of course she was trying to help. It was what she did...helped to heal the sick and wounded. Rescued starving kittens. He gritted his teeth. Was that how she viewed him? As a man who needed rescuing? He leapt to his feet and paced away, then back again.

  ‘I know you only want to help but all I am doing is following your advice. You begged me to talk about my mother. Well, be happy. Because I am. To Anthony. He knew her—I’ll learn far more from him than going round in circles talking to you about someone you never knew, or about a day...an incident...even I cannot remember.’

  He hardened his heart as hurt flashed across her face.

  ‘Alex...please...be reasonable... Yes, I think it will help you to talk about your mother, but I am unconvinced a man you barely know—and a man with a dubious past as far as your family is concerned—is the right confidant.’

  His jaw locked, and it took effort to release it to say, ‘It is not my intention to confide in Anthony, merely to pick his brains to see if it helps restore my memory.’

  She searched his gaze. ‘Very well. I shall say no more.’ She was uncharacteristically abrupt. ‘You know your own mind best.’ Then she sighed. ‘Tell me, how is your headache now? Did the remedy help?’

  He was grateful for the change of subject. ‘Better. And, yes, it did. Thank you. And, Janey...?’ He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. Her brows lifted. ‘I shall take care with Anthony, I promise. You are not to worry.’

  ‘Thank you. Oh! I almost forgot... Anthony asked me to remind you about Sir Henry coming to view that bay mare tomorrow. And will you want me to be there, to ride her for him?’

  ‘I didn’t need reminding. I wasn’t that badly foxed.’ Jane levelled one of her looks at him, prompting a chuckle. ‘I can’t fool you for one minute, can I, Janey? Very well. I confess it had slipped my mind until you mentioned it. And yes. If you don’t mind, I should like your help to show her manners and paces.’

  ‘Of course. I shall be happy to help.’

  Alex picked up their current book, Sense and Sensibility. ‘Shall I read to you while you finish stuffing that rabbit?’

  He said it w
ith an air of doing her a favour but, in truth, he was as eager as Jane to discover the fate of both Elinor and Marianne Dashwood.

  ‘If you feel well enough and it will not prove too much of a trial for you, that would be lovely.’ A smile quivered on her lips. ‘Thank you.’

  * * *

  The talk over dinner at the Halsdon Manor gathering had consisted mainly of politics and business, and the presence of Sir Henry Jacobsen, a Member of Parliament, together with several other respectable gentlemen, had helped lull Alex’s suspicions about Anthony Lascelles. The one objectionable guest was Colin Theobald—a fellow Alex had known, and avoided, for many years. Alex had never liked him, plus he was infamous for his harsh treatment of his horses—an unforgiveable sin in Alex’s book. He’d managed to avoid Theobald on Saturday evening and was dismayed to see him accompanying Anthony and Sir Henry when they came to view the bay mare for Lady Jacobsen.

  ‘I trust you’ve no objection to me tagging along, Beauchamp?’ Theobald’s head swivelled from side to side as he took in everything, his eyes sharp with curiosity. ‘I’m in the market for a team of four...thought I’d see if you’ve anything suitable.’

  Alex had many objections but he kept them to himself. ‘Of course I have no objection. Unfortunately, though, I have nothing currently available.’

  He was damned if he would willingly sell any of his animals to Theobald. One look at the horse he rode in on—the dullness of its eyes and the barely healed scars on its flanks—made that decision easy, business be damned.

  Jane chose that moment to arrive at the stable yard.

  ‘My wife, Lady Jane,’ said Alex. ‘She will ride the mare to demonstrate her paces. My dear, this is Sir Henry Jacobsen and Mr Theobald.’

  It felt good, to introduce her as his wife. To have someone at his side...a feeling he’d seldom experienced in his life. Her smile warmed his heart and pride suffused him as she greeted all three visitors with the exact degree of courtesy and briskness required for what was, after all, a business gathering.