Christmas with His Wallflower Wife

by Janice Preston

  Alex took another step. His stomach dived at the slight give in the ice beneath his feet. He must lie flat...distribute his weight over a bigger surface...he glanced back at the shore. His father was on the ice, closing the distance between them.

  ‘Father!’ Alex roared, his gut churning. He must make amends for his mother, but it would all be for nothing if anything were to happen to his father. His throat tightened with fear. ‘Father. Go back! It’s not safe.’

  ‘Then come back. He’s not worth it. Please, Alex.’

  A scant second later an ominous crack reached his ears. He was too late to even lie down.

  Water so frigid it seized his breath as he plunged into the dark depths.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Alex!’ Jane screamed, her heart bursting. ‘No!’

  Hands grabbed her, hauling her away from the edge of the ice. Dominic held her tight as she struggled to free herself.

  ‘Oh, God. Oh, dear God. Please, God. Oh, God.’

  The words babbled forth as the Duke lay flat and pulled himself along the surface of the ice. Too quickly for safety. Too desperate for caution. Alex resurfaced and clutched at the edge of the ice but the Duke stopped. Mere feet away.

  ‘A rope! Something!’ Sheer desperation in the Duke’s voice.

  ‘Jane!’ She tore her eyes from the drama on the ice. Dominic gripped her shoulders hard. ‘Do not go on to the ice. Do you hear me? Let us concentrate on saving Alex.’

  She nodded, one sane corner of her brain acknowledging she could only make matters worse. Dominic pushed her towards where the Duchess—her eyes huge—stared out across the lake. Liberty and Olivia stood either side of her, and they parted to let Jane back into their group.

  ‘Hurry!’ The Duke’s roar resounded across the lake.

  Then Hugo was among them. ‘Your scarves! Quick now!’

  His own neckcloth was already in his hands, and Jane saw Dominic—his hands shaking—untying his. Hugo began to knot the lengths together. There was something she could do...she ran to help him, noticing he’d tied one of the neckcloths to form a loop.

  ‘Livvy—run and get help,’ ordered Hugo.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Now, Liv. Rope. Blankets. Men. A cart.’

  Olivia turned and ran. Jane had never seen this side of the normally easy-going, fun-loving Hugo. He sounded like a general barking orders at his men.

  ‘Hector.’

  The dog loped across to Hugo, who tied the looped end of their makeshift rope to his collar. And then the Duchess was there, taking Hector to the edge of the ice.

  ‘Find Leo, boy. Go to Leo.’

  Hector’s ears pricked and then he was on the ice, running, his long legs splaying out at odd angles.

  ‘It won’t be long enough, but the ice is safe enough near the edge.’ Dominic stepped on to the ice as Hector reached the Duke.

  ‘No!’ Hugo stopped him. ‘I’m lighter than you. Let me go first. We’ll form a chain. It’s the only way. If anyone else goes in, at least we’ll have a chance of saving them.’

  ‘I’m lighter than all of you,’ said Jane. ‘Let me go first.’

  ‘You haven’t the strength,’ Hugo said.

  Jane stood, feeling helpless and useless, her mind as numb as her body. Across the lake, Alex’s head and shoulders were visible, his forearms on the ice.

  Please be in time. I can’t lose him. Not now.

  The Duke untied the makeshift rope from Hector’s collar by which time Hugo, on his belly, was already close behind him. The Duke then skimmed the loop towards Alex.

  ‘Alex! Put both arms through the loop!’

  Hugo’s shout was audible from the shore and, heart in her mouth, Jane watched as Alex—excruciatingly slowly—did as Hugo said.

  Please God. Please God.

  ‘Bend your elbows. Bring your hands to your shoulders.’

  Liberty joined Jane on the shore, and hugged her.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jane. They’ll get him out.’

  The words and gesture freed Jane from the awful numbness gripping her. She began to shake. Her throat ached with fear, and hot tears crowded her eyes. Furious, she blinked them away. She must be able to see.

  Hugo anchored the Duke’s booted ankles into the crook of his elbows and Dominic was on his knees, gripping Hugo’s ankles. He was tantalisingly close to the shore, but not close enough.

  They began to pull. It was agonisingly slow, difficult to get any purchase on the ice, but they inched backwards and Alex slowly emerged from the hole in the ice. Dominic’s muscles bulged as he pulled but his knees kept slipping from under him and he seemed as far away from the edge of the ice as ever.

  Jane straightened. Wrenched away from Liberty, and ventured on to the ice.

  ‘Jane! No!’

  She ignored Liberty’s scream. She hadn’t ice-skated for years but, even without skates, she kept her balance. She reached Alex’s discarded greatcoat, grabbed it, then slid her way back to Dominic. He glared at her, sweat beading his forehead.

  ‘Don’t waste your breath scolding me.’ Jane spread the coat behind Dominic, the hem closest to him. ‘Lift one knee.’

  She slid the edge of the coat underneath his knee. He glanced down, then back at her, hope lighting his face. He knelt on the coat and then lifted the other knee, and Jane quickly manoeuvred herself behind him, grabbing hold of the sleeves of the coat, but she was still on the ice and she knew Alex’s only hope was for someone to anchor on to the land. She lay flat, as the men had done. Luck had played its part...she had placed the greatcoat lining side down and she could push her arms into the sleeves up to her elbows. Her hands alone wouldn’t have the strength to grip and pull but this would help. Hands grabbed each of her ankles and she knew then that the Duchess and Liberty had guessed her plan. She glanced over her shoulder. Both of them knelt on the grass. Not the ice.

  ‘Pull!’ she screamed. ‘Pull!’

  She sent up another silent prayer, then gritted her teeth against the agonising wrench as her arms felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. But they were moving and then, of a sudden, the strain eased and Alex was out of the water, his body sliding rapidly towards safety. And first Jane, and then Dominic, were on solid ground, watching as the Duke and Hugo hauled Alex unceremoniously over the ice and on to the shore.

  Fear clawed at every inch of Jane, but she refused to give way. Alex needed her now, and she would not fail him. She dropped to her knees, ripped off her gloves and began to unbutton his jacket.

  ‘Help me,’ she gasped.

  Between them, they stripped Alex out of his freezing, sodden clothes and wrapped him in hastily donated coats. He lay still. Unresponsive. Barely breathing.

  ‘It’s not enough. He’s too cold. It’s not enough.’

  Jane had never seen the Duke look so broken. So helpless. The Duchess, shivering in her gown and shawl, had her arms around him, her expression bleak.

  ‘No! There must be a way to warm him. We’re not giving up!’ Jane lay next to Alex, putting her arms around him. The coats were a barrier, and she burrowed into them, nestling into him, thrusting down her despair at the iciness of his skin.

  A shout sounded.

  ‘Livvy’s on her way with help.’ Hugo squatted beside Jane. ‘You’re doing the right thing, Jane. Share your body heat. I learned that when I was a boy in Northumberland. Stay with him until we get him indoors.’

  That was all the encouragement she needed. She closed her eyes and stayed tucked close as they were further wrapped in blankets and placed on a hand cart and taken back to the Abbey. Alex was then placed in a tub of warm water—Not too hot, Hugo ordered—and Jane sat by his side, as servants hurried in and out, dipping out buckets of cooling water and replacing them with warm for what seemed like hours.

  He was breathing. His heart was
beating. His skin began to regain colour. That was what she concentrated on, murmuring her love for him into his ear, begging him not to give in...to come back to her...not to die.

  He’d not inhaled any water—a blessing the doctor said when he arrived. He confirmed Alex could be moved into a warmed bed, and told them they must be patient and allow Alex to wake up when he was ready.

  * * *

  Alex came to his senses slowly, gradually becoming aware he was in bed, in his bedchamber, with a fire in the hearth. Two figures sat at his bedside, one either side. To his right, his father. He frowned, and looked left. Relief enveloped him. Jane.

  She was all he needed.

  But there was something...he racked his brains...something he must say to her. Before it was too late. Something he’d regretted...something he’d wanted to say to her...when he was cold...so cold...when he was sure he’d left it too late. He shivered involuntarily, and she stirred, her eyes meeting his. Eyes filled with the love he had taken for granted until it was almost too late.

  The memory shot to the surface... Lascelles...the ice...the cold...

  Alex reached for Jane, and she took his hand, smiling tenderly. ‘All I could think...’ his voice was a hoarse whisper ‘...when I thought I would die...’ She whimpered, and tightened her hand around his. He squeezed back. ‘All I could think was I would never get the chance to tell you—and to prove to you—how much I love you, Janey.’

  Her glorious, beloved smile was all the response he needed. He felt his eyelids droop. Everything seemed such an effort...all he wanted was to sleep again but he was loath to close his eyes, needing the reassurance Jane was with him. He was vaguely aware his father had stirred, and he wrenched his gaze from Jane.

  ‘Welcome back, Son.’ Tears shone in Father’s eyes. ‘We thought we’d lost you. Thank God you’ve lived to plague us all for a few years yet.’ His smile wobbled. ‘I’ll say goodnight, and we’ll talk in the morning.’ He switched his attention to Jane. ‘Thank you, Jane, for all you have done. Goodnight.’

  Alex barely noticed him leave the room. He pulled the eiderdown aside. ‘Come to bed, Honeybee. I need to hold you. To know I am not alone.’

  She smiled again, slipped off her robe and slid into bed, wrapping her arms around him.

  ‘Silly,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll never be alone while you have me and your family. Now sleep.’

  * * *

  The following day he learned Lascelles had drowned but he found it impossible to summon up either guilt or regret. The need for revenge no longer consumed him—all he wanted, with his whole being, was to be a good husband to Jane and to share everything in his life with her. No longer would he keep parts of his life separate...he no longer needed to. He was reconciled with his father. There were no more past secrets hanging over him.

  But he must talk...properly...to Jane, and set their problems to rest.

  But that, frustratingly, proved almost impossible, with a houseful of people constantly asking him if he was well and wanting to share their experience of the drama with him. On doctor’s orders, he was to rest and stay warm. He’d already refused to remain in bed, and compromised by agreeing to sit by the fire in the parlour but there was no privacy for what he wanted to say to his wife. She had told him, repeatedly, she was happy not to talk about it yet, but that made him more determined to clear the air. He’d spent too much of their marriage avoiding awkward conversations. It was time to put that right.

  Eventually, at the end of his tether and sick of being treated as an invalid, he took action.

  ‘Alex?’ He’d taken advantage of her brief absence to order William, one of his father’s footmen, to take a message to the stables to prepare his carriage. Now, Jane burst in, her eyes huge. ‘William said you’ve ordered the carriage. Are you...are you going home?’

  Her uncertainty tore at him. Still she feared the worst.

  ‘No, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘I’m going nowhere without you by my side. We are going for a carriage ride so I can set your mind at rest once and for all, and without interruption from well-meaning members of my own family.’

  ‘But you aren’t strong enough, Alex. The doctor said—’

  ‘Stuff the doctor.’ Alex threw aside the rug Rosalind had insisted he wear over his legs and stood up.

  ‘But, Alex—’

  ‘No more “buts”, Janey. I am going. Will you come with me?’

  He held out his hand. Jane stared at it.

  ‘Half an hour...that’s all. I promise. We won’t even leave the estate.’

  Jane smiled, taking his hand. ‘Very well. But you must also promise that if you start to get tired, or feel ill, or—’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Alex laughed as he swept her into his arms and kissed her. ‘I promise I will tell you. But you ought to know, my darling wife, that it will take a lot more than a dip into an icy lake to keep me down. Now, make sure you wrap up warm—I don’t want you distracted by the shivers while I am eating humble pie. At least...’ he captured her gaze ‘...not that sort of shivering!’

  He was rewarded by her blush, and a loving smile.

  He handed Jane into the carriage to find fur rugs, blankets and hot bricks already inside and he realised William must have arranged them before he relayed Alex’s request to the stables.

  ‘Thank you, William.’

  William bowed. ‘It would never do for Lady Jane to catch a chill, milord,’ he replied, with a grin.

  ‘Now. Janey.’ Alex faced Jane as the carriage set off at a sedate walk. ‘I only know to start by saying I am sorry.’

  She pressed her fingers to his lips.

  ‘I am sorry, too, Alex. If I had known what burden you were suffering under, I would never have left the way I did. I couldn’t imagine anything so awful you couldn’t share it with me. I was wrong.’

  ‘I never meant to tell anyone about my suspicions, Jane. I certainly never intended to tell Lascelles but it somehow blurted out. Oh, Janey, I’ve been such a fool. You warned me how manipulative he was, but I wouldn’t listen and I stepped straight into his web. All I could think of was finding out more about my mother and trying to stop the fear that my father had killed her from surfacing.’

  ‘I still find it hard to understand how you believed it. You know your father is an honourable man—how could you ever believe he could assault and strangle his own wife?’

  Alex thrust his hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t even know that memory was lurking in the depths of my mind. All I knew...all I have ever known...is that I did not dare allow my memory of that day to fully form, knowing instinctively it would spell disaster for my family. And so I kept it suppressed. I didn’t even realise I’d witnessed my mother’s murder. I believed what they believed, and what they told me...that I had found her body.’

  He hauled in a deep breath, and took her hands in his. ‘But that’s not why we’re here, Janey. We are here to talk about us. About our marriage. About...’ and his pulse gave that little kick he felt whenever he looked deep into her beautiful eyes ‘...about how much I love you.’

  ‘Do you, Alex? Truly?’

  ‘I do,’ he vowed, solemnly. ‘And I shall tell you so every day. You need never doubt me again...you may accuse me of being a slow learner, however, for I did not realise how far you had burrowed your way into my heart until after you left.’ He drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I never want to feel that way again. Ever. I have learned my lesson.

  ‘Darling Honeybee...’ He pulled her close, and kissed her lips, but he didn’t allow himself to deepen it even though his blood hummed with the need of her. He still had things to say. ‘I didn’t even realise how deeply I hurt you by not telling you what was in my head. It was never that I didn’t trust you, please believe me. I only thought to protect you—to protect them all. And I thought I could manage it alone, as I always have. But when I found you gone...when I realised
how badly I’d hurt you—only then did I realise how deeply I love you, and that I no longer want to manage anything alone.’

  Jane smiled at him, and put one hand against his cheek. ‘I love you, too, Alex. I always have, even when I was that annoying little girl for ever buzzing around and driving you mad.’

  ‘Then I am doubly all kinds of a fool for not recognising the treasure under my nose all this time.’

  His lips feathered over hers...once...twice...then he angled his head to deepen his kiss and to dip his tongue inside, tasting her sweetness as she melted in his arms.

  Epilogue

  The entire Beauchamp family descended on the Abbey for Christmastide. It was chaotic. And Alex loved every minute of it.

  The two weeks between Alex’s accident and Christmas day had been sweet beyond measure. The woman he loved was by his side—and she was happy...he was making her happy! And, for almost the first time in his life, he could relax enough to allow his love to shine forth.

  He could finally enjoy being a member of the Beauchamp family.

  His family.

  His wonderful, funny, joyful family.

  Dominic and Olivia and their spouses were there from the start, of course, together with Julius and Daisy. But the fun really started once Uncle Vernon and Aunt Cecily arrived with their respective families, a week before Christmas.

  Remembering Aunt Cecily’s reaction when she saw him still made his throat ache with emotion. Nothing, it seemed, could stem her flow of tears as she tumbled from the carriage. She’d run to Alex, hugging him as though she would never let him go...as she used to when he was a boy, until he outgrew such nonsense. Then, over the top of her head, he caught sight of first his father, his silver-grey eyes shiny, and then Uncle Vernon with his own eyes sheening and, before he could blink them away, tears rolled unchecked down Alex’s cheeks.

  He’d soon found himself in great demand as a fun-loving big brother to Christabel and Sebastian and as uncle to the rest of the nippers, and he discovered it wasn’t only Dominic who had a natural rapport with the children. At first he hung back, expecting one of his black moods to rear up, driving him to his usual role of watching with envy as everyone else made merry. But his moods had vanished and he no longer needed to retreat behind his barriers and keep everyone at bay.