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 of 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 she 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 than 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,” Jane 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?
Jane eyed Nick warily. She had assured herself that he was just being friendly, but from the gleam in his eye as he stared down at the Christmas cracker in her hand, she wasn’t so sure. She untied the ribbon around it and rolled out the paper within.
Jane, it read. I wish you a very happy Christmas — now and always.
She let out an exhale, before Nick winked at her and returned to the kitchen for the next course. He had been lovely helping her. Duncan had offered as well, but had been more hindrance than help for he had no idea what to do — and besides that, whenever he was around, she forgot what she was supposed to be doing, so it was better off that he be across the table next to little Amelia.
She had nearly fainted away at Amelia’s question. Her little voice had carried across the room, and Jane had remained as frozen as everyone else as she awaited Duncan’s answer. He, however, hadn’t said a thing.
And why should he? She had never asked for nor had he ever promised a declaration of love or a future together. She glanced up at him now. While everyone else exchanged Christmas crackers and had given each other gifts earlier in the evening, Duncan sat there alone, with nothing.
With the set of his jaw and the kilt he had insisted on wearing throughout the day — likely in silent protest — he was a man adrift, and Jane longed to cross the room and join him, even though she had no idea what her reception would be.
But far more pressing was that Mary had run from the room — alone.
Once she had returned the trays to the kitchen, instead of then taking her place at the dining room table, Jane took the stairs, seeking out Mary. Something was amiss, although why Mary was hiding it, Jane had no idea.
She entered the room without knocking, figuring that now was not the time for politeness.
Mary was sitting in front of her vanity, painting rouge on her cheeks.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re trying to hide your paleness.” Jane crossed her arms over her chest.
Mary sighed, turning around and standing before practically waddling across the room toward Jane, although despite her efforts, Jane couldn’t help but notice the bend to her back.
“I’m fine,” Mary said, although when she placed a hand on the wall as she walked, it became clear she was lying.
“Mary—”
“Dinner is almost over, Jane,” she said abruptly, pushing past her and out into the corridor. “Let’s just finish this.”
Jane helped her sister down the stairs, but when they reached the bottom, she found that the family was already helping themselves to the plum pudding.
Nick walked over to her, concern on his face.
“It’s clear that Mary is not well,” he said quietly. “We will finish here and then leave. Will you keep us apprised of anything that occurs?”
“We will,” Jane promised, then took a breath before turning to him. While she was aware that Billy’s mother had her own expectations regarding Jane and Nick, she must put a stop to this before it began. “Nick—”
“I know,” he said with a surprising quirk of his lips. “You’re in love with the McDougall, and there can never be anything between us.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “How did you—”
“It’s fine,” he said, before leading her even deeper into the corner, where she was practically hidden between his body, the wall, and the Christmas tree. “Can you keep a secret, Jane?”
“Of course,” she said, looking up at him expectantly.
“You and I, well, we would never be anyway,” he said with a small smile. “I will never take a wife.”
“You won’t?” she asked, astonished. He would make the perfect husband, of that she was certain. If she hadn’t come to know Duncan, then she might have been interested in him, for she never would have known the intense attraction that could exist between two people.
“I will not,” he said, before speaking slowly, “A wife is not my preference.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “I thought—”
She stopped, suddenly realizing just what he meant. It was astonishing and yet… illuminating at the same time.
“Well,” she said slowly. “I wish you the most luck in the world.”
“The same to you,” he said, before surprising her with a quick kiss on the forehead. “Happy Christmas, Jane.”
“Happy Christmas, Nick,” she said, watching him walk away as he began to gather up his family, encouraging them all to find their presents and make for the door.
“The snow is getting thick,” Billy announced as he pushed the curtain back to look out the window. “I’ll help see Mother home.”
“Not to worry,” Nick said, “I can do so.”
“Harriet needs you,” Billy said, motioning to one of their sisters, who had lost her husband a few years prior. “I’ll escort Mother.”
“Very well,” Nick agreed.
“It will not take long,” said Billy to Jane, although Jane noticed the worried glance he tossed Mary’s way. “I suppose McDougall is here in case anything is required.”
“I’ll look after her,” Jane promised, walking over to him and placing a hand on his sleeve. She had no idea where Duncan had gone off to, but she supposed he would reappear at any moment.
Whic
h was, for once, a very reassuring thought.
Chapter 14
Duncan made it about halfway down the road before he paused and glanced behind him. The little house looked as cozy as ever, its red brick just visible through the swirling snow while the chimney smoked puffs of white. He thought of Jane within and the Miller family, all comfortable and warm. No one had likely even noticed yet that he’d gone.
Jane would be fine, he reasoned. He had left her a note, explaining that he had been wrong in remaining in London, waiting for her to return with him. He would travel back to the Highlands, and when she was ready, she could come join him, or he would return and collect her, but he couldn’t stay in London any longer.
If she chose to stay to be with someone like Nick instead… well, so be it. It might be better for all involved.
When he looked back, he noticed that, rather oddly, the light emanating from the front windows had dimmed, as though many of the candles had been snuffed out. That was odd, he reasoned. When he had left the room to pack his bags, the family had still been enjoying the gaiety of the festivities. He had escaped out the back of the house so that no one would see him leave but, come to think of it, he had no longer been able to hear the family.
And one could always hear the Millers.
Duncan paused, unsure of whether he should go back and ensure all was well, or continue on to the rented house, where he would stay for the night before searching out the train schedules to return to the Highlands.
Ultimately, the decision was made for him when Jane stepped out in front of the house and called his name.
“Duncan!” she cried rather desperately, “if you are out there, could you return? Please?”
Duncan didn’t even take time to think on the request — his heart chose for him, as he was down the street and back in front of the house in seconds.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded as he climbed the steps, but Jane was already within. Duncan threw down his bag and followed her, but it was already quite obvious as to what was amiss.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 80
