Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel

by St. Clair, Ellie

  Duncan’s Christmas

  The Victorian Highlanders Prequel

  Ellie St. Clair

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Callum’s Vow

  A sneak peek…

  Also by Ellie St. Clair

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  London, 1855

  “I despise this city.”

  Duncan McDougall folded his arms across his chest as he peered out the window into the inky London night. It was disconcerting, staring out onto the city beyond and seeing lights dotting his view every way he looked. Night was supposed to be lit by the moon and stars, as his Highland hills of home were — certainly not by the machinations of man.

  A snort resounded from behind him. “Is it the city you have ill feelings toward or the reason you are here?”

  Duncan sighed as he lowered his arms and turned around to face his friend.

  “I must confess ’tis a bit of both, Niall,” he said, sliding into the uncomfortable wooden chair next to him. “No man steals from a McDougall and gets away with it.”

  “No man steals from a Highlander, you mean,” Niall corrected him. “Especially right out from under your very nose. You usually have better instincts, Duncan.”

  Duncan fixed a dark look upon him, and Niall shrugged, unaffected, unlike most who found themselves set upon by the McDougall glare.

  “A simple observation.”

  “An Englishman ran away with my betrothed,” Duncan said through gritted teeth. “I promised Campbell I would find his daughter and return to Aldourie with her. I’m a man of my word.”

  “Never said you weren’t,” Niall said, lazily crossing an ankle over his other knee. “Although it can’t be denied this lass went willingly.”

  He braced himself, obviously prepared for Duncan’s wrath, but Duncan turned to look out into the frigid London evening. Niall’s words chafed at him, but he couldn’t rebuke them — for they were, quite sadly, the truth.

  “What are ye going to do when you find them?” Niall asked, standing and walking over to the pitcher of ale on the sideboard. “You’re going to retake a woman who’s freely given herself to an Englishman, choosing him over you? Never would have thought you’d be satisfied with another man’s seconds.”

  “Nay!” Duncan shook his head forcefully. “I’ll return her to her father and be done with them.”

  “Your family’s been friends with the Campbells for years,” Niall said, his voice growing louder as his footsteps approached from behind Duncan, who only turned when he felt the touch of a cool glass on his bared arm, and he accepted the drink from his friend with a nod.

  “They have. And we will continue to remain friends. ’Tis not the father’s fault that the girl became flighty.”

  “Perhaps you frightened her.”

  “She’s not the type to be scared off,” Duncan said, shaking his head before biting out, “and I barely spoke two words to her!”

  Niall shrugged. “That could have been part of the problem.”

  Duncan swore and turned from the window, draining the amber liquid in his glass in one long swallow.

  “What do you know? It’s not like you’ve ever had a woman attached to your name.”

  “By choice. Although—”

  Just then the door of the rented house banged open behind them and Keith came stumbling through.

  “I’ve found her.”

  Duncan and Niall turned as one.

  “Ye have?” Duncan asked, and Keith confirmed his words with a nod. He seemed somewhat the worse for wear, ale on his breath and rouge on his collar, though he was no longer warmed by whoever’s embrace he had found, for he was shivering from the cold air that had entered into the room with him. “Where were you?”

  Keith smiled sheepishly. “A few clubs. I had to search out information. Took a while to find someone who had heard of your woman and her minister.”

  “She isn’t my woman any longer.”

  “Well, the woman you’re searching for,” Keith said, shrugging. He had known Duncan since they were babes and was one of the few not affected by his gruffness. “They live in a vicarage just a few neighbourhoods away. I walked by. ’Tis small — a couple of stories. Not much to look at, but tidy. Quaint. Shouldn’t be much trouble to find in the morning.”

  “In the morning?” Duncan repeated, raising his eyebrows. “I’ll not wait ’til morning.”

  “What are you meaning to do, Duncan?” Niall asked, eyeing him with equal parts suspicion and interest.

  “I’ll do what any good Scot would do.”

  Niall began muttering to himself as he turned away and picked up his plaid, throwing it over his shoulders.

  “We’re going to go steal back the woman.”

  * * *

  Jane stepped out of the front door, the wooden boards creaking beneath her weight.

  She took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air as she gazed out over the small houses that lined Mary’s neighborhood. She rubbed her hands over her arms as the skin turned to gooseflesh. The air held the scent of moisture, and she wondered if snow here would be much the same as it was in the Highlands.

  Home.

  She sighed. It had only been a few days, and she missed it already. It would be weeks, or perhaps a couple of months, however, until she would return. She had a most important task to complete first.

  “Jane?”

  She turned her head, forcing a smile on her face when she saw her sister’s silhouette in the doorframe.

  “Mary. I thought you were sleeping.”

  “I couldn’t,” Mary said, shaking her head before holding out a wool blanket to Jane. Tears pricked at Jane’s eyes when she saw that it was a plaid from home. “Here. If you’re going to be out here risking catching cold, then you should try to stay warm.”

  Her sister stepped forward and wrapped it around Jane’s shoulders, leaning her cheek on Jane’s back for a moment.

  “Thank you for coming, Janey,” she said softly. “I know how hard this must be for you, being so far from home and in less than ideal circumstances.”

  “It’s fine,” Jane said, patting the hand that rested on her shoulder.

  “It’s not, really,” Mary said, “but I appreciate it all the same.”

  “We’ll get through this, Mary,” Jane said with all the reassurance she could muster, “that’s why I’m here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  Mary nodded before returning into the house, leaving Jane alone with her thoughts and the chill of the winter London air.

  If only she believed the words she just told Mary. It wasn’t that she didn’t think there was a chance that everything could be fine. It was only that she didn’t wish her sister had put all of her faith in her.

  For Jane was lacking most of that faith in herself.

  * * *

  Duncan peered through the bushes from the opposite side of the road, taking a good look at the nondescript brick house that was, apparently, the vicarage. The church sat nearby, slightly larger than the houses that surrounded it but equally non-imposing.

  Smoke puffed out of the house’s chimney, soon swept away by the chilly wind before more filled its place. The scent of fires from the entire neighbo
rhood filled him, making him wish he was at home at Galbury Castle, sitting in front of the hall’s welcoming fireplace.

  Instead, he was freezing his bloody arse off as he waited to rescue a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Are we going to move, or sit out here and freeze to death?” Niall complained from beside him, while Keith let out a slight belch followed by an “Excuse me,” on the other side.

  “We’re going to wait until the candle goes out inside,” Duncan said, before placing his hand on Niall’s arm to still him. “Look, someone is on the front step.”

  “A woman or a man?”

  “I can’t tell. We’re too far, and it’s too dark.”

  “Someone else has come out now,” Keith added. “They look quite close.”

  Duncan nodded, steeling himself against the simmering anger that often threatened, surprised when none was forthcoming.

  “Is that the dodger?”

  “I have no idea,” Duncan said, suddenly needing to be free of his friends. “I’m going to circle around and take a quick look in the windows. The two of you stay here.”

  “But—” Niall began to rise.

  “Stay here,” Duncan said, slowing his words. “I will be but a moment.”

  He pushed himself out of his squat position, crossed the street, and crouched low once more as he made his way to the brick structure with its cone-shaped roof. He poked his head out around each corner before going by, and then stood on his toes in order to see within each window that he could find. He couldn’t forget Niall’s words — it seemed he was acting the bloody burglar, comparable to a common criminal, but he was only reclaiming what had been taken from him and his people.

  The shadow was gone from the doorway now, and he prayed that his former betrothed was still awake while the minister slept on. It would make his abscondment much easier.

  He crept over to the final side window, standing on his toes in order to see in. The room was fairly sparsely furnished, but there, in the corner, sitting on some kind of sofa was a woman bent over what he would guess to be a book. Long, straight, dark hair, shining in the light of the embers in the grate, floated down her back, telling Duncan all he needed to know. Here was the woman he had been engaged to, who he was supposed to marry not long after Hogmanay.

  Now he would have to find another bride, and he wasn’t entirely thrilled about the prospect.

  He crept around to the back door, pleased to find that the knob turned in his hand. The London minister should know better than that, he thought with a shake of his head. This was one of the reasons that he couldn’t leave her here with him — these Englishmen obviously had no idea how to properly care for their women. Even though she and Duncan would never now marry, at least she would be well protected by whatever Scot her father could entice to marry her after her scandalous escape.

  Duncan shook his head at the silly whim of a young woman unsure of what she wanted in life.

  But that would no longer be his problem. She was her father’s to worry about once more.

  The back entrance opened into a small storage area, through which he found himself in a clean kitchen. The door off the kitchen opened up into a dining room that he had seen was one of the house’s front rooms, and beside it would be the drawing room where he had spotted the woman.

  He eased open the door, finding the room to actually be rather inviting. He took careful steps into the living space. If she had come to London willingly — and, if he was being honest, he didn’t think the friendly vicar likely forced her — then chances were, she was not going to come back to the Highlands quietly. He leaned to the side in order to peer around the corner for a better glimpse of her, nearly bellowing out in surprise when a fat orange tomcat peered out at him instead.

  Seemingly uncaring at his presence, the cat continued on, while Duncan looked in to see if the woman was sitting there. She was. He didn’t want this to resort to any violence, but nor did he want to stand out here all evening nor risk an encounter with the minister. Best to get this over with as quickly and as quietly as possible.

  In a few long, silent strides, he was across the room and behind her. Just as she picked her head up, he wrapped an arm around her waist and place his hand over her mouth so that she couldn’t call out, although he made sure she could breathe. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

  “I’ll not hurt you. Come with me willingly. I’m here to help.”

  She stiffened in his arms, but nodded haltingly, and he leaned over, blew out her candle, and then lifted her and steered her through the darkness of the room and back the way he had come. As soon as they were outside the door and he had kicked it shut, he wrapped her up in the plaid she had been wearing over her legs and threw her up over his shoulder.

  As soon as her mouth was free, she surprisingly stayed silent. Perhaps she was smart enough to realize that the night was cold and there was no one on the street — except Niall and Keith.

  “You stole her?”

  Duncan threw Keith a dark look as they left their hiding spot to meet him in the middle of the street, but didn’t answer his question. He should understand the way of it.

  They rounded the corner to where they had left the hack they had hired, and Duncan tossed her on the seat before Niall and Keith crawled in after him.

  The girl stuck her head out the window.

  “Excuse me, sir, but I—”

  Duncan had his hand back over her mouth before she could call the hackney cabby’s attention toward her.

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he muttered in her ear from between gritted teeth and she squirmed from where he held her against his side on the seat. “We’ll speak more when we arrive. It isn’t far,” he continued, and mercifully she settled into peaceful silence.

  Somehow, he had a feeling it wasn’t going to last long.

  Chapter 2

  Jane had never really considered the idea of being kidnapped. After all, who would ever want to take her? She was no stunning beauty. Her father was respectable, but he was no one who would wield any particular power.

  Had she thought of it prior to it actually happening, however, she would have hoped that in such an event she would maintain a sense of calm and practicality that would see her through the ordeal.

  As it happened, she was rather proud of her ability to contain her emotions throughout her current situation.

  But then, she was also very much aware of her captor’s identity.

  The moment he had leaned down and whispered in her ear to stay put, she had known by that deep, husky, unmistakeable voice exactly who he was.

  Duncan McDougall.

  Everyone who lived in her part of the world knew of the son of the McDougall chieftain. He was, physically, one of the largest men she had ever seen. But even more than that, he was a mountain of a man in every sense she could imagine. Gruff, intimidating, unbending… Mary had hated the thought of marrying him from the start, while Jane had met him only a handful of times.

  There was the chance he felt wronged after her sister had broken their betrothal and run away with Billy Miller, but Jane would never have thought he would go to such lengths to retaliate against their family. Besides, her father had been as irate as anyone over what had happened. So why take her and how had he even known she was in London?

  Well, she would ask him, just as soon as he “allowed” her to speak. It was all quite annoying. She had been rather comfortable in the sitting room chair, reading her book, and this little foray to wherever he thought he was taking her was all quite inconvenient. She only hoped that her sister wouldn’t wake up and worry about where she had gone.

  The vehicle came to a jolting halt, and Jane was thrown forward, until strong hands wrapped around her arms and held her up.

  “If I lead you, will you walk?”

  She nodded curtly, taking the bastard’s hand as he led her down the steps of the hack and onto the hard ground below. It was freezing, and she wondered if it was
going to snow.

  Which was quite a silly thing to be thinking at this point in time.

  “Up we go,” he said as they came to what seemed to be stairs — rather rickety ones at that. They swayed underneath their weight as they ascended, and Jane looked behind her at the other two figures who accompanied them, but she couldn’t make them out in the darkness.

  When they entered the building, the wind ceased, although it was still not particularly warm.

  “Stoke the fire, will you?” Duncan asked his companions as he led her to sit on a piece of furniture that was quite soft, if nothing else.

  Jane turned her head to take in the room around her. It wasn’t much — there was a round wooden table with a few mismatched chairs surrounding it, the sofa she was currently sitting on that had seen better days, and a plain fireplace with a few embers still burning within that the third man was currently stoking.

  When her gaze came to rest on Duncan, he finally took a good look at her, and his crystal blue eyes went wide as he froze, one hand in his far too long unruly brown hair.

  “You’re not Mary.”

  Jane quirked an eyebrow. Ah. He had mistaken them. “I most certainly am not.”

  “But—” He looked around the room at the other two men. One stood near the door, the other was by the fireplace.

  “Hello, Niall,” she greeted the one standing. She wasn’t acquainted with the third man.

  “Jane!” Niall’s face creased into a large smile as he strode across the room and bowed over her hand as though she were the queen of England. “How lovely to see you.”

  “You do realize the three of you just abducted me?” she asked, standing now so that she was on even footing with them. She was not the boldest woman there ever was, but she was also not particularly pleased with the sequence of events.