Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “Jane?” Duncan said, squinting clearly, obviously not placing her. She sighed inwardly, but managed a small smile.

  “You do not know me, then?” she asked, and he shook his head nearly imperceptibly.

  “You are familiar…”

  She held her tongue between her teeth as she raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes. I am rather forgettable, aren’t I? Jane Campbell,” she introduced herself. Again. “Mary’s sister.”

  “You don’t know Jane?” Niall cut in. “You’ve met her before, Dunc, I’m sure of it.”

  “He has,” Jane confirmed. “Quite a few times.”

  Duncan was rubbing his forehead, his handsome, sculpted face twisted in consternation.

  “Listen, Duncan,” she said, folding her hands together, wishing she was wearing something besides the plain cotton dress she had donned for an evening alone, “you were quite obviously looking for Mary, but I must tell you that she has…” Jane paused for a moment, collecting the right words, trying to determine a kind way to ease the truth without inciting Duncan’s famous anger. “Well, she has moved on. I know you were engaged to be married, and she really should have spoken to you directly rather than simply run away, but she knew my father would never allow it. Anyway, she is quite happy now, and she will not be returning to Scotland.”

  Duncan offered no words but continued to stare.

  She considered him. “Did you really think abducting her was the best way to win back her affections?”

  Duncan glowered at her in silence for a moment before sighing and beginning to pace the room. Niall was watching him with amusement, while the other man who had jauntily introduced himself as Keith with a wave from the fireplace seemed quite entertained by the entire display in front of him.

  “I have no intentions of winning her back,” Duncan muttered.

  “No?” Jane said, tilting her head in curiosity. “Then why would you come all this way?”

  “I am taking her back,” he said, stopping his pacing and laying his hands out in front of him, “to your father.”

  “Goodness,” Jane said, taken aback by the news. “I knew my father was upset, but I never thought he would go to such lengths.”

  “We had a discussion following Mary’s… departure,” Duncan explained gruffly. “I would never forcibly marry a woman, of course, but your father implored me to fetch your sister. He asked me to take it on as a job, if nothing else, but I did so due to his long loyalty to the McDougalls over the years.”

  “I see,” Jane said, tilting her head down, saddened by her father’s inability to understand that Mary had taken the actions she did in order to find happiness for herself, and questioning how much Duncan’s own pride had played into his decision to do her father’s bidding. “But Mary does not want to go. In fact, she will not go. Her life is here now, in London.”

  “What are you doing here, Jane?” Niall interjected. He had been a friend of hers since she was a child as her home was in Aldourie, between the McDougall and MacTavish land.

  “I am here visiting my sister, of course,” she said, uninterested in providing Duncan with the full details of her reasons for being in London.

  “Does your father know you’re here?” Duncan asked gruffly. “He never said anything about you when I last spoke with him.”

  Jane hedged before answering. “He will by now.”

  Duncan’s head snapped up, and he looked at her with eyes wide in astonishment. “You left without telling him as well.”

  “I left a note,” Jane defended herself with a shrug as guilt coursed through her anew at her deception, but it had been the only way. “You must have met with him just as I was planning to leave. And I am not here forever. I will return in a couple of months’ time.”

  “You will return with me,” Duncan said, folding beefy arms across his chest, and Jane had to forcibly prevent herself from rolling her eyes at his inability to realize that not everyone responded to his every whim. “You and your sister. We shall fetch her in the morning.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Jane said quietly. “Mary will be staying in London. As will I.”

  Duncan advanced on her, clearly trying to intimidate her, but despite everything within her crying out to retreat, Jane forced herself to hold her ground and not move back an inch. It led to her vision being filled with his chest, which was straining beneath the white linen shirt he wore over top.

  “You will,” he repeated. “Or else…”

  “Or else what?” she asked, calling him on his bluff, and he let out a loud “humph,” and strode away, causing Jane to grin, an expression Niall returned. He was obviously enjoying seeing someone stand up to his friend.

  “Or else, we will forcibly take you both.”

  Jane sighed. She hadn’t wanted to offer up this information, but it seemed she had no choice.

  “Mary cannot travel at the moment,” she said, finally looking up to meet Duncan’s eyes.

  “Why not?” he asked with exasperation, raising his hands out to his side.

  “Because,” she said as she calmly explained, “Mary is with child, and it is a very delicate situation.”

  Duncan didn’t say a word in response. He didn’t have to. His expression said it all.

  * * *

  With child? The woman had left the Highlands less than a month ago. While Duncan hadn’t yet had the opportunity to procreate — that was to have come after his marriage to Mary — he was well aware of how these things worked, and he would have assumed that it would take far longer for Mary to even discover that she was expecting. How would Jane know of it?

  “You are quite obviously lying,” he scoffed, “for there has not been enough time.”

  Jane looked at him as though he were soft in the head, an expression that he had been the recipient of far more often than he would have liked since she had arrived… although he supposed “arrived” was a strong word for how she had come to be here.

  “Billy — the minister — had been travelling through Scotland over the spring and summer,” Jane slowly explained, and Duncan was momentarily distracted by her wide blue eyes — the color of the loch next to Galbury Castle, he noted. “When he arrived in Aldourie to visit his cousin, he met Mary and they were quite… taken with one another. That was April. He continued travelling and returned a couple of months later. As it’s December now… there was plenty of time for a baby to be created. Mary and I were quite creative in hiding her… situation.”

  Many women would speak of such subject matters with a great deal of blushing and much less forthrightness, but Jane Campbell did not seem to be overly affected. Interesting.

  Duncan did feel quite the dobber for not having remembered meeting her. She was pretty, but in a plain sort of way upon first glance. Had she not said anything to him at the time of their acquaintance, he could see why he might not have paid her any notice — especially if Mary was in the room, for she seemed to overwhelm every conversation. Had Jane spoken to him in the same manner she was now, however, then he knew he would never forget her.

  And now that he had the opportunity to converse with her further… once he had stopped pacing and was actually focusing on what she was saying, it seemed that it just might make a difference in his next actions. He noticed the small scattering of freckles over her pert nose, eyes that pierced right through him, and lips that seemed to continually be nearly quirking into a smile.

  He cleared his throat. “I see,” he said, responding to her reveal. “I do not believe your father was aware of this.”

  “Likely not,” Jane said. “And I would implore you not to say anything until after the baby is born. It was one of the reasons Mary left — so that she and Billy could be married and bear their child before anyone was aware of all that had happened.”

  Duncan scratched his temple, unsure of just what he was supposed to do now. He didn’t look at Niall or Keith, for he knew the two of them were finding this entire situation far more humorous than it
actually was. He honestly did not much care over the loss of Mary’s affections, for he knew he had never been the recipient of them in the first place. It was his pride that was hurt, although he would never reveal that to anyone else, most especially Jane Campbell.

  “Mary is… happy here, then, with her preacher?”

  “Very much so,” Jane said, bobbing her head, a small smile quirking her lips. “In fact, they were married just last week.”

  “They were what?”

  “Married,” she said, drawing out the word as though he might not understand it. “They wanted to do so before Christmas.”

  “Christmas,” he said, practically spitting out the word. “How very… English.”

  “Hogmanay, then, for Mary,” she supplied helpfully. “They are going to share their traditions, celebrating both Christmas and the New Year in equal measure.”

  Duncan scoffed, muttering an oath under his breath regarding his thoughts on the English.

  “We were supposed to be married just after Hogmanay,” he said, placing his hands on his hips.

  “Mary does feel quite sorry for what she did to you,” Jane said quietly, and Duncan wondered if she was telling the truth or simply attempting to placate him. “Perhaps, when you return me to her home, she might have the opportunity to tell you so.”

  Duncan knew he was unable to keep his dismay from his face.

  “She will do no such thing,” he ground out, “for you are not going to be returning to her home. I may not be able to force Mary back to Scotland and to your father, but I certainly will not leave you here! One daughter is better than nothing.”

  Jane winced at his words, but she was already shaking her head before he finished.

  “Unfortunately, I must stay,” she said in that calm, practical manner of hers. “You see, Mary’s pregnancy has proven quite difficult. She wrote to me asking that I would come be with her and make sure that all is well. I am a healer of a sort, you see. So, I will not leave until the baby comes.”

  “I cannot return without you,” he said, forcing himself to release the fists he had formed at his sides, though he couldn’t help the anger in his tone.

  “Well then,” Keith supplied, his hulky frame rising from where he had been sitting on the floor, watching the both of them through this entire exchange, “I suppose you will just have to stay here, Duncan.”

  “Absolutely not,” Duncan and Jane said in unison.

  It was the first thing they had agreed upon.

  But Duncan was not leaving without Jane, and she had no intention of going with him.

  Neither was giving in.

  Chapter 3

  They had remained at a deadlock for over an hour now. When Duncan had dug in his heels and told her that in no one’s wildest imaginings would he be leaving her in London, Jane had decided there was only one thing to do — she would have to return to her sister’s home with or without his help.

  He had, however, decided that was not going to be an option, as he stood in front of the door and barred her exit with his massive body.

  “You cannot take me prisoner,” she protested.

  “You are not a prisoner,” he had returned, “but you must remain here until I decide what I am going to do with you. I cannot allow you back into the winter night alone. It is nearing midnight, for one thing, and it is freezing out there. How would I explain to your father that I had allowed you to catch your death in the cold?”

  “Well, that would be both your own fault and his, as you were the one who undertook this ridiculous and quite unnecessary rescue.”

  Duncan took a deep breath as he stared at her, his eyes running from her toes all the way up to meet her eyes once more. His were an icy blue that caused all kinds of quivers to race through her — ones that she didn’t want to put a name to, nor did she care to spend any time further considering.

  “Very well,” he said. “If you are going to be so ornery, then I will take you back in the morning.”

  Jane stared at him in horror.

  “Me, ornery? Duncan,” she tried to reason with him, “you must take me back now! I cannot stay here all night.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t have much of a choice. Besides, what does it matter?”

  “For me to stay here with the three of you? Do you know what sort of scandal that would be?”

  He snorted. “We’re Highlanders. We don’t care a fig for what the self-righteous English think of us, do we?”

  “My father would never allow it, if he knew what you were about.”

  “I think he would. ’Tis better than running off with an Englishman, is it not?”

  Jane turned around, rubbing her temples with her two index and middle fingers. She was tired, but she needed to find her way back. She thought she had masked her exhaustion, but it seemed Duncan was more observant that she had supposed.

  “You can sleep in my bed.”

  His voice rumbled from across the room, sending little shocks through her chest.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you can sleep in my bed.” He waved toward a back room. “The rest of us will make our bedrolls out here.”

  “This is outrageous,” she said, at a loss, wishing she was more like Mary, who always got her way, no matter the circumstance. “I don’t have any of my belongings. My sister must be desperate with worry—”

  “Was she sleeping when you left?” Duncan interjected.

  “Well, yes, I suppose.”

  “Then there is nothing to worry about. You’ll be back before first light.”

  Jane realized that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this pigheaded man and turned in disgust to the small back bedroom, finding that there wasn’t much within but the bed itself. She was surprised to see that the bed was quite carefully made, and when she pulled back the covers and crawled in, she was instantly enveloped by the musky, heady scent that was all Duncan McDougall. He must have slept here the previous night. She both loved and hated the fact that when she pulled the blankets around her it was almost as though he was there with her, holding her close in an embrace.

  For all she could think about as she drifted off to sleep much faster than she would have ever expected given the circumstance and the strange bed, was that her sister was fortunate she hadn’t married such a man. Very fortunate indeed.

  * * *

  “Looks like you’re going to be spending some time in London, then, Dunc?”

  Duncan wanted to lean over and wipe the smile off of Niall’s face, but the unfortunate truth was that his friend was right. He had backed himself into a corner and he didn’t see any other way out.

  “It’s quite the commitment when you’re just doing this as a favor,” Keith added to the conversation as he poured them all another drink, to which Duncan only grunted.

  For this was far more than a favor. He had lost a woman. Not only lost her, but she had chosen another man over him. That stung worse than anything else he could fathom. He had promised her father, on his word, that he would retrieve her and return her to their family. If Jane was telling the truth, it didn’t seem that was likely to be possible, but he certainly wasn’t going to leave the sister behind as well.

  “I’ll talk her into leaving soon enough,” he said gruffly. “She’s a Highlander through and through. She’ll learn to hate the English, especially since the Christmas season is upon us.”

  “You know, I’ve always wondered about the English Christmas,” Niall began to muse, but stopped when Duncan shot him a look that told him just what he thought about Niall’s wonderings.

  “It’s fanciful,” Duncan said, waving a hand in the air. “Their celebrations have nothing to do with the actual reason for it. I only hope we will be long gone from here within the week before it arrives, and that we will be back to celebrate Hogmanay in Scotland, where we belong.”

  “Have fun with the English,” Niall said with a wink. “As much as I would love to stay and watch how this all plays out — and spend a bit
more time with the lovely Jane — I have to be returning. I cannot begin to fathom how this is going to end.”

  “Me neither, Niall,” Duncan muttered. “Me neither.”

  * * *

  Jane woke sometime in the middle of the night, although she had no idea what time it was. A small bit of light shone in through the slit in the dark window curtains. She didn’t think she would ever get used to lights that never went out on the streets of London. At home, in the Highlands, when the sun set, the world turned black until morning but for the stars and moon to guide their way.

  She heard an odd rustling and sat bolt upright in bed.

  “Who’s there?” she asked when a muffled curse reached her ears.

  “Just me,” came Duncan’s muttered voice. “Forget that I’m here.”

  “I cannot pretend that you aren’t here,” she said practically, knowing that, if nothing else, Duncan’s pride and honor would prevent him from actually attempting anything untoward. “I thought we were keeping from scandal. I hardly think your presence in the bedroom is helping things.”

  “No one will know,” he said. “I’m just looking for my plaid. I must have left it in here. Ye wouldn’t want me to freeze tonight, now would you?”

  Jane heard the slur of his words then and she fixed her gaze toward where she could now see his silhouette.

  “Are you drunk?” she asked, somewhat incredulous.

  “Nay,” he insisted, but then she heard him stumble again — which was quite ridiculous, considering there was hardly any furniture at all in the room.

  “Whose house is this?” she asked, suddenly struck by the concern that the three of them had found themselves a vacant house in which to reside for the night.

  “A friend of Niall’s,” he said, before a long pause. “I think.”

  “Oh, dear,” she responded with a sigh, before sensing his nearing presence.