“Jane! Jane! I’m so sorry to disturb you, but Mary is asking for you.”
Jane gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed before looking between Duncan and the door, as though Billy was going to enter and find them naked together in bed.
Duncan waved his hand toward the door, telling her to go ahead, but Jane was not waiting for his opinion. She was already out of the bed, running around the room as she threw on her night rail and splashed water on her face.
“I’ll be right there!” she called. “What is happening, Billy? Does she have any pain? Is she bleeding at all? Is her head bothering her? Is—”
“She’s just sick, Jane,” came Billy’s voice with a sigh from beyond the door. “Everything from dinner came back up again, and with my family coming tomorrow for the day…”
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “That’s right. It’s Christmas Eve. I had forgotten.”
She looked over to Duncan, who threw his hands up at his side, for he hadn’t been at all focused on the date. How long did this Christmas celebration last anyway?
“Yes,” Billy said, somewhat dejectedly. “And I will be at the church all day and all evening, with the exception of dinner, so I am relying on you, Jane, to ensure that all is well. Are you coming?”
“Yes!” she said, running to the door, with one quick look back at Duncan. Her lips quirked into a quick smile when he winked at her, and then she opened the door just far enough that she could fit through, and went running away with Billy.
Duncan threw himself back on the bed, one arm over his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Last night had been the most incredible, intoxicating, unexpected experience of his life. And yet guilt nagged at him for taking Jane from what she was here for — her sister.
He knew Jane wouldn’t welcome the distraction, but he couldn’t help his slight annoyance that she was expected to not only help Mary through the night, but to also prepare dinner tomorrow and entertain the entire Miller family once more. She was here to help Mary, not play housewife when her sister wasn’t able to.
He had to prove to her that she was more than someone else’s caretaker, but a woman that everyone else deserved to see. He would ensure that she became well known in the Highlands, he promised himself — once she was his wife.
His eyes flew upon once more at the unbidden thought that had soared into his head. His wife? And yet… he looked at the rumpled bedclothes around him. He had known what kind of woman Jane was, and was aware that after all that had just occurred between them, Jane was probably expecting marriage.
But what shocked him most was that, knowing what he must do, he was also filled with a strange peacefulness. Now, he just had to wonder — would she say yes?
* * *
“Mary!”
Jane rushed into her sister’s room, slightly sick herself when she found that Mary’s cheeks were nearly as white as the pillowcase behind her, while a slight sheen of sweat glistened across her brow.
“Jane,” Mary groaned from her prone position. Her stare was not accusing, but it was… curious. “Where were you?”
“I was… sleeping,” she lied. While she was aware that if there was anyone in this world who shouldn’t judge her — and most likely wouldn’t — it was Mary, who had become pregnant long before marriage and had then ran off with the man, leaving another behind.
Mary nodded. “Of course, Jane. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so adverse toward you. I just… oh, goodness.”
Jane rushed over to her side, one hand coming to her sister’s abdomen at Mary’s grimace of pain. By Jane’s estimation — according to Mary’s recollection, at any rate — Mary should have a month or two until she was due to give birth, although she was becoming quite heavy with the child, and to Jane it seemed that her stomach had dropped rather low.
“Are you feeling any pain?” she asked, to which Mary bit her lip.
“Somewhat,” she said.
“Cramping pains?” Jane asked, and Mary tilted her head as she hesitated.
“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest, Jane,” she said. “I’ve felt so sick for so long that I hardly know how I feel anymore. I am nauseous, as always, but there is a… heaviness, I suppose you could say.”
“I see,” Jane said, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn’t sure whether Mary was going to be having her baby today or in a week or two, but it seemed that her body was beginning to prepare for the event — likely sooner than Mary or Jane would have hoped. She would tell her sister once she was sure — but for now, she would avoid worrying her. “I’ll prepare some broth for you, Mary. It will help you feel better. This should pass. I don’t think there is much to worry about.”
“Except that it is Christmas! It is one of the greatest celebrations of the whole year, Jane. What am I going to do? I’ll be expected to be at the church, and then here to host all of Billy’s family, not to mention all of the preparations that are required for dinner.”
“There is nothing to worry about,” Jane said firmly, placing her hands over Mary’s. “That is why I’m here — to keep you from overtaxing yourself. I will take care of you — and Billy’s family.”
And she would forget Duncan McDougall for the time being — at least until Mary had the baby. She couldn’t deny that their coming together had been one of the most amazing events to ever happen to her; and yet, it had also caused her to be distracted from what really mattered — Mary’s wellbeing. What if Mary had gone into labor or had complications that had led to something happening to the baby — or worse yet, to Mary — all because Jane had been absent, caught up in her own love affair?
On her way to the kitchen, she checked her bedroom to see if Duncan was still within, but he was gone, the only trace of him the mussed-up sheets he had left behind.
* * *
Duncan hadn’t been able to sleep again, so despite his exhaustion, he was sitting in the festive drawing room with a cup of coffee in hand when Billy came down the stairs, looking rather tired himself.
“Morning,” Duncan said from the corner, and Billy responded with a nod.
“Happy Christmas.”
“I am told that today is a big day for you,” Duncan said as Billy began to fasten the buttons on his jacket.
“Nothing else compares but Easter,” Billy said, moving onto his cuffs. “Although there is something about Christmas…” He trailed off, as though he expected Duncan to know what he meant.
“And that is?” Duncan questioned, having never much celebrated Christmas before.
“I suppose there’s a magic to it,” Billy said with a self-conscious smile as he poured his own coffee, prepared by Abigail, the one maid they employed. “Will you come to the church service?”
“No,” Duncan said abruptly, knowing that Billy wouldn’t be pleased with his answer but unable to respond any differently. He had never been one to attend church before. It always reminded him of all of his sins and that he had far to go to become a man that God would ever entertain hosting following this life. He wasn’t about to start attending now.
“You should consider it,” Billy said lightly. “Listen, Duncan… I must spend all of today at the church, and I was wondering if you could look out for Mary? I know Jane is here, but Mary… she’s not well, and I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong. Would you do that?”
His eyes were squinted as though it pained him to ask, which made sense considering all of the background between them. But even Duncan couldn’t resist the plea to look after a pregnant woman.
“Of course,” he said. “Besides, I’ve not much else to do.”
“Did you find a gift for Jane?” Billy asked, sitting down across from Duncan, who looked beside him at the object sitting on the side table.
“I’m working on it.”
“Good,” Billy said, drumming the fingertips of his free hand on his knee. “Well, I best be off. If you need me, the church isn’t far.”
“Very well.”
“Oh, and Duncan?”
“Yes?”
“My family will be arriving after the church service. They are coming to help — with the pudding, the mulled wine, the mince pies, and all that. Their intentions are good, but as you are aware, there are many of them, and they can be rather—”
“Overwhelming?” Duncan supplied drolly, and Billy pointed a finger at him.
“Exactly,” he said. “I wish you the best of luck.”
Duncan could only sigh as Billy left, wishing dearly for his quiet study and peaceful hills at home at Galbury Castle. Soon enough, he told himself, momentarily guilty for the thought, for he knew that Mary wasn’t due to birth her baby for some time. He just had to get through Christmas, and then all would be well. One more day.
In the meantime, he could hardly wait to see Jane again. He peeked beside him at the wooden carving he had been working on, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it quite right. Something was missing, and he wasn’t sure how to bring it together.
* * *
Jane was frazzled. She knew Billy’s family would be arriving in a few short hours, but there was much to do before then. Mary’s maid would be attending church, but Jane would stay in order to be with Mary — she was certainly not leaving her alone.
She had tidied her own room before anyone discovered evidence of the night before and had just finished donning an old work frock to wear for preparations around the house when she sensed a presence in the doorway and looked up, aghast to find Mary standing there dressed in a very full yet very beautiful navy gown.
“Mary!” Jane exclaimed, as her sister was visibly leaning on the doorframe for support. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I’m going to church,” Mary said, her face set in determination, and Jane was already shaking her head.
“You absolutely are not.”
“I’m the vicar’s wife!” Mary exclaimed. “I must be present.”
“Mary,” Jane said as diplomatically as she could, “I am sure that all will understand that in your condition—”
“I have been in this condition for months now,” Mary said. “And the church isn’t far if I am going to be sick.”
Or if she was going to give birth, Jane thought, although she didn’t voice the words. Not yet.
“How are you feeling?”
“Just fine,” Mary said, pushing off the doorframe and placing her hands on her hips. “Never better.”
“Mm…hm,” Jane said, looking Mary over, although she sensed that this was a battle she was not going to win. “Very well,” she sighed. “We shall go, but if anything is amiss, we are leaving, no matter where we are in the mass. Is that fair?”
Mary smiled faintly. “Of course.”
Time to change.
* * *
Duncan was not particularly well-versed in ladies’ fashion, but he would have considered that Jane looked quite fine in whatever she wore, although she typically favored plain gowns without much of the shape or adornments he saw on many of the Englishwomen.
When he heard her step on the stair, however, he looked up from his seat and his jaw dropped open. She was wearing a plaid skirt, a linen shirt, and a vest laced up in the front. Her hair was parted in the center, but braided on each side, coming together in coils at the bottom, where they wrapped around one another. He had never been as stunned by her as he was at that moment.
She looked like a Highland queen — his queen.
He stood up at attention to greet her as she descended the staircase. He reached out a hand, ready to tell her how beautiful she looked, but her eyes were full of concern and her words were as stilted and practical as they had ever been.
“Mary is determined to attend the mass this morning,” she said, her jaw set in such a way that it was obvious Jane was not particularly pleased with this plan. “However,” she lowered her voice, “she is not well. I agreed to attend with her, but told her we will leave at the soonest sign of any pain. Will you come with us in case anything happens?”
Duncan hesitated. He had no intentions of attending, but he also wasn’t sure how he could deny Jane — of this, or anything else.
“Please?” she added, which ended any of his remaining internal argument.
“Very well,” he said. “When are we leaving?”
“Soon,” she said firmly. “You look fine as you are. No need to change.”
“Are we walking?”
“Aye,” she said. “The church isn’t far. It’s closer than the livery.”
Duncan nodded, eyeing Jane critically and sensing something was amiss.
“Jane, is everything all right?” he asked quietly. “Are you all right? After—”
“I’m fine,” she said with a smile he was well aware was forced. “Never better. We best go.”
Then she turned around and started up the stairs, leaving Duncan scratching his head, an odd ache in his chest.
She meant more to him than any woman ever had and likely ever would. Here he was, thinking of marriage after knowing her for just over a week. While she, however, did not seem affected in the least. Did last night mean nothing more to her than a chance experience?
She hadn’t used him for their sexual encounter — had she? If she had… well, Duncan deserved it, for he had done so enough times in his own years. But Jane had so much goodness within her, he was sure that wasn’t the case.
If it was, he had no idea just what he was going to do.
Chapter 12
Jane was well aware that Duncan was uneasy. She just wasn’t sure if it was due to his attendance at a Christmas service, or to his reaction to her. She was aware that he had wanted to talk to her, and that conversation would be had — just not at the moment. There was too much else on her mind for her to properly decide if what she felt for Duncan was enough to overcome the fact that not only had he originally been betrothed to her sister, but that he was not the most temperate of men. He was surly, obstinate, and gruff. He was also determined to get his way, and had no issue in providing his opinion — even when it was not requested and certainly not necessary.
And yet, she had more feelings for him than she had ever had for another, and she wasn’t sure how to keep herself away — or if she even should.
But today was Christmas, Mary was due to have the baby soon, and the entire Miller family was set to arrive shortly after the church service.
Duncan would have to wait.
Their progress to the church had been slow — Jane on one side of Mary, Duncan on the other. She had taken one step after the other with more determination than Jane had ever seen her approach something before.
Snow had started to fall once more, and Jane kept her eyes on the road before them to make sure they didn’t hit any icy patches, although she would have preferred to enjoy the view before them, of the quaint little houses with their light dusting of snow.
Mary and her obstinance. She was so concerned about what her husband’s parishioners might think that she was risking her health — and that of her baby.
Jane tried to catch Duncan’s eye, but he, too, was looking straight ahead with concern.
They finally made it to the little chapel, Duncan holding the door open for them as they entered. Jane’s arm brushed against him as she walked by, and even through all of their layers of clothes, a little tingle of awareness shot through her from where they had touched.
Parishioners turned and greeted them as they entered, with an affectionate welcome for Mary and more than one curious glance toward Duncan. He walked stiffly beside them to the front of the church, obviously not at all at ease within the surroundings.
Despite her concern for her sister, Jane was overcome with the warm comfort that radiated throughout the church. Much like Billy and Mary’s home, greenery that looked like evergreen boughs and holly was spread over railings, the altar, and wall sconces, which, along with the candles, lined the church, casting a warm glow along with the light that shone through the small windows in a row at the top.
And righ
t in front of their pew, beside the corner fireplace, was a nativity scene, with painted wooden figures laid out on the straw.
Barn animals, wisemen, and shepherds surrounded Mary and Joseph, who were crouched over a little manger holding the baby Jesus.
“Duncan,” Jane breathed, “Isn’t it beautiful?”
He nodded, but was looking around the church, his challenging gaze meeting all of those who stared upon him, and Jane sighed. She understood his reluctance, but how to convince him that these people were only curious about who he was and what he was doing here?
“I thought we were going to sit at the back,” was all he muttered, and Jane shrugged.
She had been unable to convince Mary otherwise. She looked over at her sister, who was currently sucking in air through her nose and then blowing it out through her mouth as Jane had taught her to attempt to ease the nausea. Jane reached into her pocket and withdrew a vial of peppermint oil. She passed it to Mary who held it under her nose, inhaling deeply before sending Jane a smile of thanks.
Jane felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to find Nick and the rest of the Miller family had filled the pew behind them. She greeted them all, as did Mary, before the organist struck her first note and the small church was filled with voices singing a song celebrating the birth of Christ. As Billy stepped up to the pulpit, he sent a surprised look their way before tenderly smiling at Mary, and suddenly Jane realized just why Mary had been so determined to attend. She had thought her sister had wanted to keep up appearances, but that wasn’t it at all. She had simply wanted to support her husband.
Shame at her thoughts washed over Jane, and she reached beside her and squeezed Mary’s hand in a silent apology as she opened her mouth and joined in the song.
Jane didn’t pay as much attention to the entirety of the service as she should have, for she was too focused on ensuring that all was well with Mary. After her initial bout of nausea, she seemed much better, and continued to look up at her husband with adoring eyes. Jane turned to Duncan, finding that he was still sitting as stiff as could be, his fingertips tapping against his knee in what Jane had come to recognize as a fit of nerves.
Duncan’s Christmas: The Victorian Highlanders Prequel Page 8
