Duncan looked from Jane to Mary, before the two sisters both raised their hands to him, Mary with hostility and Jane with hesitation. Duncan could do nothing but take them both. Mary’s hand was dry, her fingers cold, while Jane’s long fingers were warm within his, and curled around his palm in such a way that he almost thought they were curling around his heart.
Which was ludicrous.
He had never heard the prayer before, and when he looked up at the others with their bowed heads, he saw that Jane also didn’t seem to be familiar with it, for she kept her lips pressed together, her eyes closed as well.
Finished, Billy sat back, tucked a napkin into his collar, picked up his fork and knife, and began to eat. Duncan saw Jane and Mary exchange a look, however, as though there was no such way they could similarly begin their dinner before they addressed all that was weighing between them.
Tense silence filled the room, and when Duncan finally cleared his throat, he saw Jane jump at the noise.
“So, Duncan,” Mary began before he could say anything, and he sighed inwardly. Mary had always been one of the most forthright women — nay, make that people — he had ever met. Although now, a tired air masked her countenance. “Jane tells me that you came to London in order to return me home.”
Duncan looked over at Jane, who didn’t meet his eyes, but instead looked down at her plate. He smiled somewhat bitterly.
“I did,” he said, placing his fork down on the table, suddenly lacking an appetite. “But from what Jane tells me, my efforts are in vain.”
“Yes, of course,” she said with a nod. “But even if I was not married and expecting, do tell me, Duncan, why would you presume that I would ever want to go home with you? I came all the way to London for a reason. For that matter, why would you want a woman who does not want you?”
Duncan bristled at her words, for they reduced him to nothing more than a lovesick young pup, which he most certainly was not.
“I did not come to retrieve you for myself,” he said, straightening his spine. “I came at your father’s behest.”
“My father’s?” she repeated, raising her eyebrows.
“Aye.” He nodded. “You have no brothers, and I didn’t think your father should be making the journey all the way to London. I promised to see this through for him.”
Mary scoffed. “The Scottish pride. Do not all of you consider that part of the reason I welcomed the opportunity to live in London — with Billy—” Billy nodded his head and waved his hand at her, “was because I desired to get away from the life I was living? You arrogant Highlanders are always on about your honor, when your honor is nothing more than foolish arrogance.”
“Mary,” Jane cut in softly, “I don’t know that you need to—”
“I do,” Mary said before turning back to Duncan. “I should have broken things off with you before running away, but Duncan, there was nothing to break off. You and I had nothing more than an arrangement which our fathers agreed to years ago. The two of us hardly knew one another, and it would never have worked between us. It is better that I left.”
“Perhaps,” Duncan agreed, and Mary opened her mouth as though to argue but then closed it again.
“Pardon me?”
“I said, perhaps you are right.”
And she was. Mary was far too brash and a touch conceited. Oh, she had her good qualities as well — clearly, for Jane appeared to love her more than anyone — but she and Duncan would have spent their lives at one another’s throats. She had a point — he was mostly insulted that she had chosen another over him.
“Oh,” Mary said, sitting back, exchanging glances with her husband, who smiled wryly. “I see. Will you be returning to Scotland soon, then?” she asked, and now it was Jane’s turn to look at him imploringly, as though she hoped that his mind had changed since arriving at Mary and Billy’s house.
“No,” he said, his lips curling at Mary’s look of surprise. Even Billy looked up from his food. “I am staying until Jane is ready to return.”
“But—” Mary began, looking from Jane to Duncan and back to Jane. “Jane, you said you would stay until the baby comes, and that is at least another month or two!”
“I will, Mary, not to worry,” Jane said, reaching out to place a hand overtop of Mary’s.
“But then why did Duncan say—”
“I suppose I will be staying until the bairn comes as well,” he said with a great exhale as Mary’s eyes widened ever further.
“Where shall you stay?” she asked, looking around as though she would be able to find a place for him in this very dining room.
“Well—”
“I’m assuming McDougall here is hoping to stay with us,” Billy said, eyeing Duncan from across the table. “Is that not right?”
A pit of unease began to form in Duncan’s stomach. He wasn’t enjoying any aspect of this entire situation, least of all the thought of staying with his former betrothed and her husband. And then there was Jane. He glanced over at her, and she met his gaze with equal, steady resolve in her blue eyes.
“Aye,” Duncan grunted, although he kept his eyes on Jane instead of his host. “If ye have a spare bed, I would most appreciate it.”
He only hoped Jane would come to her senses sooner rather than later.
Jane had never spent a more uncomfortable dinner in her life. It didn’t help to realize that there would be many more of these in her near future.
“So, Billy — can I call you Billy?” Duncan asked, apparently much more at ease now that the formalities of his stay had been taken care of. “You are a vicar, then?”
“At St. Anthony’s. I’m sure you saw it on your arrival,” Billy said. “You could call me Father Bill.”
“I could,” Duncan said, but his forced grin told Jane that he was going to do as he pleased.
“Since you will be here over the Christmas season,” Billy said, his own smile now causing Jane to suspect he was going to best Duncan, which would certainly not go over well, “I could use a hand around here.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, as you Scots would say,” Billy said, the sides of his moustaches quirking up. “There is much to be done. We must find the Yule log, hunt for the Christmas tree, string up the decorations, and cook a feast for my family.”
“Your family comes?” Duncan said, and Jane was about to laugh until he took on an ill look.
“Oh, yes,” Billy said. “There’s a whole lot of them. My mother of course, and then my brothers and sisters and their spouses and children, my sister and her son, not to mention aunts, uncles, cousins… no one enjoys Christmas as much as the Miller family.”
“Wonderful,” Duncan said wryly, catching Jane’s eye, and she heard him mutter something about an “abundance of English.” Mary obviously heard it as well, for she glared at him, while Jane coughed in order to cover her laugh.
Duncan grinned at her, and she shook her head to discourage such behaviour, although she had to admit that Billy, while seemingly perfect for Mary, was rather difficult to take after a time. He had this self-righteousness that was, Jane could admit, a bit hypocritical when he had run off with a woman who had been pledged to another man. Even if that woman had no intention of wedding her first betrothed.