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 right 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.
She reached out and placed her hand overtop of his to halt the restlessness, and he looked over at her with some reproach.
“Am I bothering you?” he whispered, and Jane shook her head.
“No,” she said softly, biting her lip, wondering why he was being so defensive. “I just wish that you were able to relax.”
“I’m fine,” he said, his words short. “Don’t worry about me.”
But Jane was worried. Now between Duncan, her sister, and the preparations to come for that evening’s dinner, she had lost all concentration. The spirit that had filled her when she entered the church had fled, leaving her with some panic in her belly, and suddenly she needed to be out of the church and into the open air with an intensity she could hardly stifle.
While she would never, ever, have wished any ill on Mary, her sister provided her with the perfect excuse.
“Jane.” Mary clutched the sleeve of her linen shirt. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Jane didn’t waste any time confirming with Mary or asking any further questions. Instead, she murmured the news to Duncan and then took her sister’s elbow, escorting her out of the pew, down the aisle, and through the church.
They made it just in time, as Mary was sick on the snow just beyond the steps.
“Good timing,” Jane said just as Duncan pushed through the doors and followed them out.
“Best we go home,” he said, looking around. “The snow is starting to fall in earnest. Wouldn’t like you to have to walk through anything worse than this.”
Mary nodded uncharacteristically meekly, worrying Jane, for Mary never agreed to do as she was told.
Fortunately, she was able to make it home, where she collapsed on the sofa in the drawing room.
“Should you not go upstairs?” Jane asked with a wince, but Mary was already shaking her head.
“Absolutely not,” she answered. “There is much to do.”
“None of which you are currently capable of doing,” Jane said, to which Mary smiled.
“No, but I have you. I will simply… make suggestions.”
Oh dear. Jane knew what Mary’s suggestions meant.
“More like orders,” she murmured to Duncan as she brushed past him and into the kitchen. He followed her in.
“Jane,” he began, but she had no time to speak of things with him, as much as she would like to. She had a list as long as her arm, and she needed to finish it.
“Will you please check the pudding?” she asked, pointing to the pot in the corner, and he looked at her somewhat quizzically before walking over and lifting the lid.
“It smells good,” he said with a shrug. “Looks like a big bun but smells much spicier.” Jane placed her hands on her hips.
“I think that’s good. I cannot say I have ever prepared nor eaten Christmas pudding before. Billy’s mother made it. Now we have to place it in beef broth.”
Duncan looked at her with concern. “The pudding?”
“I am told that is the way of it,” Jane said with a shrug. “And the mince pies?”
“I have no idea what a mince pie is.”
Jane sighed. “You’re not much help.”
“Billy said his family was going to come assist with everything. You don’t need to do all your sister tells you.”
At that point Mary called from the drawing room, “Jane! We must ensure the table linens are out and the table set before Billy’s family arrives. They will be here any minute!”
Duncan eyed her with a look. “You are not the servant here, you know. Where is the maid?”
“At church.”
“You’re here for your sister’s health, Jane, not to host her husband’s entire family for dinner.”