Christmas With His Wallflower Wife

And Jane loved horses as much as he did—he was sure she would be as happy at Foxbourne as he was.

It would be a better start than many couples experienced.

Jane must have slept right through to the next morning because she vaguely recalled waking at one point to find it was night-time, but now, as she propped herself up on her elbows, she could see daylight limning the curtains. Memories of the previous day loomed—Pikeford following her, his attack, his strength…so much more than she could have imagined. It was frighteningly impossible to fight him off and then, just as she despaired of ever stopping him, Alex had rescued her.

She flopped back on to the mattress, biting her lip against the hot sting of tears. How long had she dreamed of him seeing her as someone other than simply good old Janey, the girl next door? How many years had she fed her fantasies with images of him realising, at last, that he loved her…proposing to her…?

But not like this. Never like this!

Sick dread clogged her throat. She was in an impossible situation. If she protected Alex against his spontaneous, quixotic gesture then she must go home, to the stepmother who would not hesitate to marry her off to Sir Denzil Pikeford. And he would be perfectly willing…

She shuddered, rolling on to her side, curling into a ball, her arms wrapped around her torso. She would die rather than end up as Pikeford’s wife. Her stomach roiled in disgust.

I cannot lie here for ever. I must face this some time.

She forced herself to rise, crossing to the window and pulling back the curtains. It was early, the sun still low in the sky. A movement caught her eye and she saw a curricle with two male occupants heading away from the Abbey. She couldn’t be sure, but she suspected the passenger was Alex and she recognised Dominic’s matched bays. She frowned. Where were they off to so early? Would Alex leave in order to avoid her? He had run away rather than face unpleasant consequences when he was younger, but she couldn’t believe Dominic would aid and abet him.

There’s only one way to find out.

After dressing—a trunk containing her belongings had appeared as if by magic at the foot of her bed—she ventured downstairs only to find it was too early for the rest of the family to be up and about. She refused breakfast, too embarrassed to eat when none of the family was present. Ignoring her growling stomach, she selected a book from the library and settled in an armchair to pass the time until someone else appeared.

That someone, to her dismay, was the Duke of Cheriton. Jane shot to her feet, nerves churning her stomach. The Duke had never been anything but courteous to her, but he was a formidable and powerful man and some of Alex’s feelings about his father had inevitably rubbed off on her over the years.

‘Good morning, Jane.’ The Duke gestured, indicating she should sit again. She perched on the edge of the chair. ‘Grantham said I would find you in here. Are you well rested?’

‘Yes, thank you, Your Grace.’

He pulled another chair across to sit opposite. ‘You have a bruise on your face, I see. Did Pikeford injure you anywhere else?’

Jane shook her head, mortified at talking of such matters, nervy at being the sole focus of the Duke’s attention.

His eyes narrowed and a groove appeared between his black brows. ‘Unfortunately neither the Duchess nor my sister are awake, but I can send for a maid if you are uncomfortable being here alone with me.’

Her face flamed. How rude he must think her, when she had known him all her life.

‘It is understandable you are still shaken after the events of yesterday.’ He went to the door. She heard a murmur of voices, then he returned to sit again.

‘I—I thought I saw Alex leaving,’ Jane said.

A smile crinkled the Duke’s eyes. ‘He has not run off, you know. He outgrew that tendency a few years ago, I’m pleased to say. Dominic is driving him to Exeter, to obtain a marriage licence.’

She struggled to meet his gaze. But she must say this…she couldn’t allow Alex to sacrifice himself for her. ‘I will not hold him to his promise, Your Grace. I could not forgive myself if Alex married me only to regret it. Please. Can you tell him he need not marry me?’

‘I have told him already and—’

He fell silent as the door opened and Jane breathed a sigh of relief when Olivia, her old friend and only eight months older than Jane, entered.

‘Grantham said you needed me in here, Papa. Good morning, Jane.’

Olivia smiled, pulling a footstool over to sit close to Jane. She clasped her hand.

‘Thank you, Livvy. Now, as I was about to say, Jane…Alex understands very well he is under no obligation to marry you and that, if he chooses not to proceed, I shall ensure you never have to return to your father’s house. But I want you to understand—this offer I am about to make is for your benefit, Jane. Not Alexander’s.’ The Duke rose and crossed to the window, where the early morning sun lit his face, highlighting the silvering at his temples and the lines of stress around his eyes and mouth. ‘You have known my son all your life and you know he is not always an easy man. My fear is that if he feels constrained to go ahead with your union—even by his own decision—then, later, he may well rebel against it. And you would bear the brunt of his resentment.

‘You deserve to be happy in your marriage, Jane, and that is why I sought you out this morning…to make you the same offer I made to Alex. There is a third way and you may trust me when I say I shall find a way for you to be safe from both your stepmother and Pikeford.’

He returned to his chair, his silver-grey gaze on Jane’s face. She swallowed. She should grab his offer with both hands. For Alex’s sake. But the Duchess’s words resounded in her head, keeping her silent. Alex did need a friend…not the friends with whom he spent his time on the town, but someone who would be there for him, day after day. Night after night. Someone to provide him with a safe anchor during those times the past came back to haunt him. Because haunt him it did. They all knew it. But no one had ever found the way to help him come to terms with the day he had discovered his mother’s violated body.

And Jane, God help her, wanted to be that friend to him. If…

‘What was Alex’s answer to your offer, sir?’

The Duke exchanged a wry smile with his daughter. ‘He threw it right back in my face and left for Exeter at first light. I believe his exact words were, “You cannot manipulate us to your bidding like you manipulate everyone else”.’

Jane gasped and sympathy for the Duke buried her earlier nervousness. ‘I am sorry. I don’t understand—’

Olivia moved to perch on the arm of Jane’s chair and hugged her. ‘None of us understands my brother, Jane—there’s no need for you to apologise for him. But you do need to think carefully about what you want. Papa will help you find a decent husband, if you decide against marrying Alex, and you mustn’t be afraid the rest of us will hold it against you. You will still be our dear friend, whatever you decide.’

‘Thank you, Livvy. That means a lot.’ Jane pulled away from her friend’s embrace, and stood up to face Alex’s father. ‘And thank you for your offer, Your Grace. I do appreciate it. But…as long as Alex does not change his mind and is still prepared to go ahead, I choose to marry Alex. I—I hope you do not mind? I—I…’ She hauled in a breath. ‘I cannot quite explain it, but…it feels right.’ She laid her hand against her chest. ‘In here. It feels right.’

Hot embarrassment flooded her. That was as good as a confession that she loved Alex, but she wanted to soothe any misgivings either the Duke or Olivia had about this marriage.

‘I do not mind at all, Jane. In fact, I am delighted,’ said the Duke. ‘As I hope I made clear, my intervention was not due to any objection to either you or to the match, but merely to reassure you both that you need not feel trapped by what occurred yesterday.’

‘And I say you are a brave woman to take Alex on,’ said Olivia. ‘But you know what he is like and you have always been friends. Perhaps you are just what he needs.’

She hugged Jane, and kissed her cheek. ‘Welcome to the Beauchamp family.’

Chapter Four

Preparations for the wedding gained momentum throughout the day and Jane allowed herself to be swept along despite the unease that writhed in her stomach like a restless snake. She needed to speak to Alex. It was all very well the family assuming the matter was irrevocably settled but what if, now he’d had time to think, Alex had changed his mind?

All the frenetic activity infected the Beauchamps’ dogs: the Duchess’s wolfhound, Hector, Myrtle, a three-legged, bull-baiting type of terrier belonging to Mr Graystoke, and Liberty’s Romeo. The three of them became increasingly excited, chasing one another around the house, in and out of the rooms, until Romeo darted in front of a footman carrying a tray of china and he went flying. The resulting crash brought everyone running.

‘This is outside of enough!’ The Duchess, her hair awry, shooed the dogs outside. ‘The doors are to be kept shut and woe betide anyone who lets those animals back inside!’

Even that added to Jane’s guilt. The entire household had been set on its ears just because she had foolishly decided to go for a walk alone.

The day wore on and, in the late afternoon, Jane found herself helping Alex’s two aunts, Lady Cecily and Thea, Lady Vernon, to arrange flowers in three matching lead-crystal cut-glass vases to decorate the hall.

‘These vases were made by Stour Crystal,’ Lady Vernon said, her pride clear.

Jane knew Lord Vernon’s wife came from a family of Worcestershire glassmakers. ‘Is that your father’s manufactory?’

‘It is. Well, it belongs to my brother now. Papa died two years ago.’

‘I am sorry to hear that…but you must be very proud. These are beautiful.’

‘They are, aren’t they? And yes, I…’

Her voice drifted into silence as the front door flew open and Alex and Dominic bowled in, laughing, the three banished dogs at their heels. Jane stilled, nerves erupting.

‘Please leave the dogs outside,’ Lady Cecily said to her nephews. ‘Rosalind’s orders. They are overexcited and have been causing mayhem, with everyone so busy. You’re fortunate to have missed the worst of the chaos.’

She looked from Jane to Alex. ‘Dominic?’

‘Yes, Aunt Cecily?’

‘Thea and I would appreciate your opinion on the seating arrangements if you will come to the dining room?’

The three disappeared, leaving Jane facing Alex, anxiety churning her stomach.

‘Well, Honeybee, and how are you today?’

Honeybee…the affectionate nickname he had given her when, as a child, she was for ever buzzing around, like a bee around a flower. He sauntered over to the table and picked up one of the lilies still to be placed in the vases.

‘I am well, thank you, Alex. You…you’ve been gone a long time.’

‘Oh, I got the licence, all right and tight, if that’s been plaguing you,’ he said. ‘But I must ask you—’

His jaw snapped shut as the Duke and Duchess came into the hall together and Jane’s heart sank, knowing Alex wouldn’t continue with his father present.

‘Alex. You’re back,’ said the Duke.

‘As you see.’ Alex replaced the lily on the table, its petals now mangled, and withdrew a document from his pocket. ‘With the licence.’

‘So, you still wish to proceed?’

‘Of course!’ Alex took Jane’s hand. ‘As long as you aren’t about to back out on me, Janey?’

She shook her head. Alex grinned, only slightly settling her nerves. She couldn’t help but wonder exactly what was going on inside his head.

‘We’ll leave you in peace.’ The Duchess linked her arm through her husband’s and they disappeared into the drawing room.

‘Sorry about that flower.’ Alex nudged the stem of the lily he had destroyed. ‘Shall I go and cut you another?’

‘No. We already had more than sufficient. But thank you.’

He grinned again, flicked her nose and headed for the staircase. ‘I must change my coat and boots. I’ll see you later, Janey.’

‘What was it you wanted to ask me, Alex? Before your father came in?’

He paused, then turned back to her. ‘I just wanted to know if you have everything you need.’

‘Yes, thank you.’

She doubted that had been his original question. She watched him bound up the stairs, hope and dread warring in her breast as she wondered what their future held.

Alex stood in the local church the next morning at eleven, waiting for his bride. He stared at the floor, Dominic by his side, still torn by what was about to happen. Every time his doubts had edged him close to backing out of this marriage, his father had said something that made him leap straight back into those slowly closing leg shackles. And besides…there was Jane to think about. Now she’d been compromised—and the whispers had already started—she must marry someone and quickly. And Alex could not condemn her to marriage with a stranger. That same boyhood instinct to protect her that had spurred him into that rash proposal made sure of that.

‘This takes me back,’ Dominic whispered. ‘Waiting at the altar, fretting that Liberty might not show up, but mark my words…’ he gripped Alex’s shoulder, and squeezed it ‘…all your worry will fly away as soon as you set eyes on her.’

Except Dominic married Liberty for love.

Alex half-turned, eyeing the members of his family, sitting in the pews, waiting to witness his marriage to his childhood friend. The only one missing was Olivia, who was attending the bride. Lord Hugo Alastair, her husband, had his hands full coping with their two-year-old twins, Julius and Daisy, helped by Liberty. Alex’s father and stepmother were there, with three-year-old Christabel and two-year-old Sebastian—his young half-sister and half-brother—and Susie, their adopted daughter. Further back were Uncle Vernon and Aunt Thea, with their three—Thomas, four, Sophie, two, and one-year-old George—and Aunt Cecily and Zach with three-year-old Florence.

Every one of them had married for love. But Alex, yet again, would be different.

Apart. Alone. Always the outsider.

Except you’ll never be alone again. You’ll have Jane.

And a whisper of…was that hope?…stirred in his heart. He forced down the doubts that clogged his throat, longing for that whisper of hope to be true.

The organ music changed and Alex turned to watch his bride walk up the aisle. Another lump filled his throat…not doubts this time, but concern. She looked desperately uncertain. A wave of protectiveness washed through him. Filled him. She was his responsibility now…her happiness depended on him and he would do all he could to stop her regretting their marriage.

Her gown was beautiful: peach-coloured silk that hugged her slim figure and complemented her mass of shiny conker-brown hair, held back with combs and interwoven with delicate white jasmine flowers, leaving loose tresses to wave down her back—and it was almost as though he were looking at her for the first time, which was absurd because he’d known her for ever. She was two years younger than him, his neighbour and his childhood playmate…he’d known her all her life. Taught her to ride. Led her into plenty of scrapes. And yet, here…now…he seemed to really see her. As his friend, Jane, yes…but also as a woman. An attractive woman. Not beautiful, maybe, but her figure was…mouth-watering.

And then all thought and conjecture ceased because she had reached his side and he turned to face the Reverend Padstow, his bride by his side, her sleeve brushing his.

Afterwards, he endured the congratulations and the backslapping outside the church, plastering a smile on his face. He felt like public property. This day couldn’t be over soon enough for him. But he kept Jane close by his side, his hand resting at the small of her back. She was part of him now. They were a partnership. She was his wife. And when her father, stepmother and half-sisters approached and he felt her tense, he slid his arm around her waist and held her even closer.

‘Well, Jane. This is a happy day indeed.’ Lord Stowford thrust out his hand. ‘You are a very welcome addition to our family, Alexander. You must visit us whenever you choose.’

Alex ignored the hand and inclined his head. ‘I rarely visit Devonshire these days, sir, so you need not fear we will darken your doorstop with any regularity.’

We’ll visit you over my dead body.

But it was his wedding day. He was the bridegroom. He must be polite to the guests, even when every nerve in his body craved solitude.

He nodded coolly at Lady Stowford and her daughters, and said to Jane, ‘Come, my dear. Our wedding breakfast awaits and our guests must be hungry.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered as they walked to the carriage waiting to drive them back to the Abbey. Alex handed Jane in and then collapsed on to the seat beside her, shutting his eyes.

‘Are you finding this very trying, Alex?’

He cranked his eyelids open to find her watching him, her eyes filled with concern. They were lovely eyes, now he came to study them properly. Warm brown and thickly lashed and full not only of concern, but of kindness and understanding. And wasn’t that typical of Jane? All her worry was for him. Even on her wedding day.

‘A bit,’ he replied.

He straightened. They would be home shortly…except he never thought of it as home any more. Foxbourne was his home now and had been for close on five years. His father had bought the estate, together with its breeding stock, five years before. Alex moved in later that year and, two years later—once he proved he could be trusted to run the place—his father signed it over to him. He loved Foxbourne and he couldn’t wait to return. To go home.

He laid his hand against Jane’s cheek, registering the softness of her skin.

‘Shall you object if we leave here tomorrow? I cannot wait to show you Foxbourne Manor, although I fear it lacks a woman’s touch at the moment.’

They would need more indoor staff—he’d led a bachelor’s life until now, cared for by only his man, Drabble, and Mr and Mrs Kent, who ran the house.

‘I have often longed to run my own household.’ Her eyes glowed. ‘And I cannot wait to settle into my new home, so I’m happy for us to leave tomorrow.’ She smiled, then, and raised her eyebrows. ‘And I know you well enough to know you’ll be itching to leave here as soon as possible.’

He laughed. ‘That I am.’ He slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. ‘You are a brave woman, taking me on when you know what a moody wretch I can be at times.’

He kissed her cheek and the delicate scent of jasmine wreathed through his senses. Desire sparked through his veins, surprising him.

‘Well—’ Jane pulled back, capturing his gaze with a teasing smile ‘—in a straight choice between you and Pikeford I thought black moods a touch easier to cope with than drunkenness and r-r-r…’

Her lips quivered and his heart cracked. He pulled her close, nestled her head to his shoulder. ‘Don’t, Honeybee. Don’t try to be brave and pretend it was nothing.’

She stayed there, trembling, for a few minutes. Then the carriage started to slow and she pulled away from him. Brushed a finger beneath each eye in turn and gave a tiny sniff. Alex handed her his handkerchief without a word.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

They both put on a decent show, Jane probably more successfully than him. To watch her you would never believe anything troubled her, but Alex saw the effort she was making all through that day.

Her family left early—to everyone’s relief—and, watching Jane with the Beauchamps afterwards, Alex could see she would fit right in. And why shouldn’t she, when she had known them for so long they were like a second family to her?

He watched over her, alert for any hint of distress. None came. And, through the day, Aunt Cecily, too, kept her eye on Jane and often drew her into conversations.

‘She will need your patience, Alex.’

Zach joined Alex as the family gathered in the drawing room after dinner that evening.

‘I am aware of it.’

Zach turned his dark gaze on Alex. ‘She is a woman who was born to lavish care on those around her and she will thrive, given love and care in return. You are a lucky man. I feel you will be good for one another, but do not be surprised if the path is bumpy in the beginning.’

Alex couldn’t help grinning. ‘Is that your Romany half talking, Zach?’

Zach smiled. ‘Perhaps.’ He bent to fondle Myrtle’s ears. She rarely left his side. ‘Or maybe it’s more that I know human nature and I know you, Alex.’

Alex sobered. Zach was right. He did know Alex—as well as, if not better than, any other member of the family. Their mutual love for and understanding of horses had fostered their friendship and respect. The rest of the family were talented horse riders, but they did not share that natural feel for troubled animals, and for horses in particular, that Alex and Zach had in common. Edgecombe, Zach’s estate in Hertfordshire, was less than thirty miles from Foxbourne and Zach regularly helped Alex with some of the challenging animals he was sent to ‘cure’.

‘I know it won’t be easy.’ He would need patience with Jane, but he suspected she would need even more with him. ‘But I’m determined to be the good husband she deserves. We’ve always been friends. It is a good place to start.’

‘Indeed it is.’

Alex noticed his father casting occasional pensive glances at him and Zach as they talked and his stomach clenched, aware Father wanted nothing more than to be as close to Alex as he was to Dominic. He turned away, allowing that same unhappy, unsettling mix of resentment and regret to subside. Why did he always feel that way? The rest of the family loved his father unequivocally and Alex—when he viewed him objectively—saw he was a good man. A good husband. A good father. A good employer. But no matter how he tried to overcome his unreasonable distrust with logic, his emotions always won.

He scanned the room for Jane. She sat with Aunt Thea, their heads together, chatting animatedly—well, Aunt Thea was always a veritable bundle of energy—and he wondered, for the first time, if his new wife might help him to change. Could he change? Was it possible? Could he, as he longed to do, learn to love his father unconditionally?

That thought unsettled him even more. Maybe he could, in time. But not yet. Now, all he wanted was to leave the Abbey and to return to Foxbourne, where it was safe. He no longer questioned that feeling of insecurity that assailed him at the Abbey. It simply was. It was how he had always felt.

‘We are leaving tomorrow,’ he said now to Zach.

Zach raised one dark brow. ‘That is a pity when you have just arrived. The rest of us plan to remain a little longer—the children do so love to spend time with their cousins.’