Janice Preston - Christmas With His Wallflower Wife

Jane was still trembling, like an injured bird…fragile…terrified.

‘No,’ he heard himself say. He slid his arm from around Jane’s waist and grasped her shoulders, manoeuvring her so he could look straight into her swollen eyes. ‘Lady Jane Colebrooke…will you do me the honour of being my wife?’

Jane’s head pounded. She shouldn’t accept him. She knew she shouldn’t—this was just like Alex. Impulsive. Doing things he would later regret. He’d been like it all through their childhood. But Jane had no energy. No strength. No courage. The fear Stepmama would, somehow, force her to marry Pikeford was all-consuming.

She had dwindled until she was a mere husk and, like a husk, she allowed herself to be carried on the wind. ‘Yes.’

All she wanted was for all of this—and all of them—to go away. The Duke, she could see, was uneasy. But Stepmama—oh, she was delighted! Not only was her nuisance of a stepdaughter finally off her hands, but the family would now be irrevocably connected to that of the Duke of Cheriton, one of the most powerful and influential men in the land.

Jane’s conscience made a valiant late attempt at fairness and she clutched Alex’s hand.

‘Alex! No… I should not have… I am not thinking straight… You need not…’

Her breathless protest died away as he held her gaze with those gorgeous golden-brown eyes of his. Alex grinned that old reckless care-for-nothing grin that had stolen Jane’s young heart years before. He pulled her close and put his lips to her ear.

‘C’mon, Janey. It’ll be all right. It’ll be fun.’

The same words with which he had led her into devilment during their youth—he to prove he wouldn’t be confined by rules; she, willing to do anything to escape Stepmama and to please her childhood hero. There had always been consequences, of course, but now—here was her chance to escape Stepmama for good. Never again would she have to bite her tongue as she endured one of Stepmama’s diatribes about how plain and useless she was.

‘Thank you.’

She caught the Duke’s frown from the corner of her eye and quailed inside. But it seemed Alex had noticed, too, because his arm snaked around her waist again and he faced his father, chin jutting, head high, bringing to mind the defiant boy, full of bravado.

‘Father?’

His challenge was unmistakable. A muscle leapt in the Duke’s jaw, but he nodded.

‘If it is your wish, then we will make the arrangements. Wait here.’

He turned on his heel and strode away and Jane felt the tension leach from Alex. She eyed those left in the clearing. Stepmama was already crowing to Papa about the connection and the splendid society wedding she would arrange. Alex’s uncle, Lord Vernon Beauchamp, walked over to Alex and Jane, followed by Mr Graystoke—a half-Romany whose father was an earl, and who was married to Alex’s Aunt Cecily, but refused to be called ‘uncle’. Stepmama—for all she fawned over the Duke—held his brother-in-law in disdain and made no secret of the fact.

‘Alex? What can I do to help?’ Concern etched Lord Vernon’s face as he gripped his nephew’s shoulder.

‘You can shut her up about lavish society weddings,’ Alex growled. He looked down at Jane. ‘Come and stay at the Abbey, Janey. Don’t go back there and let her terrorise you into having what she wants. Unless…do you want a big wedding?’

Jane shook her head. She could think of nothing worse. ‘Stepmama only wants one because she thinks it will help my sisters attract husbands.’

Mr Graystoke’s lip curled. He strolled unhurriedly across to where Stepmama was still talking at Papa. Silence descended.

‘The young couple prefer a quiet wedding. Family only,’ he said.

Papa flushed red as Stepmama visibly bristled.

‘Who do you think—?’

Her mouth shut with a snap as Lord Vernon joined them.

‘And Lady Jane will stay at the Abbey until Alex obtains the licence,’ he drawled. ‘I foresee no objection from the Bishop and you may rest assured Jane will be well chaperoned in the meantime.’

‘I shall come myself to collect her belongings,’ Mr Graystoke added and Stepmama spluttered, spots of outrage colouring her cheeks. ‘Shall we say in two hours? If you leave now, that should give you sufficient time to pack her belongings.’

The two men turned their backs on her parents and strolled back to Alex and Jane.

‘ That shut her up,’ Lord Vernon said, with a wink.

Over his shoulder, Jane watched her parents leave, Stepmama gesticulating furiously. Even though she wanted them gone, it still hurt to see Papa walk away without a word.

‘Maybe you should take her back to the house, Alex, and not wait for Leo,’ said Mr Graystoke. ‘She’s had a shock.’ He crouched slightly and tipped up her chin, holding her gaze with his dark eyes. ‘All will be well, my dear. You are part of the family now. You are protected.’

The anxiety agitating her stomach settled and stilled. ‘Thank you.’ She glanced up at Alex, who was frowning at her. ‘What is it?’

‘You can’t go back with your gown all torn like that. I—’

His jaw snapped shut and Jane followed his gaze. Alex’s father, a gown draped over one arm, was approaching, the Duchess—Alex’s stepmother—by his side.

‘Vern, Zach, Alex…come. Let us return to our guests. Rosalind will help Jane. The fewer people who know what happened here, the better.’

‘We’d better find a way to stop Lady Stowford from spewing her poison all over the district, then,’ said Lord Vernon. ‘I believe Zach and I might have contrived to upset her. Just a smidgeon, you understand. And totally without intention.’ The twinkle in his eyes belied his apologetic tone.

‘I have already helped the Stowfords to understand it is in their best interests to remain quiet,’ said the Duke.

‘We met them on their way back to the house,’ added the Duchess, ‘and Lady Stowford made the mistake of attempting to pull rank on Leo, claiming rights as the mother of the bride. I believe she now accepts it is what Alex and Jane want that is important. Now, off you go, you men, and leave me and Jane to make her respectable. Go on! Shoo!’

Left alone with the Duchess, Jane found her voice again.

‘I shouldn’t have accepted Alex, Your Grace. I’m sorry. He doesn’t want to marry me. I know he doesn’t. Stepmama gave him no choice.’ Suppressed tears thickened her voice. Why would anyone want to marry her? She wasn’t pretty or even vivacious. Alex had been trapped. ‘She would keep saying I was ruined and I must marry S-Sir Denzil.’

‘Jane…you cannot possibly marry that villain after what he tried to do.’ The Duchess took her hand. ‘You and Alex have always been friends, have you not?’

Jane nodded.

‘Then allow him to help his friend and…’ The Duchess paused, a line stitched between her brows. Then her chin tilted. ‘And, in return, you can be a friend to him. Alex needs someone like you in his life…’ she nodded, emphasising her words ‘…although he would never admit it. Unless, of course, the thought of being wed to him truly repels you?’

Hazel eyes searched Jane’s face. She shook her head. No. That thought did not repel her. Not at all.

‘Good. Now, come, let us get this gown off you and make you respectable. I have even brought a comb and hairpins. No one will guess what so nearly happened and Leo has already shut Sir Denzil in one of the outbuildings until he sobers up and can be…um… “brought to fully appreciate the iniquity of his actions” were, I believe, Leo’s exact words.’