Janice Preston - Christmas With His Wallflower Wife

‘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.’

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.