Page 15 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“How fortunate that my leave is for a month. Time enough to have the banns read in your parish church. And then what? Follow me and the drum? It can be a hard life.”

Jane brushed his cheek. “I do want to go with you. I am willing to face the challenge, to forsake the safer path.” She spoke the words forcefully, as though waiting for Spencer to dissuade her.

He had no intention of it. With Jane by his side, camp life would cease to be bleak. “I plan to sell my commission a few years from now, in any case. I do not see myself as a career army man, though I am fond of travel.”

“I long to travel.”

The words were adamant. With Jane’s restlessness and fire, Spencer believed her. “After that, I will have a house waiting for me,” he said. “One of my father’s minor estates.”

Her smile beamed. “Excellent.”

“Not really—it needs much work. Again, I am not promising you softness.”

“I do not want it.” Jane kissed his chin. “I am resilient. And resourceful. I like to be doing things, and I do not mean embroidery. Come to think of it, my grandmother never did embroidery in her life.”

“I know.” Spencer nuzzled her hair. “Your grandfather spoke much about her when I met him in London.”

Jane stilled. Very slowly, she lifted her head. “You met my grandfather in London?”

Spencer nodded. “Last spring. I was on another leave-taking, much shorter, to visit my family. I spent a night in London, and at the tavern near my lodgings, I met an amusing old Scotsman who was pleased to sit up with me telling stories. I mentioned my friendship with Barnett, and your grandfather was delighted.”

“He was, was he?” Jane’s tone turned ominous.

“Indeed. But when I arrived last night, he asked me not to speak of our previous meeting to anyone. I have no idea why, but I saw no reason not to indulge him.”

He leaned to kiss her again, to enjoy the taste of her fire, but Jane put her hand on his chest.

“Will you excuse me for one moment, Spencer?”

Spencer skimmed his fingertips across her cheek. “When you speak my name, I cannot refuse you, love.”

Her eyes softened, but she scrambled from his lap. Spencer rose with her, a steadying hand on her waist. “I won’t be long,” she promised.

Jane strode from the room, her head high. Spencer watched her go, then chuckled to himself and followed her.

* * *

“Grandfather.”

She found he’d moved to a smaller, warmer sitting room, only this time he’d truly nodded off. The old man jumped awake and then to his feet, the whisky flask he’d been holding clanging to the floor.

“What the devil? Janie, what is it?”

Jane pointed an accusing finger at his face. “You met Captain Ingram in London this past spring.”

“Did I?” Grandfather frowned, then stroked his jaw in contemplation. “Now that you call it to my mind, I believe I did. My memory ain’t what it used to be.”

“I cry foul.” Jane planted her hands on her hips. “You knew he was John’s friend.Youput the idea into John’s head to bring Captain Ingram here for Hogmanay, didn’t you? Do not prevaricate with me, please.”

“Hmm. I might have mentioned our meeting in a letter to young Barnett.”

“And you told John to send Captain Ingram into the house first.”

“Well, he is dark-haired. And tall. And what ladies believe is handsome.” Grandfather spread his hands. “My prediction came true, you see? You will marry this year’s First-Footer. I see by your blush that he has accepted your proposal.”

Jane’s cheeks indeed were hot. “Prediction, my eye. You planned this from the beginning, you old fraud.”

Grandfather drew himself up. “And if I did? And if I met Ingram’s family and determined that they were worthy of you? Captain Ingram is a far better match for you than Barnett. My lady ancestors were witches, yes, but they always had contingencies to make certain the spell worked.”

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