Page 14 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“Then askhim. Your grandmother did me. She tired of me shillyshallying. So she stepped up and told me I either married her, or she walked away and looked for someone else.”

Jane covered her fears with a laugh. She could picture Maggie MacDonald doing just that. “But I am not Grandmother.”

Grandfather’s eyes softened. “Oh, yes, you are. You are so like her, Janie, you don’t realize. Her spitting image when she was young, and you have her spirit. She knew it too.” Tears beaded on his lashes. “I miss her so.”

“Oh, Grandfather.” Janie launched herself at him, enfolding him into her arms. Grandfather rested his head on her shoulder, a fragile old man, his bones too light.

After a time, they pushed away from each other, both trying to smile.

“Go to him, Janie,” Grandfather said. “For her sake.”

Jane kissed his faded cheek and spun for the door. As she turned to close it behind her, she saw Grandfather’s tears flow unchecked down his face, he wiping them away with a fold of his plaid.

CHAPTER6

Spencer observedthat Barnett did not seem too morose that Lady Jane had thrown him over. He watched Barnett fling himself into the hunt, crowing over the things he’d found for his group, all the while glancing raptly at the daughter of guests from Kent. His behavior was not so much of a man bereaved as one reprieved.

Spencer knew that if Jane had givenhimthe push, he’d be miserable, tearing at his hair and beating his breast like the best operatic hero.

He feared Jane had dismissal in mind when she gazed down from the upper gallery and caught his eye. She gave him a long look before she skimmed down the stairs and disappeared into the library.

Spencer, who’d found none of the items on his list, his heart not in the game, handed his paper to Thomas and told the lad to carry on.

“Jane?” Spencer whispered as he entered the library. It was dark, a few candles burning for the sake of the gamers, the fire half-hearted against the cold. The chill was why no one lingered here—the room was quite empty.

Spencer shut the door. “Jane?”

She turned from the shadows beside the fireplace. Spencer approached her, one reluctant pace at a time.

When he was a few strides away, Jane smiled at him. That smile blazed like sunshine, lighting the room to its darkest corners.

“Captain Ingram,” Lady Jane said. “Will you marry me?”

Spencer ceased breathing. He knew his heart continued to beat, because it pounded blood through him in hot washes. But he felt nothing, as though he’d been wound in bandages, like the time a French saber had pierced his shoulder and the surgeon had swaddled his upper body like a babe’s.

That shoulder throbbed, the old pain resurfacing, and Spencer’s breath rushed back into his lungs.

“Jane…”

“I am sincere, I assure you,” Jane said, as though she supposed he’d argue with her. “I know I am doing this topsy-turvy, but—”

Spencer laid shaking hands on her shoulders, the blue silk of her gown warmed by her body. “Which is the right way ’round for you, my beautiful, beautiful fae.”

“Grandfather would faint if he heard you say so,” Jane said with merriment. “I believe he’s rather afraid of the fae. Even if he married one.”

Spencer tightened his clasp on her. He never remembered how Jane ended up in his arms, but in the next instant he was kissing her, deeply, possessively, and she responded with the mad passion he’d seen in her eyes.

That kiss ended, but they scarcely had time to draw a breath before the next kiss began. And the next.

They ended up in the wing chair that reposed before the fire, placed so a reader might keep his or her feet warm. Spencer’s large frame took up most of it, but there was room for Jane on his lap.

They kissed again, Spencer cradling her.

How much time sped by, Spencer had no idea, but at last he drew Jane to rest on his shoulder.

“Shall we adjourn to Gretna Green?” he asked in a low voice.

Jane raised her head, her blue eyes bright in the darkened room. “No, indeed. I wish my family and friends to be present. But soon.”

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