Page 163 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

Lady Needham had been joined by Lady Crewe and the two sisters had their heads together, so Stacia slipped into the ballroom unnoticed.

She gazed around at the magical scene. Holly and evergreen in profusion, with the addition of huge potted plants and masses of flowers from Lord Needham’s hothouses, somehow combined to create a winter wonderland that also held a promise of spring.

“It is beautiful, is it not?”

Stacia turned and found Lady Shaftsbury beside her. As always when she was confronted with the stunning woman, she felt a bit tongue tied. “It is magical.”

“Yes, that is exactly the word.” Lady Shaftsbury took in Stacia’s hair and gown. “I must say that you look magical, Miss Martin. I am delighted to see you so recovered. And your hair suits you marvelously.”

Stacia looked for some sign that the other woman knew where she had really been, but the marchioness’s beautiful face held nothing but genuine good will.

“Thank you, my lady.” She self-consciously fingered her curls. “It feels lovely, but…conspicuous.”

“I can imagine. Your hair must have reached past your waist.”

“It did.”

Lady Shaftsbury lightly touched her own elegant upswept hair, which was probably as long as Stacia’s had been. “I would like to rid myself of some of this bothersome length, but Shaftsbury is enamored with it.”

Her words reminded Stacia of Lord Shelton’s erotic threat involving her hair and the bedposts and felt a pang of remorse that whatever he had meant would no longer be possible. Would he be disappointed?

Lady Shaftsbury leaned closer, pulling Stacia from her thoughts. “Incidentally, I am currently in search of a companion—more of a secretary, really—to assist me both in London and when we return to the country. I would be delighted if you considered the position.”

Stacia gazed into the other woman’s magnificent blue eyes—the only pair she’d seen to rival Shelton’s—and experienced an almost overwhelming surge of gratitude.

“That is very kind. And—and I will certainly consider it if I leave her ladyship’s employment.”

The marchioness smiled, touched Stacia lightly on the arm, and then drifted across the room in her elegant sky-blue gown, looking so much like an angel it was hard to pull her gaze away.

Even though the ball had scarcely begun the small orchestra cued a country dance and the dance floor filled with an enthusiasm rarely witnessed in a London ballroom. No sophisticated ennui at this particular function.

Stacia was subtly scanning the room for Shelton, when a voice behind her said, “Are you free for this dance, Miss Martin?”

She turned to find Mr. Dennehy, Lord Needham’s tall, dark, and mysterious secretary standing behind her. He looked dangerously handsome in his evening clothes, the exquisitely tailored garments making his whipcord lean form appear even taller.

“I would love to, Mr. Dennehy.”

She had danced with him at the village fete, so she knew he was an exquisite, if not exactly comfortable, dance partner. His dark blue eyes regarded her almost somberly, the lush black eyelashes that fringed them the only soft thing about the man, who was all sharp angles, his thin shapely lips and high cheekbones giving him an almost starved look, although his body was far too substantial to explain her odd assessment.

“Are you enjoying your stay at Wych House, Miss Martin?” he asked, when the steps brought them close enough to talk.

“Very much so. Lord and Lady Needham have made me feel very welcome.” She tilted her head. “I detect a slight accent, Mr. Dennehy.”

His lips curved so slightly it would be a stretch to call it a smile. “I am originally from Dublin, but I have lived in England since I was a lad.”

Stacia did not think he could be much older than she was, although his deportment and air of seriousness made him seem older.

“I understand that your coworker Mr. Dixon will soon be leaving,” she said, when he appeared content to let her lead the conversation.

“Yes. The day after Boxing Day will be his last day.”

“Will you be alone for long, or will Lord Needham engage another secretary?”

“It will just be me.” After a moment, he added, “I’ve worked for his lordship for several years, but only during the summers, when I was not at university. Now I will work for him all the time.”

“Where did you study?”

“Cambridge.”