Page 65 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“That actually sounds appealing.”

Sylvester gave him a pained look.

“Why is this important to you?” Andrew asked.

“Because I have been sent on a mission.”

There was only one person on earth who gave his cousin marching orders.

“How come you are the one who is married and yet I end up having to obey your wife?”

“It is all part and parcel of belonging to a family.”

Andrew sighed. “Tell me what we have been ordered to do.”

“Lady Needham has requested that her family take part in the village festivities. We don’t need to stay long, but Needham needs to open the dance, so we should stay for at least the first few sets.”

Andrew opened his mouth.

“Like it or not, you are now part of the Bellamy family, Drew.”

Andrew closed his mouth.

The duke continued. “This Christmas festival is the highlight of the year for a good many people, not just from Little Sissingdon, but for miles around. Needham said there are some equestrian events which need judges—don’t worry, you won’t be roped into that; I have already volunteered—and there are booths filled with handicrafts and food.”

Andrew pondered this fresh hell.

“Think of your attendance today as your Christmas gift to me,” Chatham said. “And yes, before you ask—Kathryn is coming,” he added, easily reading Andrew’s mind. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her torment you. At least not much.”

Andrew snorted. “If Kathryn is going that means we will be child minding, doesn’t it?”

“All of the younger crowd will be going along,” the duke conceded.

“And we are to spend all afternoon and evening there?”

“The dance begins unfashionably early. It is more of a family affair than a typical assembly.”

Yes, it sounded like hell. “I’ll wager young Bellamy and his mates are going under duress.”

“Very much so—his sisters have applied thumbscrews.”

Andrew’s mind raced as he scrambled for a believable excuse. He could find none. “Fine,” he said. “I will go.”

Sylvester smiled in a way that said he knew all along that would be Andrew’s answer.

***

Stacia found the great hall brimming with activity when she descended the grand staircase.

“Are you coming with us Miss Martin?” Lady Kathryn shouted.

“Lord, Kat,” Viscount Bellamy said, scowling at his sister, “perhaps you could screech a bit farther away from my ear next time.”

“Yes. I am coming,” Stacia said. “At least for a little while.”

“You will enjoy the Christmas market,” Lady Kathryn assured her.

Lady Celsa and one of Lord Bellamy’s school friends—Stacia could never keep their names straight—walked past, wrestling with a bulky burlap bag.