Page 58 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“It was cruel of you to abandon me with the infantry.”

Stacia couldn’t help smiling. “Infantry? I believe the Misses Lowery are nineteen, my lord.”

“That is an infant from where I am standing. Besides, all that giggling makes them seem far younger.”

Stacia thought so, too. The twins were beautiful but appeared to be interested in nothing other than clothing, balls, and boys.

“I would not have expected excessive giggling to be much of an impediment if the woman in question was beautiful enough.”

He raised his eyebrows, his gaze suddenly uncomfortably piercing, as if he could see the jealous monster that lived inside her. “It depends on what, Miss Martin.”

“I b-beg your pardon?”

“You said an impediment. An impediment to what? Marriage? A game of Whist?” His lips pulled up on one side. “Fleshly pleasures?”

Fleshly pleasures.

Stacia opened her mouth, but all that came out was, “Uh.”

Mercifully, Lord Needham entered the noisy drawing room and rescued her from uttering anything else.

He came to a halt in the center of the room and the chatter instantly died away. “Tonight, we are choosing names for the secret gift giving. This is a tradition from my own family.” He smiled faintly. “As many of you know, my father John Needham was an iron monger long before he was a lord. He was a man of the people who adored Christmastime and felt strongly that his employees and servants should be included in the revelry. To that end, he instituted a modern version of Saturnalia.”

“Saturnalia?” Lord Bellamy repeated. Based on the curious expressions on most of the other guests he was not alone in never having heard of the celebration. Stacia, the daughter of an antiquarian, at least knew the essentials of the Roman bacchanal which turned the social order on its head.

“From the Roman celebration of Saturn,” Lord Needham explained. “I have chosen a few of my favorite traditions to continue here at Wych House. In any event, the secret gift giving is open to any who wish to participate—you simply need to add your name to this bowl.”

“What other sorts of events take place during Saturnalia?” Baroness Mixon asked, looking more animated than Stacia had yet seen her.

“We will have a treasure hunt—this is an event where the lord of the manor is supposed to share some of his wealth.” Several people laughed. “On Christmas Eve we will have what many houses call a servant ball, but ours will have a slight…twist. Not only will it be a night for my employees and servants to enjoy themselves, but it is an event at which the masters wait on the servants.”

The room erupted with excited chatter and Stacia saw Lord and Lady Needham exchange amused glances before he continued. “Naturally none of you are obliged to participate in that ball—or any of the other events, for that matter. There will be a second, more traditional, ball on Christmas Day. If you are interested in the gift giving, you need to put your name in now as Lady Kathryn has volunteered to assign the, er—what did you call it, my dear?” he asked his wife.

“Secret St. Nicholas,” Lady Needham said.

Several people chuckled.

Lord Needham went to sit by his wife and people resumed their activities—all the newcomers and even some of the neighbor guests approaching the table where Lady Kathryn sat.

Lord Shelton was watching the young people jostle to add their names, an amused look on his face.

“Is your name already in the bowl, my lord?” Stacia said, relieved to find her voice and brain had resumed functioning.

He laughed. “No, it is not.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “You are too grand a personage to participate in festivities including servants?”

He pursed his lips and fixed her with a look of dry amusement. “Hedgehog,” he whispered.

And then he pushed to his feet and headed for the table with the bowl.

***

Andrew waited until the last of the youngsters had cleared off before taking one of the small pieces of paper and scribbling his own name. Before he could drop it into the bowl Kathryn’s hand shot out and snatched it from his fingers.

She unfolded it, read his name, and snorted.

“What is so amusing?” he asked, although he could guess.