Page 91 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

Stacia could not help smiling at the thought of having him all to herself.

Lady Addiscombe will sack you and you will be cast so far beyond the pale you will never get another position.

The thought was not nearly as frightening as it should be. After all, Lord Needham had given his word to help her, hadn’t he?

He might feel differently after this…

He might. But Stacia did not think a man who brought his illegitimate daughter—and her mother—to live under the same roof as his new wife cared overly much about social conventions.

If her reputation was going to be compromised—ruined—then she might as well enjoy herself in the meantime.

Why was that thought so liberating?

Because you are trapped in a room with the man of your dreams.

Stacia smiled.

And he is trapped with you, not exactly a dream woman for any man.

Drab little dab of a woman.

Her smile faded, as did the delight and giddiness she’d been feeling.

This disaster was not his fault and yet he would pay for it. Of course he could probably weather such a scandal as he had in the past—

Stacia blinked, seized by the thought.

Lady Kathryn’s story about Sarah Creighton—now Leary—came back to her.

Surely something like this is not what had happened to Shelton and Sarah?

No. That would be too strange.

Wouldn’t it?

“Come, Miss Martin—sit close to the fire.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, and perched on the edge of the lovely, if threadbare, settee.

Apologize. And this time, make it genuine.

“My lord?”

“Yes, Miss Martin?” he asked, his expression vague but…amused?

What did he find amusing? This situation?

What does it matter? Apologize.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No, thank you.”

“Something to drink?” He uncorked one jug, sniffed and frowned before turning to the second. This time, he sniffed and smiled.

“What is in them?” she asked.

“Lemonade or ale. Which would you like?”