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He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind. He’d figure out how to prove she could trust him…that he wasn’t his father. He pasted on a smile. “We’re to gather in the drawing room and receive instructions for today’s activity. Shall we?” He lifted his arm to her.

Pippy nodded with a resigned look. Now that more guests had arrived, she’d retreated back to being reserved and quiet.

He led her down the stairs. A group was already assembling in the entry hall.

Freddie couldn’t help but look at the ladies present. Was there anyone there he’d prefer to Pippy? His gaze landed on Miss Sterling and moved quickly to Miss Prescott. He could not see himself with either young lady. And frankly, he could not imagine they would suit his father, either. Perhaps Lady Marguerite, Miss Fuller, or Miss Orston might be acceptable. But Freddie could not abide even the thought of them. He glanced over to his wife and his chest warmed. Regardless of what his father said, there was no one there he would rather have married.

Just as Freddie was about to move toward the drawing room, he noticed Archie trying to sneak away. He’d decided to come after all? But then, why was he trying to sneak away? If Freddie had to suffer through the activities, then so would Archie.

“Archie,” he called, halting his cousin in his tracks.

Archie turned, a sickly kind of smile on his face, and lifted a hand in greeting.

“Hurry, before he tries to slither away.” He placed Pippy’s hand on his arm and led her over to introduce her to his wastrel of a cousin.

“Freddie,” Archie said so much with that one word.

Freddie grinned. Perhaps there was some fun to be had after all. “Lord Dalmeer, may I introduce my wife, Lady Weymouth? Lady Weymouth, my cousin, Lord Dalmeer.” He would not normally be so formal with Archie, but it hardly seemed right to grant his cousin such intimacies when he did not have them himself.

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady.” Archie bowed over her hand as a proper gentleman. He could be one, then. Interesting. Freddie had not seen that side of him in years. Or perhaps it was only when his mother was around that all properness took leave of him. Something to consider—later.

The crowd moved toward the drawing room, taking them with it. Low murmurs hummed through the air as everyone waited for the announcement. One would think it was something grand—something to be anticipated. Knowing his aunt, it was neither.

Stan sauntered up next to Freddie and smiled over at Pippy. “Lady Weymouth, you look lovely today. Are you ready for a day of festivities?”

Pippy smiled politely. “Do you have inside knowledge of what the activity is to be?”

He lifted a shoulder. “No. But from what I’ve seen, everything with Lady Dalmeer is festive, is it not?”

Freddie tipped his head to the side. “I confess, festive is not a word I usually think of with my aunt. Meddling? Indeed. Scheming? Most assuredly. Contriving? Always.”

Stan flicked up his brows. “You know her better than I, so I’ll not argue the point.”

“An unfortunate truth, to be sure.”

Clapping sounded from the front of the room, and Lady Dalmeer’s voice pierced the air. “Come closer, please. I do not like to shout.”

“I should challenge her on that notion,” Fin muttered as he stopped beside Freddie. “What are the chances she’ll leave us be?”

Freddie could only give his friend a doubtful look before Lady Dalmeer spoke again.

“Today, we are to set about collecting greenery for the decorations.” She looked pleased with herself. “I’ll assign you a group and a room to decorate. This is a competition, so you’ll want to put your best foot forward.”

“What is the prize?” Ari called out.

Their aunt smiled tightly. “It’s a surprise. But trust me when I say it’s most desirable.”

“Shall I join you?” Archie asked, turning his attention back to them. “Or do you mean to sneak off into the hedges together?”

Freddie narrowed his eyes at his cousin’s inappropriate remark. Perhaps this was Archie’s revenge for making him stay? Freddie scowled even more when he saw Pippy color up. At times, his cousin was not so different from his mother.

As if realizing his comment had not landed as he intended, Archie grasped Freddie’s shoulder. “Do not answer that. I shall go where I am wanted.” And then he moved off into the crowd.

Freddie could not say his cousin’s departure disappointed him.

“Lord and Lady Weymouth,” his aunt searched the room until her eyes settled on them. “Your group comprises Lord Kentwood and your sisters, Lady Arabella and Lady Evangeline.” She tapped her fingertips together. “You’ll be decorating the stairs and entryway. Don’t think you’re getting off easy. It’s perhaps the most important area because it’s the first place my guests will see as they enter. You’re setting the tone for the whole house—the whole of Christmastide! Do not disappoint me.” She said it in a sing-song voice, but Freddie detected the underlying threat.

She moved on to assign Mr. Cole and Miss Bowles next. Freddie paid them no attention.