Page 27 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“He is a guest in this house, Mama,” Lady Needham said, speaking from one of the settees.

Lady Addiscombe’s head whipped around and she glared at her daughter. “Have you lost what little sense you once possessed?”

The viscountess looked pained by her mother’s words, but not—Stacia couldn’t help noticing—especially hurt. “Mama, this is hardly—”

“I know he was living with your sister, but I don’t expect any better out of Hyacinth as she has never had the sense to recognize what is proper behavior. But I did hope for better judgement from you, Phoebe.”

“Hyacinth and His Grace wrote to Selina first and asked if it would be acceptable to bring Lord Shelton. Lord Shelton apologized to Selina in a letter months ago—and would have done so in person long before now if Selina had invited him to Courtland. As it is, he just left her and Lord Shaftsbury’s chambers where he apologized.”

“Of course he is apologizing! He was caught red-handed. No doubt Chatham has curtailed his allowance and now he is hanging on his cousin’s sleeve for every penny he receives.” She sneered. “Naturally Needham is so lacking in all decency that—”

“Mama.” The viscountess spoke the single word in a quiet, calm tone, but the command in it was enough to stop her mother’s diatribe. “You may say whatever you like about me but never utter a disparaging word about my husband in my presence.”

Lady Addiscombe’s jaw sagged at the quiet chastisement.

Stacia wanted to cheer. Although she had only exchanged a few words with the intimidating looking Viscount Needham she had quickly seen how kind he was to his wife and her family, not to mention that all the servants at Wych House absolutely adored their employer.

Lady Addiscombe glared at her daughter for a long, fraught moment.

The younger woman lifted her chin and stared back, the dull flush that crept up her throat the only sign she was agitated.

“Very well,” the countess said. “As you are evidently determined to run your reputation into the ground by handing it over to a man who has no clue how to go on—an ironmonger, for pity’s sake—I will speak to Needham myself. Where is he, pray?”

“Mama, I don’t think—”

“No. You don’t think,” her mother snapped. “I wish to speak to your husband. If you don’t tell me where to find him, I shall ferret him out myself. You will come with me, Martin,” the countess said.

Stacia’s jaw sagged. “Er, my lady? Should I summon a servant to—”

“That won’t be necessary. I will take you,” Lady Needham said wearily, and began to push to her feet.

Shelton, who was still standing in the middle of the room, hastened toward the viscountess and offered her his hand.

“Thank you,” Lady Needham said, cutting him a swift, distracted smile before turning to her mother. “Needham was called to the library for some urgent business only a short time ago. I will accompany you.”

“Business,”the countess sniffed. “I hardly require an escort; I know where the library is.”

“Nevertheless,” Lady Needham said firmly, “I will take you there.”

Lady Addiscombe swanned from the room without responding, Lady Needham behind her.

Stacia glanced from face to face, meeting looks of sympathy, embarrassment, and—from Lord Bellamy’s young school friends, open-mouthed befuddlement.

The countess’s voice came from the corridor, “Martin! Do quit dawdling!I am waiting for you.”

Stacia briefly squeezed her eyes shut.

And then she hurried to catch up to her employer.