Page 40 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“A pig in a jumper! Look, Mumma!”
I turned at the little voice and saw Danny running towards us. Beth was hot on his heels, but it was Thomas who got there first and grabbed his hand.
“Danny, I told you not to run off. You’ll get lost,” he said, bending down.
Beth sighed, catching my gaze. “That’s the third time he’s said that.”
“Good to see he’s listening to him,” I replied, smiling at her.
“But there’s a pig. In ajumper,” Danny finished on a whisper.
Nana beamed at him. “This is Beatrix Trotter. Would you like to stroke her head?”
No.
On my way to Castleton, I had to have driven through a portal into an alternate universe, because this was insane.
Danny was completely enraptured by the pig, and I had a feeling Beth might have just gotten herself a new babysitter. The pig… And by extension, my grandmother.
Danny’s face lit up, and he reached forwards to smooth Beatrix’s head. The pig did a weird little oinking noise that I took to be a sound of happiness because, you know, she didn’t try to bite off any of Danny’s fingers.
It was fine.
All fine.
If you ignored the pig dressed in a hand-knitted festive jumper, of course.
Beth startled and reached into her coat pocket, pulling out her phone. “Ah, crap. Thomas, Zara’s calling. Can you watch Danny while I talk to her?”
“Of course,” he replied, smiling at her. “Do you want some waffles?”
“About ten thousand of them,” she said, swiping on her phone before she turned away and held it to her ear, covering her other one with her hand.
I didn’t catch what she said on the phone, but Hazel appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arm, making me jump. “Whoa. Hello.”
“Sylvie.” She gripped my other arm and shook me like a ragdoll. “There’s a stall here withhand-rolled marzipan. Hear me out, what if we—”
“Hazel.”
“But I—”
“No,” I said firmly. “You are not allowed to add anything else to the wedding until I have your first dance song.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Julian!” I rolled onto my tiptoes and looked over my sister’s head. “Your fiancée is harassing me about marzipan!”
He dropped his chin to his chest, and his shoulders heaved. “Hazel. We are not adding marzipan to the wedding.”
“Can I have some now?” she asked, still holding onto my arms.
