Brie laughed as she checked the long list of notes she had on a clipboard. “I could tell you that you aren’t going to Oxford to thicken your little black book.”

“But you won’t.” Easily he slung an arm over her shoulders. “You never lecture. I got a look at the guest list. It was a pleasure to see that the luscious Lady Lawrence will make it.”

That got her attention. Brie lowered the clipboard and scowled at him. “Bennett, Lady Alison Lawrence is nearly thirty and divorced.”

He gave her his charming choirboy look that had wickedness just around the edges. “So?”

Brie shook her head. Had he been born precocious? she wondered. “Maybe I should lecture.”

“Now leave that to Alex. He’s so much better at it.”

“So I’ve discovered,” she murmured.

“Has he been giving you a hard time?”

She was frowning again as she watched the next chandelier begin its journey up. “Does he usually?”

“It’s just his way.” The loyalty was there, too strong to waver.

“Prince Perfect.”

His face brightened. “Why, you remember—”

“Dr. Franco told me.”

“Oh.” His arm tightened briefly, both in reassurance and disappointment. “I didn’t have much time to talk to you last night when I got in. I’ve wanted to ask you how you were.”

“I wish I could tell you—along the windows, please,” she directed as men brought in two twenty-foot tables. They’ll be covered with white linen, she thought as she checked her clipboard again, then laden with little delicacies to help the guests get through the long night of the ball. “Physically, I’ve been given the nod, with reluctance. I think Dr. Franco would like to pamper me awhile longer. Everything else is complicated.”

He took her hand, turning the diamond so that the facets caught the light. “I guess this is one of those complications.”

She tensed, then relaxed. He could feel it. “Only temporarily. Things are bound to fall into place soon.” She thought of the dreams, of the thermos. “Bennett, I’ve been wanting to ask you about Nanny. Do you think she’s well?”

“Nanny?” He gave her a quick look of surprise. “Has she been ill? No one told me.”

“No, not ill.” Brie hesitated because the war of loyalties confused her. Why didn’t she simply tell what she suspected about her old nurse? Tell and be done with it? “But she’s quite old now, and people often become odd or …”

“Senile? Nanny?” This time he laughed as he squeezed her hand. “She’s got a mind like a brick. If she’s been fussing around you too much, it’s only because she feels entitled.”

“Of course.” Her doubts didn’t fade, but she kept them to herself. She’d watch and wait, as she’d promised herself.

“Brie, there’s a rumor running around that you and Reeve are the love match of the decade.”

“Oh?” She only raised a brow, but her thumb came around to worry the diamond on her finger. “Apparently we’re playing the game well.”