Pruzinsky stared down at her. “This is something I shall have to get accustomed to, you know.”

“What?” She smiled up at him. “A long walk on a winter’s day?”

“No.” He smiled. “Enjoying the company of two beautiful women who look exactly the same. I am a most fortunate man.”

Gray coughed.

“Indeed, you are. And so clever to appreciate it.” Beryl shot Gray a sharp look, then returned her attention to the prince. “Not all men are so intelligent.”

The footman opened the door and they stepped outside, but not before Gray noticed the servant/actor in question now sported a long, drooping mustache, white hair and comically bushy eyebrows. Gray did wonder what part this particular footman was rehearsing. He caught the footman/actor’s eye and winked. The young man’s eyes widened in surprise. Gray stifled a grin. Excellent.

They strolled briskly down the road leading to the pond; Gray a step behind Beryl and the prince. Beryl hung on Pruzinsky’s arm. Under other circumstances, Gray would have suspected her of flirting. Today he was fairly sure she was just trying to keep warm. He tried not to smirk. No, Beryl would not be with them for long. The prince, on the other hand, appeared invigorated by the cold winter day. Gray, too, found the crisp air refreshing.

Pruzinsky inhaled deeply. “I must confess, I enjoy days like this.”

“Cold, gray and bleak,” Beryl muttered.

“Not at all,” Pruzinsky said. “I find serenity in the starkness of a winter’s day. And there is nothing like sharp, cold air to get the blood moving. To reinvigorate one’s senses.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Beryl said under her breath, then forced a smile. “Tell me, Count, is your country at all like England?”

“I haven’t seen all of England, but I would say we are much more mountainous. You see, we are nestled between Russia, Prussia and Austria.”

“Quite a strategic spot,” Gray said, although that geography didn’t seem quite right to him. Still, that part of the world was constantly shifting, and where boundaries were drawn today might not be where they were yesterday or would be tomorrow.

He had spent a few minutes in the manor’s library after his foray in the attic with Camille, wanting to see if he could discover anything more about the prince’s kingdom. And, indeed, he had found everything as Win had said. Avalonia hadn’t existed as a sovereign country for more than sixty years. That meant there was no castle, certainly no crown prince and, more than likely, no fortune. Still, if he said anything to Camille before he knew exactly who this man was and what he wanted—and if he was wrong—she would never forgive him. There was, as well, the distinct possibility she would never forgive him if he was right either.