“Why would he do that, dear?” A pleasant smile curved her mother’s lips, but the look in her eyes was sharp.

“What are you up to?” Delilah glared.

Camille sighed. “I can tell you the entire story all at once, or I can allow you to drag it out of me, one question at a time.”

“Let’s drag it out of her,” Delilah said with barely concealed delight. “I should quite enjoy that.”

“Whereas I would prefer to hear it all at once.” Mother perched on the edge of the sofa and looked at her older daughter expectantly. “Well, go on.”

“It’s rather hard to explain,” Camille began.

Delilah snorted. “No doubt.”

“You see, there was, well, a prince . . .”

Mother’s brow rose. “A prince?”

“Who was quite taken with me, as I was with him,” Camille added quickly. “Indeed, I was confident there would be a proposal by Christmas.”

Delilah scoffed.

Mother cast her a quelling glance, then returned her attention to Camille. “Continue.”

“He’s really rather a proper sort, although somewhat unusual in terms of not traveling as royalty, incognito and all, and not being treated as royalty.” She shrugged. “Things of that nature.”

“Eccentric.” Mother nodded in a knowing manner. “Not uncommon with royalty.”

“He has, as well, ideas about a proper English Christmas and is quite enthusiastic about it, so, naturally, I wished to give that to him.”

“To be expected, of course,” Mother said.

“And, well, you and Uncle Basil weren’t in the country, anyway, so it did seem rather harmless.” Camille paced the room, trying to find the right words. “And I did think a proper English Christmas required a proper English family. . . .” She paused and met her mother’s gaze directly. “And even you must admit, when you are here for Christmas, or any other time, for that matter, the house is filled with people and behavior that isn’t the least bit proper.” “Not the sort of ambiance that would impress a prince deciding whether or not a family is the sort royalty would wish to be aligned with.” Mother’s voice was thoughtful. “Is that what you’re trying to say?” “I can understand that.” Delilah nodded in that superior manner of hers.

“That’s it exactly, Mother.” This might not be as difficult as Camille had thought, after all. “So, as you weren’t here . . .”

“We have established that, dear.”

“Yes, of course. As you weren’t here, and I needed a family . . .” Camille drew a deep breath. “I hired one.”

Delilah stared in disbelief. “You did what?”

“You heard me, I hired a family.”

“Where did you get a family?”

“And at Christmas,” Mother murmured.

“I didn’t actually hire a real family,” Camille said as if the idea was absurd. “That would be impossible. I hired”—she braced herself—“actors.”

Delilah’s eyes widened with shock; her mouth dropped open; she couldn’t seem to get a word out. Good.