“Don’t be absurd,” Delilah chimed in. “I can’t imagine anything that would be unforgivable.”

“One cannot be faulted for doing the wrong thing for what one believed to be the right reasons,” Beryl said firmly.

“Oh, but I’m afraid one can,” her mother said with a wry smile.

“But what if it’s for the wrong reasons?” Camille said slowly. “What if one’s decisions were prompted by anger or foolishness or pride?”

“I would say that’s something else, then, isn’t it?” Mother said.

“But you said it yourself yesterday,” Camille began. “How one needs to decide—to balance, if you will—what one might lose from forgiveness as opposed to what one might gain.”

“Good Lord.” Beryl stared at her twin. “You’ve forgiven him, haven’t you?”

“Who?” Camille said casually, as if she had no idea what Beryl was talking about. She picked up an ornament and unwrapped it.

“You know who!” Beryl huffed.

“Grayson and I had a long, oh, discussion last night.” Camille placed the ornament on the tree. “We talked about what had passed between us eleven years ago. I know now what he was thinking and feeling, and he knows how I felt. And furthermore”—resolve washed through her—“I believe I know what I want.”

“For Christmas?” Delilah asked.

“Forever,” Camille said with a firm nod of her head.

“What a surprise.” Mother smiled.

“Did he tell you everything?” Beryl said sharply. “Did he tell you about his fortune?”

“Yes.” She met her sister’s gaze directly. “And last night he admitted he should have known me better than to have thought the worst of me. I should place the same trust in him.”

“You can’t just open your arms and say I’m yours.” Exasperation sounded in Beryl’s voice. “The man does need to be taught some sort of lesson.”

“Although one could argue they have both been taught a lesson that has gone on for eleven years,” Mother said in an offhand manner. “Indeed, one might say that was long enough.”

“Or too long,” Delilah pointed out.

“Regardless.” Beryl heaved a resigned sigh. “I don’t think you should make this too easy for him.”

“I daresay, it hasn’t been easy so far.” Camille shook her head. “I lost him once, because he thought money meant more to me than love, and because his pride was wounded as much as his heart. I shall not lose him again because of my pride.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I said last night that I had changed, and I have. The girl I was eleven years ago waited for him to return. Waited for her fairy-tale prince to sweep her away.” She set her jaw firmly. “The woman I am now knows what she wants and has waited entirely too long to pursue it.”