Camille bolted upright in bed and stared at the clock on the night table beside her bed. Good Lord, it was afternoon! She hadn’t slept this late all week. Of course she hadn’t slept this soundly either. But she’d been exhausted, and knowing she no longer had to be concerned about Nikolai, or whoever he was—well, this was the best she had slept since coming to the manor.

Still, it was Christmas Day and she didn’t want to waste a minute of it with the man she had waited eleven years for. She had already missed Christmas services. She scrambled out of bed and hurriedly dressed. She had told her maid not to worry about her this morning, as it was Christmas. Within a few minutes, she was dressed and headed downstairs.

“Fortesque.” She spotted the actor as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Where is everyone?”

“Count Pruzinsky left early this morning.”

She shrugged. “Oh, well, that’s that, then.”

He stared at her as if she had lost her mind. “And Mr. Elliott left shortly thereafter.”

“What?” Her knees buckled and she grabbed the newel post to keep from falling. “Are you sure?”

Fortesque hurried to her side to assist her. “Are you all right?”

“No.” It was as if the air had been pushed out of her lungs and her heart ripped to shreds.

He helped her to a chair. “He said something about his aunt.”

She barely heard him. She was wrong, and once again Grayson had left her.

“Should I find someone to help?”

“No, I’m fine.” She wasn’t at all fine but she would be. “Please find my maid and have her pack my bags at once. I’ll be leaving as well.”

He stared at her. “He came back. Mr. Elliott, that is, not the prince. I don’t mind telling you, Lady Lydingham, there was something about that man that did not sit well with me. The prince, that is, not Mr. Elliott.”

She stared at him. “He came back?”

“I quite like Mr. Elliott. I should tell you he has offered my wife and me a position.”

Laughter, equal parts hysteria and relief, bubbled up inside her. “Did he now?”

“It was most generous.”

“I’m certain it was.” She grinned. “Whatever Mr. Elliott has offered you, I will offer you more. We will discuss it later. But he is back?”

The actor nodded. “He’s somewhere in the house. Your mother, uncle and Lord and Lady Dunwell are in the dining room. They asked that you be directed there when you came down. Mrs. Fortesque has prepared a late breakfast or rather early luncheon.” He paused. “Your mother sent the others on a walk.”

“I really should find Mr. Elliott.”

“Your mother was quite insistent,” he said firmly.

“Very well, then.”