“It must be difficult, with a new butler, that is. And the entire family here for Christmas.”

“You have no idea.” And getting more difficult every minute. “But Fortesque is very well trained.” She smiled in what she hoped was a pleasant manner. He had delivered his aunt’s basket—what was he still doing here? “Again, do thank your aunt for me.”

“Oh, I will.” He studied her coolly. The man obviously had no intention of leaving.

“As you said, it is a bit awkward to have a new butler at this time of year. There does seem to be an endless list of things that need to be attended to, with the entire family in residence and all. I’m sure that you are busy as well, so I won’t keep you—”

“Ah yes, the whole family you say?”

She nodded.

“Your mother and Colonel Channing, your sisters and Beryl’s husband?”

“Yes, yes, that’s everyone.” Impatience edged her voice. The last thing she needed at this moment was to deal with the distant past in the guise of Grayson Elliott. The present was entirely too complicated already. “Although Lionel, Lord Dunwell, is engaged in town and won’t be arriving until Christmas Eve.”

“I see. But your mother and uncle and sisters—”

“Yes, yes, all of them,” she snapped. “Now, if there is nothing—”

“It’s been a long time, Camille.”

She deliberately misunderstood him. Now was not the time. “Indeed, it’s been entirely too long since we have all been at Millworth Manor for Christmas, and we are quite looking forward to it. However, I have a great deal to—”

“I met your mother.” His gaze bored into hers.

Her breath caught. “Did you?”

“A few minutes ago.” He smiled. “She’s changed.”

There was no way to explain Mrs. Montgomery-Wells. Best to simply pretend complete and utter ignorance. She usually did that very well. “As have we all.” She shrugged. “It’s been eleven years since you were last in this house, after all. People change, but life goes on. I daresay, nothing is as it used to be.”

He laughed.

She narrowed her gaze. “What do you find so amusing?”

“I met your sister as well.”

“Beryl?” she said hopefully.

“No, Delilah.”

She winced. “Oh.”

“What is going on here, Camille?”

“Christmas?”

His brow rose.

“It’s complicated, Grayson, and it’s none of your concern.” She huffed. “Now, if you would be so good as to take your leave.” She gestured at the door. “I would be most appreciative.”

“Oh, I think not.” He sauntered, sauntered, over to the fireplace, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the mantel in a most arrogant manner. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She widened her eyes. “Why not?”

“Not until you tell me what’s afoot here.”