Camille shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

“We had quite an interesting conversation.”

“She has always been good at small talk.” Camille forced an offhand note to her voice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t describe this as ‘small talk’ or idle chatter,” he said coolly. “Indeed, she was most informative.”

Camille’s heart sank. “Oh?”

“Yes, you see, she thought I was here to audition for a role she was unaware of.”

“Really?” She widened her eyes in feigned surprise. “How very odd.”

“I thought so, at first.” He studied her intently. “Until, of course, she explained that Lady Lydingham had hired actors to play her family for Christmas.”

“She said all that, did she?” Camille said weakly.

He nodded. “Apparently, to impress a prince.”

She stared at him for a moment, then stood. “Well, that’s it, then. You know it all. Now you can leave.”

“Who is this prince?” he said in a stern manner.

“That, too, is none of your concern.”

“Camille.” His tone eased. “I’m not leaving until you tell me everything.”

“You know everything.”

He studied her, determination in the very lines of his body. It had been a long time, but she recognized his resolute manner.

“If that’s the only way to get rid of you . . .” She blew a resigned breath. “He is Prince Nikolai Pruzinsky, of the Kingdom of . . . Oh, I can’t recall—”

“Ah yes, lovely place,” he murmured.

She cast him a scathing glance and continued. “He longs for a traditional English Christmas. I still don’t see why, but he is foreign and he’s read any number of English Christmas stories, and, well, you understand.”

Grayson’s forehead furrowed. “Not entirely.”

“He expects, as well, a proper English family, and I intend to give it to him. As my family has never been what one might call proper, in the strict definition of the word—”

He snorted.

“It seemed to me, as Mother, Delilah and Uncle Basil are out of the country, anyway, hiring actors to play my family for Christmas was a rather brilliant idea.”

His brow arched upward.

“I intend to make this Christmas with my family—”

“Your bought-and-paid-for family?”

She ignored him. “All he has ever thought it would be.” She hesitated. She might as well tell him everything. The damnable man wouldn’t be satisfied until she did. And they had never lied to each other, not really. “And, while he is here, I fully expect him to propose.”

“You love him, then.” His resigned gaze met hers.

“I don’t . . . not love him.”

“Do you love him or don’t you?”

She huffed. “Once again, Grayson, this is none of—”

“None of my concern. Yes, yes, I know.” His tone hardened. “Tell me, Camille. Do you love him or not?”