Add that to the fact that Pruzinsky watched Camille with a look that was part speculation and part possession. Studied her, really, as if he was trying to determine . . . what? How best to seduce her? If he hadn’t already. Gray pushed the thought from his head. It was none of his concern, really. And why wouldn’t the prince wish to seduce her? Why wouldn’t any man?

Camille was as lovely now as she had been when he had last seen her. Certainly, the twins had always been pretty in that blond-haired, blue-eyed, classic-English-beauty way. But Camille had been a girl when they’d parted; now she was very much a woman. One could see that in the set of her chin and the look in her eye. There was a strength about her now; there was a confidence and grace that had come with the passage of years. This was not a woman who would marry a man because she was expected to do so. This was a woman who knew her own mind.

How could she not know she had broken his heart?

“The Alps meander through several countries, Lady Briston,” the prince said. “Are you speaking of the Italian Alps or the Swiss Alps or the German Alps?”

“A mountain’s a mountain, I say.” Henderson nodded. “Unless you’re speaking of the Himalayas. Why, I recall an expedition when I was . . .”

The actor was well worth whatever Camille was paying him. Once he launched into one of his tales, no one else could get a word in. Which meant no one could make a mistake. It was entirely possible Camille might be able to pull off her charade. Of course, as she herself had pointed out: it was only the first day.

When the final course was cleared, Mrs. Montgomery-Wells rose to her feet; the gentlemen following suit. “Now then,” she announced in what was obviously her best lady-of-the-manor voice. “The ladies shall retire to the parlor and leave the gentlemen to their brandy and cigars.”

“Excellent idea, Aunt Bernadette,” Gray said. If he could keep Henderson from monopolizing the conversation, he could use this opportunity to find out more about Pruzinsky. “We shall join you shortly.”

“Nonsense, Cousin,” Camille said quickly. “There’s no need to be so formal. We are at home, after all. Why don’t we all adjourn to the parlor? Besides, Mother, you haven’t allowed cigars in the dining room since Father was alive.”

Confusion furrowed Mrs. Montgomery-Wells’s forehead. “I haven’t?”

“No, Mother.” Camille fixed her with a firm look. “The smell makes you sneeze.”

“I had no idea,” the older woman murmured.

“But brandy is permitted,” Henderson said in a hopeful tone.

“It always is, Uncle. My goodness, we are all so forgetful tonight.” Beryl took his arm and started to lead him away from the table. “Why don’t we all gather around the piano and sing Christmas carols.”