Still, one could tell a great deal about a couple by simple observation. The way they might lean toward each other, or the casual touch of a hand, or the manner in which their eyes met. He didn’t trust Pruzinsky one bit. But Camille was an intelligent woman and one couldn’t help but wonder exactly what it would take to make certain she didn’t trust the prince as well.

“What a lovely evening, Camille.” Nikolai gazed down at her. “Your family is delightful.”

“They can, as well, be a bit . . .” She searched for the right word. “Eccentric, perhaps.”

He chuckled. “No more so than mine. Your mother reminds me very much of an aunt of mine.” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “She, too, has a tendency to forget her own name.”

“Oh, dear.” Camille winced. “You noticed that, did you?”

“Even with my inability to completely grasp the nuances of the English language, it was hard to miss. Although such things are to be expected in the elderly.”

Good Lord. If her mother knew she was being thought of as elderly, there would be hell to pay. With any luck, she would never know.

“I find those little quirks to be quite charming.”

“My mother is nothing if not charming.” Which was entirely true, regardless of whether she was speaking of the real Lady Briston or the actress playing her.

“Camille.” He gazed into her eyes, took her hand and raised it to his lips. “We have much to discuss, you and I.”

“Do we,” she said lightly.

“Indeed, we do.” He turned her hand over and kissed her palm in a manner that should have sent shivers up her spine. Yet, it did nothing more than tickle. Not at all what she expected. Surely, the last time he had kissed her hand, she had shivered. Hadn’t she? “I must confess, I have given the question of the two of us much consideration.”

“Oh?”

“I have thought of little else since the moment we met.” He chuckled, then sobered. “I have long believed in fate. That our futures lie in the hands of forces more powerful than ourselves. And fate cannot be denied.” His gaze searched hers. “A beautiful woman fell into my arms and it seemed no less than fate. No less than what I had been waiting for all my life.”

For once, words failed her. She stared up at him.

“It is not often one meets one’s dreams come true.”

“Goodness, Nikolai.” She laughed softly. “You shall quite turn my head with talk like that.”

“Excellent.” He lowered her hand but continued to keep it firmly clasped in his. “As it is such a lovely head.” He paused. “The addition of a crown would only make it lovelier.”

“And yet”—she raised a shoulder in a casual shrug—“I have no crown.”

“Perhaps that can be remedied.”