“Oh, you might be interested to know”—Grayson picked up a plate and continued to consider the breakfast offerings—“your footmen are in the upstairs gallery practicing sword fighting for the theater. From a book.”

“How delightful.” She grimaced. “I shall summon Fortesque to take care of it.”

“Fortesque was reading the book to the others.” He selected a few slices of bacon and put them on his plate.

She glared. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

Grayson glanced at her in surprise. “I offered them advice.”

“What? On how not to kill one another?”

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Grayson!”

“I was trying to be helpful. I thought it might be awkward to have dead actors, or dead footmen, for that matter, lying about the house.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She huffed. “I meant you should have stopped them.”

“It’s really not my place to do so. I am merely the distant cousin, a very minor role. Why, if this were a play of murder and treachery, I would no doubt be the first one done away with.”

“That can yet be arranged.”

He considered her for a moment. “It’s rather early in the day to be quite so cranky, isn’t it?”

“I am not cranky.” Indignation rang in her voice. “If anything, I am tired.”

“I see.” He nodded in a sage manner. “You didn’t sleep well.”

“I slept exceptionally well,” she lied.

“All that pining, no doubt.”

“Pining?” She stared at him, then uttered a short laugh. “You were right, Grayson, there is much about this situation that is amusing.” She moved to the table and sat down.

“I didn’t mean me,” he said wryly, and took the seat across the table from her. “But I am surprised to see you up and about so early. I didn’t expect to see anyone down yet.”

“I have a great deal to accomplish today,” she said in a prim manner. “As soon as Beryl makes an appearance, I intend to go up to the attic and find the ornaments for the tree.”

“If she doesn’t come down before you’re finished with breakfast, I could assist you with that,” he said casually.

“Would you?”

“I would be happy to.”

“Really?”

“You needn’t look so suspicious. I said last night that I intended to help you, and I meant it.” He stabbed a piece of bacon much more viciously than the bacon deserved. Apparently, he found her as annoying as she found him. Good.

“Very well, then.” Camille wasn’t at all sure if she wanted his help or not, but she did want to get as much as possible finished before Nikolai and her “family” made an appearance. She had no desire to leave them all to their own devices. God only knew what might happen without constant supervision. “I accept your offer. And I appreciate it,” she added reluctantly.

“Do try not to sound so gracious.”