“Well”—he glanced from side to side as though concerned he might be overheard—“all of them think they are.” He held out his hand to her.

She accepted it and rose to her feet. She studied him for a moment, then surrendered. Regardless of anything else, she preferred he not think of her as stiff and stodgy. She used to be great fun and still was, when she wasn’t busy orchestrating a perfect Christmas with a hired family for the prince whom she probably no longer intended to marry.

“Even those like”—she nodded discreetly toward a corner of the attic—“Lord SuchandSuch. He passed portly some time ago and has only a few teeth.”

“He thinks it makes him look like a pasha.”

“And Mr. Whoeverheis?”

“The one who is so short that his nose practically rests in your bosom when you dance?”

She choked back a laugh. “Grayson!”

“Oh, he most certainly thinks he’s dashing.” He peered around her as if looking past her through a crowd of guests. “And then, of course, there’s the foreign prince.”

“There usually are at these things.” She shrugged.

“Handsome devil, though.”

“Always at balls of this sort.”

He nodded somberly. “Grand.”

“Imaginary.”

“So . . . the handsome prince, very blond, no taller than I.” He glanced at her for confirmation.

She nodded.

“Charming as well. Everything one could want in a prince. One might even say ‘perfect.’ ”

Nikolai really was perfect, all in all. Such a pity. She sighed. “Indeed he is.”

“Well, then,” Grayson said after a long pause. He swept a theatrical bow. “May I have the honor of this dance, Miss Channing?”

“Grayson, I—”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but it was at your first ball, very much like this one, that I had the honor of being your very first dance partner.”

“Of course I remember. I also remember it was only because your aunt made you.”

“Not at all,” he said indignantly. “My aunt made me attend dance lessons here with you and Beryl because your mother had hired a dance master. I’m not sure how Win ever learned to dance, as he was unfailingly absent.” He opened his arms. “Now, will you dance with me or not?”

She hesitated. Why not? “I should be delighted.” She took his hand and rested her free hand on his shoulder. “I do hope you are better at it now.”

“I would have to be.” He started to waltz her around the open center area of the attic. “Aside from that one note, they do play well, don’t they?”

“I have always loved this waltz.”

“I remember.”

“You can’t possibly know what waltz is in my head.”

“The ‘Vienna Blood Waltz,’ of course. It was always your favorite.”

“You do seem to remember a great deal.”

“Ah yes, a blessing and a curse.”

“A curse?”

He smiled and started to hum the music.