by Olivia Drake
Unless, of course, he was determined to persuade Lady Ellen.
She was a beautiful girl, and perhaps he’d been anticipating the moment when he could court her in accordance with that long-standing agreement. What had the girl said? It was just some silly old arrangement my papa made with the duke’s father … It wasn’t me they meant for him to marry. It was—
Lady Ellen had never finished the statement. If the arranged-marriage plan hadn’t originally named her as the bride, then who?
As Natalie left the nursery with Leo and Clayton, a wisp of memory stole into her mind. Shortly after befriending Audrey in Philadelphia many years ago, the two of them had been sitting for an afternoon, rolling bandages for a local hospital. While chatting about their lives, Audrey had revealed that the reason she’d run away with her beloved Jeremy was not just that her father opposed the marriage, but that he had tried to force her into a betrothal with a nobleman. She’d wryly said, Can you imagine me, a duchess?
A duchess.
The truth blazed inside Natalie. That nobleman must have been the Duke of Clayton.
Chapter 7
“Your grandfather owns all the surrounding land,” the duke said. “His estate extends as far as your eyes can see.”
Leo knelt on the wide stone sill of the tower window and peered out the wavy glass. He pointed to a spot where the lowering sun glinted off water. “Look! There’s a river!”
“I used to fish in that stream every summer. When it’s warmer, I’ll show you the best spot, at a bend where the trout like to hide among the rocks.”
“Can’t we go and see it right now?”
“It’s too late in the day, brat. And mind you don’t go there alone. Once when I was about your age, I hooked a trout so big that it pulled me into the water and swam away with me holding onto the rod for dear life. I’m lucky I didn’t end up being dragged all the way down the river and into the sea.”
Leo gaped at him. Then he spied the twinkle in the duke’s eyes and giggled. “A fish can’t do that. Except maybe a whale in the ocean.”
“No? My nanny didn’t believe me, either, when I came back with my clothes completely drenched.”
Standing beside them, Natalie had to smile. The Duke of Clayton had displayed a knack for keeping both her and Leo entertained with amusing little anecdotes as they’d trekked through formal drawing rooms, morning rooms, a music room, dining chamber, library, and a huge ballroom with three enormous chandeliers covered in protective cloth. A few minutes ago, they’d climbed up a narrow, winding stone staircase into one of the towers.
If this large circular room had ever been used for defensive purposes in medieval times, that was certainly not its purpose anymore. Now, it had been turned into a storeroom that held a jumble of castoffs: chairs and cabinets, fireplace screens, broken candle lamps, stacks of shrouded paintings, and several old leather trunks.
Leo wiggled off the sill and jumped down to the stone floor. He pointed across the room at one of the trunks. “Can I look in that treasure chest over there, Miss Fanshawe?”
“May I,” Natalie corrected. “And you must ask your grandfather before touching anything. These items don’t belong to us.”
“Was he the man who was frowning at me today?” Leo kicked the toe of his shoe against the floor. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”
His assessment of Lord Godwin broke Natalie’s heart. When she had taken Leo’s identity papers down to the earl’s study earlier, it had been with the intention of arranging a time for him to meet with Leo. She would shame the man into acknowledging him if need be! But Godwin had been closeted with his secretary and had brushed off her request. It was inconceivable to her that the earl could reject his own grandson simply because his daughter had not married according to his dictates. The very thought stirred both her anger and her protective instincts.
She smoothed Leo’s messy hair. “Well, I daresay you must give him some time. He doesn’t yet know you, but he’ll soon come to see you’re a fine boy.” She hoped so, anyway. He must.
Leo appeared satisfied by the answer. He craned his neck to peer up at Clayton. “Will you let me look in the treasure chest, Mr. Duke?”
Clayton waved his hand. “Pray explore to your heart’s content.”
His face alight, Leo darted to the large trunk and tugged at the clasp. The hinges squeaked as he lifted the lid. “Oh, it’s just old clothes. For ladies.”
His nose wrinkled in disgust, he moved on to another trunk and opened it. This one contained a miscellany of discarded objects. With great enthusiasm, he began digging through the items. “Oh, look, a bag of marbles! And a broken clock!”
“There may be something sharp in there,” Natalie warned, “so mind that you don’t poke yourself.”
“I’ll be careful,” Leo said, his voice muffled as he continued to rummage for treasures.
“You needn’t look so fretful,” the duke murmured, stepping to her side. “He’s only doing what all boys do. And if he dirties his clothes, we’re at the end of our tour, anyway.”
Natalie hadn’t realized she was scowling. The truth was, she found it unsettling that Leo had ignored her edict about not looking in the trunks and had turned to the duke for permission. In the space of less than a day, her authority had been usurped by a man who scarcely even knew Leo.
An English duke, no less.
But when she looked at Clayton and saw one corner of his mouth quirked in a slight smile, her prickly mood evolved into something far more dangerous to her composure. She felt the startling desire to experience the brush of those lips on hers, to feel his arms clasping her close to his hard masculine form. The longing was so powerful that a flush of heat spread through her body and weakened her knees.
Nonplussed, Natalie reminded herself to maintain her distance from him. Not only did he represent the old guard of privilege, but their respective countries had been at war only a scant few months ago. “Thank you for the tour,” she replied. “I must say, the size of your cousin’s house is impressive. It’s much larger than even the presidential mansion in Washington. Before the British burned it, that is.”
“That happened last summer, did it not? I read about it in a dispatch.” He gave her an enigmatic stare. “It was retaliation for the Americans destroying the grain mills at Port Dover in Canada and cutting off bread supplies to the British troops.”
She bristled. “Retaliation? God must have been on our side, then. He sent a huge thunderstorm to put out the fires the enemy set in our capital. It drove them all back to their ships.”
If she’d thought to shame him, the duke frustrated her with a grin. “Our nations have made peace, Miss Fanshawe. So perhaps you and I should call a truce, too.”
That grin made him look younger, more approachable, less the snooty nobleman. Against her will, a sheepish smile tugged at her own lips. It would be churlish to cling to old resentments, Natalie supposed. Especially when the duke had proven himself to be a vital ally in protecting Leo in this unfriendly household. For that reason alone, she must court his good will.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “I do beg your pardon.”
One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Can this be the nettlesome Miss Fanshawe? Pray don’t curtsy, too, lest I think you’ve lost all of your spirit.”
“Oh, that will never happen!” Turning away, Natalie strolled to the trunk of garments and picked up a gold-feathered demimask attached to a long stick. She held it to her face and peered impishly at the duke through the eyeholes. “There must have been a masquerade party here once. Perhaps hosted by a previous earl. I cannot imagine the present Lord Godwin unbending enough to don a frivolous costume.”
“Actually, he did hold a masquerade ball,” Clayton mused. “Strange, I’d forgotten about it until just now. It took place shortly after I came to live here.”
As he stepped closer, Natalie lowered the mask to look inquiringly at him. She couldn’t help but notice the unusual dark rim surrou
nding his gray irises. He really had the most captivating eyes, if one could see past that granite hardness. Together with his thick lashes and keen stare, his chiseled features held an allurement that hinted at sin and seduction.
He reached out and took the mask, his fingers brushing against hers. The slight contact raised a flurry of prickles over her skin and made her shiver. She rubbed her arms, pretending to warm them. “There’s a chill in here. It’s these stone walls.”
His cocked eyebrow suggested he saw through her subterfuge and found it amusing. He tossed the mask aside and plucked a gold cape from the trunk, which he arranged around her shoulders. The aroma of lavender sachet wafted to her nose. As did the heady scent of his cologne.
“Come over to the window,” he said. “The sunlight will warm you.”
His hand resting at the base of her spine, he guided her to the spot. The heat of his palm penetrated her more deeply than the sun ever could. It stirred the shocking desire for him to caress her bare skin. Needing a distraction, she stepped away and spun to face him, the cape swirling around her. “Tell me about this costume ball. What do you remember about it?”
The duke’s eyes turned hazy as if he were looking into the past. “I recall peeking down through the balustrade at everyone in their fancy clothes. Aunt Sarah—that’s what I called the first Lady Godwin—came upstairs to give Audrey and me a good-night kiss. She was draped in some sort of white robe with gold trim. And wearing that very cape, too. She looked like an angel.”
Natalie tilted her head to the side. “She was … Audrey’s mother?”
“Yes. Aunt Sarah died in childbirth sometime later, along with the baby. I couldn’t have been much older than Leo, perhaps seven or so. I recall Audrey weeping and there being a weight of sadness in the house.”
The Duke of Clayton had lost his surrogate mother, then, as well as his father. Where had his real mother been? Though intensely curious, Natalie reminded herself it was better to understand the present household. “The earl must have married the second Lady Godwin shortly thereafter.”
He nodded. “I was away at Eton at the time. I came back at the end of my first term and she was here.”
“Eton. That’s a boarding school for boys, is it not?”
“Yes. So, its reputation has carried all the way across the pond, has it?”
Natalie refrained from revealing that her father had attended Eton a very long time ago. It wasn’t necessary for the duke to learn her checkered family history. “Audrey may have mentioned it,” she said offhandedly. “Speaking of her, I’ve been wanting to thank you for supporting Leo today. She would have been very grateful to you for watching out for her son.”
The duke glanced at the boy who was sitting on his heels across the chamber, examining the contents of a small wooden box. “Audrey and I grew up together,” he murmured. “So of course I would help her son. And I suppose in some way, I feel responsible for her departure from England.”
“Why is that?”
“I was at Oxford when she and Godwin had their final quarrel. Had I been here at Oak Knoll, I’d have given my blessing to her marriage.”
“Your blessing? Would that have mattered to the earl?”
“Yes. You see, he’d long intended for a match between Audrey and me. Then she fell in love with our local curate. Jeremy Bellingham was too pious for my taste, but he seemed a decent enough chap. If I’d had the chance to voice my approval, the happy couple might have remained here in England.” He lowered his voice to a rough murmur. “And she might still be alive.”
Natalie judged his regret to be genuine. He had regarded Audrey as a sister, not a potential bride, regardless of the pact between his father and Lord Godwin. So why, then, was he courting Lady Ellen?
Perhaps he felt less of a sibling bond with the much younger girl. They wouldn’t have occupied the nursery together as he had with Audrey. He could view Lady Ellen as merely a lady with the proper noble lineage to suit a man of his high rank.
“Life is full of what-ifs,” she said musingly. “No one could have guessed what would happen. Audrey and Jeremy chose of their own free will to emigrate to America, and they had ten happy years together. They never regretted leaving England.”
Clayton’s mouth twisted as if he couldn’t quite believe that. He stared out the window a moment, the sunlight picking out the caramel strands in his brown hair. When he turned back toward Natalie, she felt the burn of his gaze. “Speaking of Bellingham,” he said, “I can’t claim to know much about his background. Did he have family in England? If things don’t work out with Godwin, would you be able to take Leo to them?”
“Jeremy was an orphan,” she murmured, matching his hushed tone so that Leo wouldn’t overhear. “He was living in a poorhouse when a kind vicar provided him a proper education after spotting his quickness with memorizing Scripture. I don’t believe he had any relatives at all.” Then the implication of what the duke had said struck her. She took a step closer to him and uttered in a harsh whisper, “Do you truly think that Lord Godwin will reject his own grandson? Is he so bitter as that?”
“He’s a proud man with strict notions of propriety. Understandably, he was angry when Audrey defied him to marry beneath her rank.”
“Understandably?” Somehow, it shocked Natalie to hear the duke casually confirm what her father had always said about aristocratic marriages. “Jeremy was a worthy, upright man. This obsession with inherited status is ridiculous.”
“Nevertheless, it’s our tradition in England. We can’t all be upstart rebels like you Americans.”
She mustn’t be distracted by that playful glimmer in his eyes. “If you ask me, Lord Godwin behaved like a tyrant toward Audrey. After meeting him, I can’t understand why she made me promise to bring Leo back here.”
“Perhaps because she knew her father hadn’t always been so hostile. At one time, he’d doted on Audrey. She had a happy childhood here, all in all.”
“A doting father doesn’t forsake his beloved daughter. If he was truly attached to her, he would have made an effort to contact her after she left.”
The duke shrugged. “We knew she’d emigrated to America, but not where. For that matter, why did she not write? She certainly knew where to find him.”
“He’d cut her out of his life, that’s why. He said that if she married against his wishes, she was no longer his daughter.”
“As I said, her departure hurt Godwin deeply. He became colder, more withdrawn and unforgiving. He forbade us even to speak her name.”
Natalie clenched her fingers around the fine cape. Having had a loving father herself, she found the earl’s behavior reprehensible. “Well, none of this is Leo’s fault. It isn’t right that the earl should spurn his own flesh and blood.”
If anything, that only made Clayton’s face turn grim. Seeming to weigh his answer, he glanced across the tower room toward Leo, who was still busy delving for treasures. Then his troubled eyes seared into hers. “I hesitate to tell you this, Miss Fanshawe. But you deserve to know the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Yes. The situation is more complicated than you realize. You see, my cousin suspects you of being … a trickster.”
“What?” Of all the things he might have said, nothing could have startled her more. “I don’t understand. How so?”
“It has been suggested that Leo is not really Audrey’s son. That upon meeting her in America, you devised a scheme to inveigle yourself into a noble household. That perhaps Leo is your son—and you hope to gain an inheritance for him by means of fraud.”
In the throes of shock, Natalie gaped at the duke. His piercing gaze seemed to be gauging her reaction, and he looked every inch the despotic aristocrat. It dawned on her that after she’d left his family at midday in the drawing room, the duke, along with his cousins, must have dissected her character. And they had judged her to be capable of felonious conduct.
Bile rising in her throat, she took a step backward, bumping
into the stone wall. “Don’t tell me you accept this nonsense, too! Why, Leo doesn’t even look like me.”
“That’s precisely what I told them. Godwin has summoned his solicitor from London to examine the boy’s papers, so the issue should be resolved shortly. And for pity’s sake, I never said that I believed it.” He closed the distance between them and grasped her hand, his fingers warm and firm around hers. “I’m on your side, Natalie. You can trust in me.”
Could she trust him? She’d be a fool to do so. No doubt the nobility closed ranks at a perceived threat and repelled any attempt to breach the walls of their exalted status. As one of the elite, the powerful Duke of Clayton would pledge his loyalty to them, not to her or to an orphaned boy.
Yet his touch on her skin caused a treacherous softening inside her. As did the throaty sound of her name on his lips. He oughtn’t address her with such familiarity, but she couldn’t bring herself to correct him. Not when she had the most absurd notion that he wanted to kiss her. Those deep gray eyes tempted her with all the allure of a wizard’s enchantment …
“Miss Fanshawe, Miss Fanshawe!”
Leo’s voice broke the spell. The thread of woefulness in his tone awakened her maternal instincts with a jolt. Whirling around, she spied his small form standing by the wall at the other end of the circular room. An unusually solemn look on his face, he beckoned to her.
Natalie’s first thought was alarm that he’d injured himself. There were a hundred ways he could have come to harm among these broken castoffs. And she had let herself be distracted by a handsome man.
She rushed to his side, weaving a path through the discards. “What is it, darling? Are you bleeding?”
His blue eyes like saucers, he shook his head, mutely pointing at a stack of framed paintings leaning against the wall. He had pulled the linen shroud off the first one. Since the canvas backing faced outward, Natalie turned the large, cumbersome picture around so that she could view whatever had disturbed him. And she sustained another jolt.
