by Olivia Drake
Giles went out to inform her coachman to return in an hour or two, then they all proceeded into a tiny dining chamber and sat around a table covered by threadbare linen that was darned in several spots. Luncheon consisted of a platter of cold meats and cheeses, sliced wafer-thin, with bread cut so transparent that Natalie fancied she could see right through it. It was painfully obvious that her family had stretched their meager rations to include their honored guest, and she was careful to keep her portions small.
Try as she might, she had trouble tilting the conversation in favor of her objective. While asking questions about her life in the United States, they pointed out how much more civilized England was, where a lucky lady might wed a duke and live in luxury. When prevailing on her to describe the décor of Clayton House, including the nursery, they were quick to say that Leo wouldn’t care to give up his many toys. Besides, the duke was bound to oppose his little cousin’s being taken away and forced to live in cramped quarters.
That particular point did worry Natalie. Hadrian was fond of Leo and would object to his departure. But at present, she was the boy’s guardian at the dying request of his mother and she was prepared to battle the duke if necessary.
Over a dessert that consisted of minuscule servings of rice pudding, she answered their many queries about Hadrian and his mother. Not wanting to fib too much, she strove to make them sound extremely elegant and toplofty, far out of the league of a provincial American. But her relatives only seemed to find those qualities natural and admirable in those of a ducal rank.
“I do wish you’d stop calling yourself rustic,” Doris said earnestly. “You’re as charming and lovely a lady as I’ve ever seen.”
“The duke would be fortunate to win your hand,” Giles avowed, looking half in love with her himself.
“I have no dowry,” Natalie said bluntly, in an attempt to bring them back down to earth. “He’ll wed a wealthy heiress, just as his father did in marrying the present duchess.”
“Clayton is one of the richest men in England, so he can afford to follow his heart,” Sir Basil said. His lips curved in a reminiscing smile. “Speaking of the present duchess, did you know that I courted her a long time ago, when she was plain Miss Millicent Jones? Alas, her papa was holding out for a fancier title than a mere baronet.”
“Actually, she did mention it—” Natalie stopped short upon seeing a shrewd interest light up her grandfather’s face.
“Did she, now?” He snapped his fingers. “By Jove, that puts me in a mind to call on Millie and renew our acquaintance. And there’s no time like the present. Yes, I do believe I shall accompany you back to Clayton House!”
* * *
Her plans in shambles, Natalie returned to the ducal mansion with Sir Basil. Her father had always said that his sire was a quixotic man, prone to impulsiveness and romanticism, and now she could see that side of him. He seemed a bit of a schemer, as well. Once he’d settled on the idea of visiting his old flame, there had been no dissuading him.
“Her Grace may be out,” she warned as they stood in the entrance hall, waiting for the footman to return. “Or perhaps she won’t want visitors.”
“Bah. I might be twenty years her senior, but Millie always did have a soft spot for me.” Sir Basil looked confident and dashing for an elderly man, his cane more a fashion statement than a necessity, as he craned his neck to view the splendor of the vast room. “Look at this place! Imagine yourself mistress of it all!”
She’d be a mistress, all right, if ever she succcumbed to temptation. Then an even more unsettling thought struck her. “Grandpapa, promise you won’t mortify me by hinting to her of a match with the duke.”
“My dear girl, I wasn’t born yesterday,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Such matters require finesse. You may be certain I shan’t ruin your chances.”
His words didn’t exactly reassure her. She fervently prayed that the duchess would be unavailable, but her hopes were dashed a few minutes later, when the footman came back to say that Her Grace would receive them. As they mounted the stairs, Natalie was half tempted to escape to the nursery. But she needed to be present in case it became necessary to avert disaster.
They proceeded down an ornate corridor, through an arched doorway, and into an immense chamber tastefully decorated in gold and blue, with gilt furnishings and priceless artwork. As the footman announced them, Natalie noticed several ladies sitting with Her Grace, along with Lady Elizabeth.
And there, in the thick of them, was Hadrian.
He arose from his chair, his gaze honed on her. He looked so perilously attractive in his charcoal-gray suit and white cravat that her insides curled into a tangled knot. Was he, too, remembering the scandalous intimacy they’d shared the previous day? Under the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes, she felt a clench of desire so strong that it left her breathless.
She hadn’t expected to find him here, entertaining callers. In fact, she had little knowledge of day-to-day life in a grand ducal household. Had she committed a blunder by bringing her grandfather here without permission?
But Hadrian could not have been more cordial. Stepping forward, he bowed. “Miss Fanshawe, Sir Basil, welcome. Do come and join us.”
As they followed him toward the others, Natalie slid a glance at her grandfather to see him waggle his white eyebrows at her as if to convey his approval of the duke. A flush crept up her neck, and she sent a warning frown back at him. Unfortunately, he had turned his attention to Hadrian’s mother.
Her plump form draped in a bronze-green gown, the duchess sat on a chaise with one hand pressed to her magnificent bosom and her pet spaniel nestled in her lap. “My stars! Is it truly you, Basil?”
He swept a courtly bow and then took her other hand, reverently kissing the back. “Indeed so, Your Grace. I’m happy to see that the years have only added luster to your beauty.”
“And I see that you haven’t lost your skill at blarney.” To her other guests, she said, “You must forgive us. We are old friends.”
“Old?” Sir Basil objected. “Perhaps I am, but not you, Your Grace. Why, I can only think you must have drunk from the fabled fountain of youth.”
The duchess giggled. “Flatterer. Pray call me Millie, as you were always wont to do. Now, sit down and we shall catch up on decades of news.”
When she patted the place beside her on the chaise, Sir Basil seated himself there with alacrity, earning a smile from Her Grace for scratching the spaniel’s ears and proclaiming him to be the handsomest dog in all England. Natalie took a chair in between them and Lady Elizabeth, partly because she liked Hadrian’s sister, and partly because she wanted to be close enough to eavesdrop, ready to intervene if her grandfather strayed onto forbidden topics.
The three visiting ladies regarded him with a skeptical curiosity, and she wondered if the elder one would remember the thirty-year-old scandal about how Sir Basil had been drummed out of society for nonpayment of gambling debts.
Toward her, they exuded a distinct note of hostility, despite their polite smiles as Hadrian made the introductions. Arrayed in high style, Lady Birdsall had come with her daughters, Lady Cora and Lady Eugenie. The two were so remarkably alike in their blue-eyed blondness that Natalie would have thought them twins had not their mother mentioned that Cora had made her bows the previous season, while Eugenie would do so this year.
As the other ladies monopolized Hadrian’s attention for a moment, Lizzy leaned closer, her eyes sparkling as she examined Natalie’s gown. “Stunning,” she murmured. “The gold suits your coloring far better than mine.”
Natalie felt guilty for her initial rejection of the gowns. “Forgive me for not properly thanking you yesterday. I was too bowled over by your generosity.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really! My maid will be bringing more soon.” Lizzy rubbed her gently rounded midsection. “Oh, but I do envy your slender figure.”
“You’ll regain yours soon enough,” Natalie consoled, wondering if she’d ever exp
erience the miracle of bearing her own baby. Her gaze inexplicably strayed to Hadrian, only to find him watching her, and she looked hastily back at his sister. “And the end result will be well worth any discomfort.”
“That’s what Wrenbury always reminds me,” Lizzy said with a sigh. “Three months to go yet. The trouble is, I’ve never been very good at waiting.”
“Whatever are you two whispering about, Lady Wrenbury?” Lady Birdsall called out, a brittle smile on her hawklike features. “Do share it with us.”
“I was speaking of babies, and how dreadfully long they take to make their appearance.”
Lady Cora and Lady Eugenie twittered and blushed, apparently unaccustomed to hearing talk of the natural functions of a woman’s body.
Even Lady Birdsall appeared disconcerted for a moment. “Well! Speaking of children, I was intrigued to hear a rumor that His Grace has adopted a little orphaned boy.”
“I told you the gossip would spread like wildfire, Hadrian,” Lizzy teased. “It’s so unlike the very proper Duke of Clayton to take in strays.”
Proper? Natalie remembered thinking of him that way at first. But no more. He was captivating, seductive, able to tempt a woman into sin with one smoldering look … like the one he was directing at her right now.
Thankfully, he returned his gaze to the others. “Leo is hardly a stray. He’s our second cousin, once removed. As for adopting him, I haven’t as yet.”
As yet. That might happen when he married Lady Ellen. Or perhaps another lady like Cora or Eugenie. Natalie clenched her teeth, telling herself it was concern for Leo’s uncertain future that caused her inner turmoil.
“Miss Fanshawe, you must be governess to the boy, since you accompanied him here from the States,” Lady Birdsall said. “It’s very generous of His Grace to give you time off from your duties to sit with us.”
The snide note in the woman’s voice irritated Natalie. Lady Birdsall seemed to be fishing for information as to Natalie’s place in the household.
“Actually, I’m Leo’s guardian,” she said. “His mother was a dear friend of mine. She and her husband were slain in a bloody massacre, and as she lay dying in my arms, she begged me to bring Leo to his family here in England.”
The ladies looked aghast at her blunt description. But she wouldn’t retract a word. It was the truth, and she had even withheld the disturbing fact that it had been British soldiers who had committed the atrocity.
“Merciful heavens,” Lady Birdsall huffed. “Clayton, will you permit her to speak of such violence before these innocent young ears? Only look at how she’s horrified my sweet, lovely daughters.”
Everyone turned toward the girls. Despite their suitably shocked expressions, Lady Cora and Lady Eugenie appeared be enjoying the attention. They made little moues of distress and batted their lashes at Hadrian.
Natalie had been debating whether their hostility toward her had stemmed from her neglecting to curtsy to them, or simply because she was an American and not of their world. Now, the real reason dawned on her. Lady Birdsall viewed her as competition for her daughters in winning the duke’s favor. Nothing could be more ludicrous!
“Miss Fanshawe risked her life to save Leo,” Hadrian said. “I would rather advise the young ladies to admire her bravery.”
His cultured tone bore a hint of steel that silenced Lady Birdsall. She pursed her lips and slid a telling glance at her daughters.
“Hear, hear!” Sir Basil said, his fingers wrapped around the silver fob of his cane. “I was just enumerating my granddaughter’s many fine qualities to Millie. Few young ladies would have the pluck to cross an ocean in order to fulfill a promise to a dying friend.”
“We are delighted to have her as our guest,” the duchess added with a fond smile at Natalie. “My dear, you must never, ever feel that you aren’t welcome in our home.”
“Not welcome,” the duke repeated with a frown.
“A mere misunderstanding, Clayton,” Sir Basil said smoothly. “Natalie expressed a desire to reside with me since she feared she was imposing on your good will. But Millie has kindly assured me that is not the case.”
“I see.”
The keen stare that Hadrian turned on Natalie made her want to squirm. She’d been so anxious that her grandfather would blurt out his marriage scheme that she hadn’t even considered he might reveal her plan to leave Clayton House.
Not that she’d done anything wrong.
She coolly met the duke’s gaze. He must know that her purpose had been to put an end to the temptation they posed to one another. And now that her plan had been thwarted, the question was, what would be his next move?
She subdued a quiver of anticipation.
Chapter 20
Natalie didn’t find out the answer until two days later.
At ten o’clock in the morning, she headed downstairs with Leo, having received a note from Hadrian, written in bold black script and delivered by a footman. The message had been specific on the time, but vague on details. She knew only that they were to dress for an outing.
The prospect of an excursion to an unknown destination stirred a thrill in her. It wouldn’t be wise to examine how much of her eagerness was due to a desire to see Hadrian. Though she’d expected him to confront her about the attempt to live with her grandfather, she hadn’t laid eyes on him since then.
In the interim, Natalie had avoided venturing anywhere in the house where she might encounter the duke. Most of her time had been spent in the schoolroom, where she’d devoted herself to teaching Leo his lessons, taking her meals there, and befriending the two nursemaids, Flora and Tippy.
The duchess and Lizzy had come to the nursery the previous morning, and she’d enjoyed a nice long chat with them, too, while Lizzy’s son, Finny, played with Leo. She’d reluctantly turned down their invitation to join them for luncheon and also nixed their plan for her to attend a society event. Although she was intensely curious about Hadrian’s world, she knew that in order to survive the coming weeks, it was better to behave as a governess, not a guest.
Clinging to her hand, Leo hopped down from step to step on the curved staircase in the entrance hall. “Listen to my feet echo, Miss Fanshawe.”
“You sound like a big bear tramping through the woods.”
“I am a bear. Grr.”
“Beware, James,” she called out to the young footman on duty. “There’s a bear on the loose.”
A grin twitched as he opened the front door. “So I see, miss. Best to let the wild beast outside, then.”
With Leo still growling, they stepped out onto the portico. Her gaze immediately veered to Hadrian, who was standing beside an open carriage parked on the circular drive. He was inspecting the wheels while a groom held the pair of horses.
Her heart cavorted within the confines of her corset. The duke was the model of the dashing man-about-town in an iron-gray coat, fawn breeches, and glossy black boots. His hat was set at a jaunty angle on brown hair that looked as rich as caramel in the sunshine.
Her knees felt in danger of melting, for the mere sight of him brought back the memory of that dazzling intimacy. Perhaps she ought not to have come, after all. Perhaps she should have sent Flora to accompany the boy.
Abandoning his bear persona, Leo pulled his hand from her grasp and scampered down the marble steps. “Mr. Duke! Mr. Duke! Are you taking us for a ride in your carriage?”
Hadrian caught him by the waist and swung him up onto the seat. “Indeed, I am, brat. Now sit very quietly lest you startle the horses.”
Only then did Natalie take closer notice of the sleek phaeton with its ebony body and gilded wheels. Its lightweight construction suggested it was designed for racing, and the single seat stood alarmingly high off the ground.
She made haste to Hadrian’s side. “Is he safe up there alone?”
“He won’t be alone for long. May I?”
The question was mere pretense as Hadrian fastened his hands around her waist and brought her clo
ser so that her bosom brushed the solid wall of his chest. She tilted her head back to look at him. The gleam in those smoky-gray eyes made her giddy, and she was startled by the beguiling thought that he meant to kiss her right there in front of any passersby.
Even more startling, she wanted him to do so. The craving burned in the depths of her body and thrummed in her blood.
She was half disappointed when he did nothing of the sort. Tightening his fingers, he boosted her onto the high perch to sit beside Leo. As Hadrian bounded up and took the reins, she was keenly aware of his side pressing into her. She promptly moved Leo in between them.
“You’ll be safer here,” she told the boy.
“So will you,” Hadrian murmured. “Especially as you’re looking exceptionally pretty today. The green is a perfect match for your eyes.”
A devilish smile lurked at the corners of his mouth, and she found her own lips curving up, too. If only he knew, she’d twirled in front of the mirror this morning, admiring the Pomona-green gown with its matching pelisse and trying not to feel guilty at the expensive gift from his sister. “Why, thank you.”
She turned her head away, hoping the brim of her straw bonnet hid the warmth in her cheeks. It was clear that he had not given up on charming her. Imprudent as it was, she felt an acute interest to learn his next maneuver.
Hadrian deftly guided the phaeton onto the street, and the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves lulled her nerves. Proceeding past the square with its tall plane trees, they saw only two other carriages, but once on the main road, they encountered all manner of vehicles, from wagons to chaises to cabs.
“Can I—may I drive?” Leo begged, perched on the edge of the seat.
Hadrian cast an indulgent glance at him. “Not here, brat, there’s too much traffic. But once we reach Hyde Park, you may help me.”
Hyde Park. So that was their mysterious destination. She’d glimpsed the vast green space on the last leg of their journey into London, and it seemed the perfect place to go on such a fine, sunny day. In fact, she hadn’t realized until this moment what a gloriously beautiful morning it was, with a mild breeze blowing and the promise of spring in the air.
