“Yes, I was born in Philadelphia.”

“And you are the temporary guardian of a six-year-old boy named”—he paused to consult a paper—“Leopold Jeremy Bellingham.”

“Indeed I am. Leo is the son of my late friends, Jeremy and Audrey Bellingham.” She decided it wise to emphasize, “Lady Audrey was Lord Godwin’s eldest daughter.”

“Have you any proof of that?”

“Proof? The earl may have disowned her, but he cannot deny her very existence.”

Musgrave looked down his nose at her again, the glasses magnifying his squinty brown eyes. “I meant, have you proof that the woman you knew in America was in fact his lordship’s daughter?”

Natalie bristled. “Of course she was Audrey. Shall I relate what she told me of her father tossing her out of this house for marrying a commoner? And how else would I have known to bring her son here? But if you desire evidence, then allow me to say that she was the same woman depicted in the portrait that was consigned to the tower storage room here at Oak Knoll.”

Lord Godwin had been sitting in his chair, listening, but now he planted his palms on the surface of the desk and half rose to his feet. “Who gave you leave to go snooping? You and the boy were to remain in the nursery.”

“I wasn’t snooping.”

“She was with me,” Hadrian said, stepping forward to coolly address the earl. “On their first day here, I took Miss Fanshawe and Leo on a tour of the house. Leo spotted the portrait and recognized his mother at once.”

Lord Godwin sank back down. “And you’re quite sure of that?”

“It’s the truth,” Natalie reiterated. “Leo would never have mistaken the identity of his own mother.”

Musgrave tilted his head up to address Hadrian, who loomed over him, all impressive, imperious duke. “Your Grace, I feel compelled to ask, when the portrait was discovered, is it possible that Miss Fanshawe had a few moments alone with the boy, long enough to whisper in his ear?”

Natalie gripped her fingers around the folds of her skirt in an attempt to contain a surge of anger. How dare he imply that she had coached Leo to lie. But of course, the solicitor was merely looking out for the earl’s interests. It had been on that day in the tower room, just before they’d found the portrait, that Hadrian had warned her of the family’s suspicions.

When Hadrian didn’t immediately reply, she said in her chilliest tone, “I beg your pardon, Mr. Musgrave. I would never instruct a child to tell a falsehood. And I resent you calling my character into question.”

“Miss Fanshawe has every right to be offended,” Hadrian said. “Leo’s reaction to the painting was that of a grieving boy for his mother. I’ve no reason to believe his demeanor was anything other than genuine.”

Natalie appreciated his support. But he also had hesitated for a few seconds, long enough to cast the doubt that she could see in the earl’s narrowed eyes. When Leo had discovered the painting, she had rushed ahead to comfort the boy in his distress. However, Hadrian surely knew that nothing deceptive had occurred. Didn’t he?