“Oh, my dear boy, do assure me there is no betrothal. Your note was entirely too brief.”

“There is no betrothal … yet.”

Natalie felt his gaze flick toward her, though she didn’t know quite what to make of it. Was he warning her not to say anything of his courtship of Lady Ellen?

His mother sighed in relief and let go of him to fan her face with a piece of striped paper. “Bless me! I never understood how you could wish to marry a girl who is scarcely out of the schoolroom, one you haven’t seen in years. Especially the daughter of such a man—”

“We’ll speak of this later,” Hadrian said firmly. “First, Duchess, may I present cousin Audrey’s son, Leo Bellingham, who has been delivered here from the wilds of America by Miss Natalie Fanshawe.”

The spaniel hopped into the duchess’s lap, and she stroked him with her beringed fingers while turning her regal attention to Natalie and Leo. Solemnly studying them both, the duchess seemed a curious mix of formidable and approachable, and Natalie had to squelch the surprising impulse to genuflect.

Perhaps that explained at least part of the reason why people curtsied and bowed. It gave them something to do while being inspected.

As if they’d passed muster, a smile warmed the duchess’s face. “Welcome to Clayton House. Pray sit down and we’ll have a cozy chat.” She waited while Natalie and Hadrian found chairs, then told Natalie, “I’ve been on pins and needles since receiving my son’s note yesterday. Men can be such terse letter writers, can’t they? They gloss over the most important details. And I must say, Miss Fanshawe, I’m surprised he never mentioned you to be such a strikingly lovely young woman.”

Embarrassed by the compliment, Natalie glanced away to see Lizzy cast a measuring look at her brother, who in turn observed the scene with his usual cool hauteur. “I—thank you,” she said. “I’m sure the duke had more important things on his mind. Leo, for instance.”

The duchess smiled at Leo. “Such an adorable little boy! Come closer, darling, and you may pet Orlando. I am a sort of cousin to you by marriage, did you know? You may call me Auntie Millie.”

Leo trotted forward and patted the dog in her lap, giggling when the animal licked his chin. “That tickles! Can I play with him, Auntie Millie?”

“Certainly! Though I think you may rather wish to play with the things inside these parcels.”

Leo’s eyes rounded to saucers as he glanced at the mounds of wrapped packages. “But it isn’t my birthday.”

She fluttered her fingers, her rings flashing. “Oh, these are just a few little welcoming gifts.”

He touched one of the parcels as if he’d just stumbled upon a pirate’s golden treasure trove. “Look, Miss Fanshawe! Can I open them? Please?”

Natalie told herself to bide her tongue and avoid offending her hostess, but she could not remain silent. She was too appalled by the extravagance. “Not yet, darling. You’re very thoughtful, Duchess, but really, this is far too much. In America, Leo was accustomed to playing with sticks and stones.”