“Oh, the poor, dear child,” Lizzy exclaimed unhelpfully. “Think of all he’s missed!”

“Nevertheless, Natalie is right,” Hadrian said, looking sternly from his sister to his mother. “Especially as the nursery is already well stocked.”

“But I only wish for him to be happy here,” his mother said with a pout. “You sound just like Cousin Godwin! When you were a little boy, he was forever sending scolding letters, warning me to cease spoiling you. Why, the pinchpenny brute even had the audacity to dispose of the toys I gave you.”

“That was a long time ago. And there is something to be said for austerity. We’ve spoken of this a number of times.”

The duchess groped for her handkerchief, dabbing the corner of one watery eye. “Oh, pray don’t be cruel, Hadrian. My purpose is only to be kind.”

He appeared nonplussed by the sudden glint of tears, but there was something sham in the way she gazed up at her son that gave Natalie the suspicion that his mother could turn the waterworks on and off at will.

In an effort to settle the dispute while Leo was distracted by examining the boxes, she said quickly, “You are kind, Duchess, to have gone out of your way to make Leo happy. Might I suggest that you give him a parcel to unwrap today, and save the others for later? So long as he behaves himself, of course.”

“One per week would be a reasonable compromise,” Hadrian said with a slight smile at the boy. “Go on, brat. You may choose one to open right now.”

Not surprisingly, Leo selected the biggest box and knelt down to rip off the yellow ribbon and striped paper. His face lit up. “Look, it’s the Royal Mail coach! With horses, too. There’s even a coachman! Thank you, Aunt Millie!”

He jumped up to give her a quick hug while everyone dutifully oohed and aahed. Tail wagging, Orlando leaped down from the duchess’s lap to watch Leo play with his new toy. Natalie noted the fine detail of the miniature set and fretted at the obvious expense. It also gave her an inkling as to why Lord Godwin had found the duchess’s indulgence of Hadrian to be excessive.

While the boy was occupied, the duke turned to his mother. “I’m wondering if you might be acquainted with Miss Fanshawe’s grandfather,” he said. “Sir Basil Fanshawe.”

Her eyes widened with interest. “Sir Basil? From Lincolnshire? Why, that rogue was a beau of mine back in my debutante days, though he was much older than me. I haven’t heard his name in ever so many years.”

“He lost his place in society over some unpaid debts quite a long time ago,” Natalie said. “It was shortly after my father emigrated to America. To be perfectly frank, my family history is somewhat checkered.”

“Oh, bosh, so is ours, and I am a part of the reason why,” she said matter-of-factly. “I shouldn’t think my son has mentioned my lineage to you, for by ducal decree of my late husband, it was swept under the rug ages ago.”