Lady Ellen and her mother arose to curtsy to him. Lady Godwin gave him a perfumed peck on the cheek. “We arrived in London late yesterday, so we have honored you with our first call. It seemed fitting since we never had a chance to say a proper good-bye. Isn’t that so, Ellen?”

The girl peeped shyly up at Hadrian. She looked like a pretty pink confection, her fair hair curling, her rosebud lips smiling. In a rehearsed manner, she murmured, “We’ve missed you, Your Grace.”

She seemed a mere child. He must have been mad ever to have wanted to wed so young a girl. Out of duty, he kissed her hand. “Welcome to Clayton House.”

Wymark bowed to Hadrian. “It was quite unlike you to leave Oak Knoll in such haste, coz. And in the company of the beauteous Miss Fanshawe.”

The hint of slyness in his tone made their departure sound sordid. Frowning at him, Hadrian recalled when his cousin had stumbled drunkenly into the library to find him with Natalie. Wymark had sworn never to speak of the incident. If the damned pup dared to sully her name …

Natalie fixed Wymark with a cool stare. “Leo left with us, too. Your nephew—remember him?”

There was a moment of charged silence in which Wymark scowled, his mother pinched her lips, and his father’s face turned stony.

Then Sir Basil harrumphed. “Beauteous, eh?” he bluntly asked Wymark. “My granddaughter is indeed a rare beauty, but you’re a mite wet behind the ears to come sniffing at her heels.”

Lady Godwin bristled. “I beg your pardon! My son could never have the slightest interest in a penniless woman of dubious ancestry, especially one who is firmly on the shelf.”

“She’s no more on the shelf than your fresh little peach of a daughter.” With a cagey smile, Sir Basil looked at the duchess. “Shall we tell them your plan, Millie? The one we were discussing before these callers interrupted us.”

Her face lit up with such delight that Hadrian had a stoical expectation of this plan costing him a great deal of money. “Go on,” he said.

Her candid blue eyes met his. “Darling, I’ve had the most marvelous notion. I wish to host a grand ball to introduce Natalie to society.”

Lady Godwin huffed out a breath, while Lady Ellen clapped her hands. “Oh, famous! Will we be invited?”

“Hush,” her mother chided. “I’m sure His Grace will have something to say about such an unsuitable scheme!”

All eyes turned to Hadrian. He suspected this had been Sir Basil’s ploy, judging by the man’s reputation as a wily rascal. It would benefit him to have his granddaughter accepted by society, opening doors that had been closed to him for thirty years. But it was Natalie’s reaction that interested Hadrian the most. She flashed a beseeching look at him, clearly opposing the idea, while being reluctant to disappoint his mother and her grandfather.

Hadrian had a sudden keen desire to partner her in a waltz, to hold her close as they whirled around the dance floor, to see her eyes sparkle in the golden glow of a thousand candles. He had a strong hunch she’d enjoy it, too. “There hasn’t been a ball at Clayton House in years,” he said. “A brilliant notion, Mama. Would a fortnight give you ample time in which to prepare?”