“That will be perfect! Oh, it shall be the event of the season. I’ll begin the guest list at once. Perhaps, Natalie, you will be so kind as to help me write out the invitations?”

“Of course.”

Despite her tranquil reply, Natalie aimed an accusatory glare at Hadrian. He smiled, lifting his shoulders slightly to convey that there was no stopping his mother once she took an idea into her head.

Lady Godwin rose to her feet. “Well! Since you insist on pursuing this mad scheme, Duchess, we shall leave you to your preparations.”

Lady Ellen and Wymark spoke their good-byes, but Godwin addressed his wife. “I need a word with Hadrian. Take the carriage and I’ll walk home.”

“But we were to visit the Norwoods—”

“Do as I say, Priscilla.”

At his stern look, she nodded stiffly and sailed out of the salon with her children. Then Hadrian found himself the focus of that gimlet stare.

“Is there a place where we might speak in private, Clayton?”

“Of course.”

Hadrian cast one last glance at the graceful sway of Natalie’s hips as she went to the writing desk to fetch paper and pen for his mother’s guest list. Then he led the way downstairs. The earl said nothing, not even a pleasantry. His manner radiated a disapproval that reminded Hadrian of his boyhood, being summoned to face Godwin’s wrath over some minor transgression.

But he was no longer a child, longing for his guardian’s approval. Now he would be the one sitting behind the desk.

Reaching his study, he waved Godwin into a leather chair and went to the cabinet to pour two brandies, handing one glass to the earl. The years had cut deep lines into the man’s harsh features and reduced his gold hair to a thinning straw color. His grumpy expression reflected the fact that he also was growing more bitter with age.

Godwin took a sip before speaking. “I’m surprised you’d allow your mother to associate with that infamous old rogue.”

Hadrian had his qualms about Sir Basil. But if he ever hoped to win Natalie, he could hardly banish her grandfather. Taking his seat, he said, “The duchess is perfectly capable of choosing her own companions.”

“Mark my words, he’s after her wealth. He was a trickster thirty years ago, and old habits die hard.”

“The danger is slight. You know as well as I that the bulk of her fortune is under my control.” Hadrian took a drink, relishing the burn of brandy down his throat. “Now, I doubt you’re here to discuss the duchess. If you’re angry about my abrupt departure from Oak Knoll, you’ve only yourself to blame.”

Godwin narrowed his cold blue eyes. “I had business with my solicitor this morning. Musgrave reported hearing a rumor that the Duke of Clayton has filed a petition with the court seeking guardianship of an orphan boy.”

Ah, so that was what had raised the man’s dander. “It’s no rumor,” he said coolly. “Since you refuse to acknowledge Leo Bellingham as your grandson, I’ve taken it upon myself to assume responsibility for him.”