The other two men took nearby seats, while Hadrian opted to remain standing with his elbow resting on the fireplace mantel. “Now that we’re all settled,” he said, “I’m afraid I have unhappy tidings. As you know, Lady Audrey and her husband fled England a decade ago. I regret to inform you that Miss Fanshawe has come from America to bring us word of their deaths.”

Lady Godwin gasped. “Oh no. How dreadful!”

Her expression held the appearance of sorrow, but the lack of tears was understandable in light of the fact that she had been Audrey’s stepmother. As Lord Godwin’s second wife, she had tended to favor her own children, Wymark and Ellen. Wymark himself looked less than grief-stricken, for he’d been a boy of only ten at the time of Audrey’s elopement. He was leaning casually back in his chair, swirling the brandy in his glass.

The earl displayed no emotion whatsoever. His inscrutable face might have been carved from marble. As if to further shield his thoughts, he shifted his gaze to stare into the flames of the fire.

Yes, Hadrian judged, Godwin most definitely had received at least one or perhaps both of the letters sent by Miss Fanshawe, for he didn’t appear to be at all surprised by the news. It was also apparent that he hadn’t shared the content of those missives with his family.

“Whatever happened to the poor girl?” Lady Godwin asked, groping for a handkerchief and pressing it to her cheek. “Was it illness? Or some dreadful accident? Oh, I warned Audrey not to leave this house for such a wild, uncivilized country! And with a common curate, too!”

“Be that as it may,” Hadrian said crisply, striving to hide his impatience, “there is no point in rehashing the past. As to what happened, our visitor is privy to the details. She was Audrey’s closest friend.” He sent Miss Fanshawe a penetrating look, wondering at what secrets lurked behind that lovely face. “Perhaps now she will be so kind as to enlighten all of us.”

Chapter 5

Feeling the force of everyone’s attention, Natalie returned their scrutiny with tense composure. She hadn’t known what to expect from Audrey’s relatives, but it wasn’t this lukewarm reaction. Aside from the duke, the only person who’d expressed any sadness was the countess, though she seemed to be putting on a performance rather than exhibiting heartfelt grief.

Lady Godwin had been Audrey’s stepmother, Natalie recalled. Audrey had once alluded that the woman had seemed pleased by the elopement. Apparently, the countess had never warmed up to her stepdaughter, the only child of her husband’s first marriage.

That assessment applied also to Audrey’s half brother, Lord Wymark, who seemed largely unaffected by the tragic news. He sat sipping his brandy, looking more avid than upset, as if he were hearing a bit of titillating gossip.

Lord Godwin merely gazed at Natalie in flinty silence. On the long sea voyage, when she’d imagined this moment, she had hoped the man would feel anguish over the death of his eldest daughter. That perhaps over the years, he had come to regret sending Audrey into exile and washing his hands of her. But his aristocratic features revealed nothing.