Natalie caught herself smiling back, albeit only briefly. Once again, she felt the tug of that peculiar connection with him as if they understood each other on a deep, fundamental level. But it made no sense. Given her steadfast belief in equality, she could have nothing in common with an English duke. And surely at the grand old age of six-and-twenty, she was too prudent to be susceptible to a handsome face.

She went on. “Audrey studied medical textbooks and learned herbal remedies. She had a gentle way with people, especially those who were badly injured. I daresay she was part of the reason why settlers flocked to Bellingham. They felt welcome and safe there. Though we’d heard tales of skirmishes elsewhere during the recent war, it was a quiet and peaceful spot. At least until … one afternoon last August.”

Natalie glanced away, fisting her fingers in her lap. Everything in her rebelled at the prospect of describing that event. She could still hear the screams and smell the blood and smoke. The mere thought of it chilled her to the bone.

“What then?” Wymark prompted, looking morbidly fascinated. “Pray go on, Miss Fanshawe.”

Though she drew a ragged breath, it still took an effort to force out the words. “The gates were open … as they usually were during the day. We were accustomed to people going in and out, traders and farmers, locals we knew. But on that particular afternoon, a small group of strangers rode into the compound. One of them … shot Jeremy dead on the steps of the church. The others began to swing their swords, cutting down everyone in their path, chasing after those who tried to run, farmers, natives, children … and Audrey.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing the awful scene she’d witnessed from the schoolhouse window was not so vividly etched into her mind. She had tried to bury it, yet it still caused her nightmares.

Lady Godwin moaned. Her complexion was pale, her eyes rounded with fright. “Poor, dear Audrey! I always feared she would be killed by savages!”

“They were savages, all right,” Natalie said in a grating tone. “And they wore the red coats of the British infantry.”

The Duke of Clayton gave a start of shock. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Though from the ragtag condition of their garb, they might have been renegades, separated from their unit.”

“Bah, I don’t believe it,” Wymark said, setting his glass with a click onto a side table. “Our troops are too civilized to attack women and children, let alone preachers and farmers.”

Natalie stared him down. “Then you do not understand the reality of war, sir. As Americans, we were the enemy. So were the native people who had made a treaty with us. And enemies are to be slain.”

She firmed her lips to keep from berating him further. Perhaps it was unkind of her to speak so bluntly to these pampered aristocrats. They hadn’t ordered the attack. Besides, she herself had been somewhat pampered at one time. She hadn’t known then the evil that could lurk in the hearts of men.