“There is no reason for such hysteria,” Hadrian said testily. “Miss Fanshawe poses no threat to anyone here. As for the boy, you’ve only to look at him to see the family resemblance. If it makes you feel more easy, I shall talk to Leo myself and see what he has to say about his mother.”

“Miss Fanshawe may have coached him,” Wymark warned. “I never knew you to be so trusting, Clayton.”

“Nor you so cruel, cousin.”

At that sullen look, Hadrian had a suspicion as to what was going on. Wymark must be deep in debt again and anxious to bleed his father’s bank account. He coveted every penny he could squeeze out of stingy Godwin, and another claimant on the family fortune would only reduce Wymark’s share.

The earl rose to his feet. “I’ll summon my solicitor from London. He can examine the papers and pass judgment on their veracity. In the meantime, I will of course permit Miss Fanshawe and the boy to remain here.”

“Leo,” Hadrian said. “His name is Leo.”

The earl gave a conciliatory nod. “Leo, of course. Though it’s a pity this disruption should coincide with your visit. I cannot pretend to be happy about having to deal with a distraction at such a time.”

“I must concur,” Lady Godwin said. “Your Grace, you will be anxious to renew your acquaintance with dear Ellen. We mustn’t allow any interruptions to spoil your stay. Ah, there she is now.”

A movement drew Hadrian’s gaze to the doorway of the drawing room. The slender young lady who hovered there brought to mind a shy goldfinch. Gowned in pale yellow muslin, with guinea-gold curls framing her dainty features, she exuded a fresh, winsome beauty.

A proud smile brightened Lady Godwin’s face. Rising, she motioned her daughter into the room. “Come, my darling, make your curtsy to His Grace.”

The girl dutifully glided forward and did a pretty genuflection. Large blue eyes peeped up at him before her lashes dipped modestly downward again. In a rehearsed manner, she chirped, “Good day, Your Grace. We are very happy that you’ve honored us with a visit.”

So this was Lady Ellen.

The last time he’d seen her, she had been a flat-chested sprite of twelve who’d known how to wind her papa around her little finger. Hadrian had accompanied the family to a fair in Whitnash, where she had wheedled pennies from Godwin for ices, cavorted around a maypole, and giggled at a puppet show.

She had grown up in the intervening six years, her figure filling out in all the right places. Nevertheless, he felt like a lecher when he flicked a furtive look at her shapely bosom. His discomfiture had to be due to the fact that she was his second cousin, and that he’d known her as a little girl. Surely his qualms would pass as he and Lady Ellen became reacquainted as adults.

He sat down with her on the chaise. As her parents beamed at them, he felt as if he were a prize stallion being presented with a mare. “It’s been a long time since last we met, Lady Ellen. Tell me, do you still laugh at Punch and Judy?”