“Perhaps another day, darling. He’ll be visiting with his relatives today. Now, let me know if you grow cold and I’ll close the window.”

As Leo returned to his army, she focused her attention on dusting the pictures on the walls. Twenty-six of them comprised the alphabet, each letter cleverly depicted as a zoo animal. While she worked, Natalie had a vision of the duke sitting here in this schoolroom as a boy, learning his letters by gazing at these very drawings. It was difficult to imagine such a powerful man as a vulnerable boy grieving for his father.

On the ride here, he’d mentioned having attained his title at the tender age of five. He had come to live at Oak Knoll since his father’s cousin, Lord Godwin, had been his appointed guardian. Where had his mother been? Had she moved here with him? Or had she died, as well?

Useless speculations. Better she should ponder Leo’s fate.

Meeting his relatives had been a sobering experience. Lord Godwin had acted aloof, Lady Godwin self-absorbed, and Lord Wymark callous. None of them had appeared pleased to have a long-lost grandson land in their midst. The Duke of Clayton had been Leo’s sole ally, and he was merely a visitor. Soon, he would go away and Leo would have no one to watch out for him.

The notion shook Natalie to the core.

A part of her fiercely wished she had never crossed the ocean to bring Leo to England. These aristocrats might be his blood kin, but they clearly had little interest in the boy. Everything in her balked at the notion of abandoning him among people who did not love him. She wanted to steal him away and take him back to America. Upon their return to Philadelphia, she could raise Leo herself while fulfilling her dream of opening a school there.

Yet she had promised Audrey. She had sworn an oath. And surely Audrey would not have made such a request if she’d believed her father to be a heartless tyrant. But how could she have still trusted the earl after the way he’d forsaken her? He’d disowned her for the sin of marrying a commoner.

Natalie frowned while dusting the framed drawing of a swan curled into the letter S. She had learned at her own father’s knee about the exclusivity of the British upper class. Having grown up in England, Papa had disparaged their practice of wedding only blue bloods from within their closed circles. Godwin had cast off his daughter for daring to break that rule. And it remained to be seen if he would even accept Leo.

The muted sound of a knock broke into her brooding thoughts.

A young lady was peeping into the schoolroom. Clad in a gown of pale yellow with a black ribbon tied beneath her bodice, she had gold curls and china-blue eyes. Her gaze darted from Natalie to Leo and back again.

“Hullo,” she said in a sprightly tone. “I hope I’m not intruding. I heard that I’ve a nephew who’s come to visit all the way from America.”