“Then I needn’t feel bad about it.” Lady Ellen pursed her rosy lips. “I only wish there was something I could do for poor Leo.”

“I’m sure he would enjoy an occasional visit from his aunt.”

The girl brightened at that; then just as swiftly her face fell. “Oh, but my family and I will be departing for London next week for the season. And Papa believes children belong here at Oak Knoll.”

Dismay shook Natalie. This was a twist she hadn’t anticipated. Leo mustn’t be abandoned here with only servants for company. “What do you mean by the season? The springtime?”

“Why, it’s when all of society gathers in London, from Eastertide through June. Do you not have such a season in America? What a pity, for it is the most glorious time of the year, or so everyone says.”

“You’ve never experienced it before?”

“No, this season shall be my very first one.” She clasped her hands together and twirled around in a circle, her skirts flaring. “You cannot imagine how thrilled I am! There shall be balls and routs and parties and shopping…” She stopped, alarm wiping the vivacity from her pretty features, her gaze frozen on the door. Under her breath, she moaned, “Oh no. It’s him.”

Mystified, Natalie turned her gaze in that direction, and her heart cavorted against her rib cage. Meltingly handsome in a tailored blue coat that outlined his broad shoulders, the Duke of Clayton stepped into the nursery. His tall form seemed to dwarf the spacious room. She had a keen awareness of her own untidy appearance and had to resist the impulse to tuck in a few strands of hair that had come loose while she was cleaning.

His gaze flicked at her and Lady Ellen standing in the corner. He seemed a trifle surprised to see them together.

Beaming, Leo ran helter-skelter through the maze of toys and tables. “Mr. Duke! Mr. Duke! Miss Fanshawe said you wouldn’t come, but I knew you would!”

One corner of his mouth curled up. “You’re a clever one, brat. You remembered that I’d promised you a tour of the house.”

“First, you have to watch my battle,” Leo said, grasping Clayton’s large hand and hauling him toward the window. “I’ve been working on it for hours and hours.”

The duke let himself be towed in that direction. But halfway there, he paused to give them a courtly bow. “Ladies.”

Lady Ellen sank into a deep curtsy, while Natalie acknowledged him with a cool nod that belied the quivering inside her bosom. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, and her skin tingled, sending sparks of awareness throughout her body. He seemed always to have this effect on her—to make her feel as flustered as a green girl.

She was too mature for such starry-eyed nonsense. Especially in regard to an English nobleman who was no better than herself. What she felt was merely an instinctive feminine reaction to an attractive man, nothing more.