That grin made him look younger, more approachable, less the snooty nobleman. Against her will, a sheepish smile tugged at her own lips. It would be churlish to cling to old resentments, Natalie supposed. Especially when the duke had proven himself to be a vital ally in protecting Leo in this unfriendly household. For that reason alone, she must court his good will.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “I do beg your pardon.”

One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Can this be the nettlesome Miss Fanshawe? Pray don’t curtsy, too, lest I think you’ve lost all of your spirit.”

“Oh, that will never happen!” Turning away, Natalie strolled to the trunk of garments and picked up a gold-feathered demimask attached to a long stick. She held it to her face and peered impishly at the duke through the eyeholes. “There must have been a masquerade party here once. Perhaps hosted by a previous earl. I cannot imagine the present Lord Godwin unbending enough to don a frivolous costume.”

“Actually, he did hold a masquerade ball,” Clayton mused. “Strange, I’d forgotten about it until just now. It took place shortly after I came to live here.”

As he stepped closer, Natalie lowered the mask to look inquiringly at him. She couldn’t help but notice the unusual dark rim surrounding his gray irises. He really had the most captivating eyes, if one could see past that granite hardness. Together with his thick lashes and keen stare, his chiseled features held an allurement that hinted at sin and seduction.

He reached out and took the mask, his fingers brushing against hers. The slight contact raised a flurry of prickles over her skin and made her shiver. She rubbed her arms, pretending to warm them. “There’s a chill in here. It’s these stone walls.”

His cocked eyebrow suggested he saw through her subterfuge and found it amusing. He tossed the mask aside and plucked a gold cape from the trunk, which he arranged around her shoulders. The aroma of lavender sachet wafted to her nose. As did the heady scent of his cologne.

“Come over to the window,” he said. “The sunlight will warm you.”

His hand resting at the base of her spine, he guided her to the spot. The heat of his palm penetrated her more deeply than the sun ever could. It stirred the shocking desire for him to caress her bare skin. Needing a distraction, she stepped away and spun to face him, the cape swirling around her. “Tell me about this costume ball. What do you remember about it?”

The duke’s eyes turned hazy as if he were looking into the past. “I recall peeking down through the balustrade at everyone in their fancy clothes. Aunt Sarah—that’s what I called the first Lady Godwin—came upstairs to give Audrey and me a good-night kiss. She was draped in some sort of white robe with gold trim. And wearing that very cape, too. She looked like an angel.”

Natalie tilted her head to the side. “She was … Audrey’s mother?”