Tears blurred Natalie’s eyes. She blinked them away, not wanting to upset Leo. How amazing it was to see her dear friend again, if only in oil paints on canvas. How strange, too, to see her draped in such luxurious raiment. She felt a renewed admiration for Audrey, who had given up silks and jewels to wear homespun gowns in a simple cabin in the wilderness in order to be with the man she’d loved with all her heart.

Yet the Earl of Godwin had banished the likeness of his eldest daughter to this rubbish heap. He had hidden it away so that no one in the family could view Audrey again. How dare he treat her so shabbily?

Leo stood staring at the portrait, sucking on his forefinger, a babyish habit that Natalie hadn’t seen him do in months. She pulled him close to her skirts, her arm encircling his small shoulders. “How lovely your mama was. It must have surprised you very much, didn’t it, to come upon this?”

He reached out as if to touch the painting, then popped his finger back into his mouth, moving his head up and down in a mute nod.

The Duke of Clayton appeared at her side, and her muscles tensed from an awareness of his presence. He hunkered down in front of Leo. His voice low, he asked, “What do you say, brat? Is it a good likeness?”

Again, the boy nodded.

“I’ve often found that it’s difficult to speak with a finger in one’s mouth.” Reaching out, Clayton lightly tugged on the boy’s arm until the finger came out. “Now, you may answer properly. You do recognize who that is in the painting, don’t you?”

“’Course. It’s Mama.” Leo turned his innocent face up to Natalie. “Is there a picture of Papa, too?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said, brushing back a lock of his hair. “You see, your mama was Lord Godwin’s daughter. She grew up in this house, in the very nursery where we are staying. That’s why there’s a portrait of her here.”

He ruminated on that for a moment, then said in a small voice, “If nobody wants it anymore, can I—may I have it?”

Natalie’s throat caught. “I’ll have to ask your grandfather’s permission.”

“I’ll speak to Godwin,” the duke said, rising to his feet. “In the meantime, brat, perhaps I could carry it to the nursery for you. We’ll hang it in your bedchamber. Would you like that?”

Leo’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please, Mr. Duke.”

Natalie bit her lip to keep from saying that it might not be a wise idea to display a constant reminder for Leo of the mother he had lost. After all, he had only recently overcome his grief. But she couldn’t bring up the topic of his nightmares while Leo was standing there, all ears.

The duke picked up the oversized painting and motioned to Natalie to lead the way back down the winding stone steps of the tower. Grasping Leo’s small hand, she was conscious of a simmering resentment over what Clayton had said to Leo. You do recognize who that is in the painting, don’t you?