“Out,” the earl repeated, more sharply this time. “I’d like a private word with His Grace. What we choose to discuss is no concern of yours.”

“Fine. I’ll go, then.” Rising, Wymark grabbed his wine goblet and saluted Hadrian with it. Clearly tipsy, he swayed as he sauntered out of the room, pausing to throw over his shoulder, “Better get the ring on her finger quickly, Clayton, before the other fellows see her!”

A flush of disapproval tinted Godwin’s cheeks, a contrast to his graying fair hair. Dismissing the footman, he picked up the crystal decanter and poured two glasses, pushing one toward Hadrian. “I apologize for the lad. He can be a trial at times, especially when he’s in his cups.”

“No harm done.” Hadrian took a sip of the rich, ruby wine. His father’s cousin might be a pinchpenny, but he kept a decent cellar. “This port can make up for anything.”

Godwin held up his glass to the light from the candelabrum on the table. “It is a beauty, isn’t it? My last bottle of this vintage.”

They discussed the merits of several varieties of Spanish and Portuguese grapes before the earl said, “If I may, I would like to confer with you on the matter that Richard mentioned. I’m anxious to know your intentions toward my daughter, now that you’ve seen her for the first time in some years. Does she meet with your approval?”

Hadrian had anticipated the question although he was not entirely ready to answer it. “Lady Ellen is a well-mannered young lady. One cannot deny she has all the qualities to make an excellent duchess.” He paused, then decided to be blunt. “However, I have my doubts as to whether or not she wishes to fill that role.”

“Ellen can be bashful at times. She is only eighteen, after all, and newly out of the schoolroom.” Godwin frowned as if frustrated. “But I can testify that she’s usually a more lively girl. Perhaps being confronted by a man of your stature has frightened her into silence.”

“That may be so,” Hadrian agreed noncommittally.

He glanced down into his glass, swirling the port and wondering at his vague sense of reluctance. He was making a grand alliance, not a love match, and Lady Ellen adequately filled his requirements. She had been trained since birth in how to manage a nobleman’s household. As for her shyness, that surely would resolve itself in time. Hadn’t he already decided, anyway, that he wanted a woman who wasn’t too chatty or opinionated? He had no intention of spending the rest of his life shackled to a wife who would give him no peace.

But meeting Natalie had thrown that prerequisite into question. She was most definitely chatty and opinionated, yet he’d very much relished talking with her. They’d shared the repartee of friendship, a valuable commodity he’d only ever found with his male friends. Strange as it might seem, he felt more alive in her presence. Their closeness of minds and souls made no logical sense considering they’d known each other for only a scant few days. And the hell of it was that he could have conversed with her for hours.