ever met . . . certainly not like the gracious and properly circumspect Lady Elise whom he had spent much time with of late. No, Lady Elise was a paragon of virtuous womanhood compared to this.
Nora Langley had all the tenacity of a bulldog. She might be attractive with curves that appealed to many a man, but he could not stomach the sight of her knowing the treachery she had wrought. Presently he would prefer the company of a bulldog rather than face off with this unpleasant female.
“I admit nothing as I have no way of knowing what I would have done.” He did his best to get the words out with equanimity, revealing none of his ire. “I was never presented with the truth of the situation, was I?”
“Oh, Colonel.” The Duchess of Warrington clasped her hands together before her. “You have our deepest apologies. We so regret any inconvenience this has caused you.”
Inconvenience, indeed. He held up his hand. “No need.” He’d say anything to escape this drawing room and these people. At any rate, the duchess owed him no apology. The person who owed him an apology had yet to give one. “And I am no longer Colonel Sinclair, Your Grace. I’ve retired my commission and returned home.”
“I thought you were in for life? You claimed no interest in leaving the army.” Nora Langley looked at him as though he had somehow played a trick on her. Ironic, considering she was the proven liar here. Not him.
“Nora,” the duchess chided tightly under her breath. “Don’t pester our guest with prying questions.” Constantine supposed the tight smile fixed to her face was meant to look natural.
“I’ve had a change in . . . circumstance. I suddenly find myself heir to my father’s cousin. I was called home after the death of his sons.”
“Oh, such a tragedy.” The duchess sank down on the sofa with a properly contrite expression. “I’m very sorry to hear of your family’s loss.”
Nora gave a stiff nod of agreement. “Indeed. Very sorry to hear that, Mr. Sinclair.”
He acknowledged their words with a nod of his own.
Then the duke was speaking now. “What brings you here now, Mr. Sinclair?” The man was clearly intent on getting to the heart of the matter. “Is there something we might help you with?”
“Well, I’ve returned to England a few months past to find my cousin’s wife suffering from a mysterious ailment. She has seen several doctors, all to no avail.”
“Oh, dear.” The duchess shook her head. “How dreadful. To lose her sons and then be afflicted so.”
“She has had to endure much,” he agreed. “I hate to see the duchess in such anguish.”
“Duchess?” Warrington queried.
Of course it would come out. It’s who he was now. He didn’t revel in announcing his new rank, but he supposed it was unavoidable. “My father’s cousin is the Duke of Birchwood.”
“Oh, my.” The Duchess of Warrington’s eyes went round. “Then you are . . .”
“The heir to the Duke of Birchwood,” Warrington finished.
“Save me from another blasted duke,” Nora Langley muttered, almost too quiet for him to hear, but he was standing the closest to her. He heard her perfectly.
“Yes,” he allowed. “I am all they have left. And I want to help the duchess. I need to help . . .” He stopped. “I cannot abide to see her suffering. I had thought to fetch Dr. Langley. I can see now I should have sent word first.” God knew what kind of reply he would have gotten? The truth? Finally? No. She would have put him off with more lies. “I am sorry to have imposed.” He moved toward the door, eager to take his leave. “I won’t take up any more of your time.” Or mine. He turned to go.
“What are her symptoms?” the young Miss Langley asked abruptly.
He stopped and looked back at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“You mentioned this woman is suffering? In what manner?”
He looked from her to the duke and duchess. They did not seem surprised at Miss Langley’s question. “I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time . . .” Or further waste his own.
“You came here for help.” She looked up at him with wide guileless eyes. “Permit me to help you then.”
“Nora is quite the healer, Mr. Sinclair. You’ve come all this way. You might as well sit with her for a spell before turning around and going home again. There is nothing Nora enjoys more than drowning herself