The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,18

him—not that it appeared to affect him. He turned smartly on his heels. She scowled after him, loathing warring with a sharp sense of desperation inside her.

She had to prove to him that she knew what she was about. Then he would forget all about her subterfuge. He would forget and forgive and she could go on as normal with her reputation intact.

Chapter 7

Constantine was intercepted at the front of the grand house. His hopes of slipping away without having to encounter another member of the household were dashed, unfortunately.

“Sinclair,” Warrington hailed, stepping in front of him. Clearly the man had been lying in wait, knowing he would depart through the garden.

Constantine peered rather desperately over the man’s shoulder in the general direction of the stables, his desired destination. His usual equilibrium fluttered like frayed ribbons in the wind. Coming here had been a mistake. A colossal waste of time. The doctor was dead and he’d been corresponding with a charlatan all this time.

The betrayal cut keenly.

The Duke of Warrington clapped a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that felt somewhat forced. Constantine stared at the hand and then looked back at the man’s face.

“You are not leaving so soon, are you?” Warrington inquired.

“That was my intention, yes, Your Grace.” There was nothing here for him, after all.

“You must stay the night. Half the day is lost already. Stay and you can leave at first light. It’s the sensible plan.”

The last thing he wanted was to be stuck beneath the roof with this family. He could ride a few hours and then stay the night at an inn. At least there he would not be forced to talk to anyone and make pleasantries.

“I would not want to impose—”

“Nonsense! No imposition.”

Constantine studied the man’s face, wondering why it mattered so much to him where he stayed the night. Certainly he did not care.

Warrington’s gaze skittered away from him toward the house. Constantine tracked his gaze where it rested on a window. Framed within that window stood the duchess, looking on the sight of them with a hopeful expression.

Of course, the duke’s lovely wife had put him up to this. For whatever reason, she wanted Constantine to stay the night.

“Let us ply you with fine food and a comfortable bed. You’ll not find that at any nearby inns. Cook trained in France. It is the least we can offer you after coming all this way to only be met with disappointment.”

He was making a strong argument. Constantine enjoyed fine food. Living in a tent and eating food prepared over a campfire had given him an intense appreciation for tasty fare.

Warrington nodded toward the house. “Come now. You can rest in your chamber until dinner. We’ll leave you in peace.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “You’ve my vow on that. I’ll see to it that no one disturbs you until then.”

He looked sharply at the nobleman. Was Constantine so very easy to read then? Did he have a sign looped about his neck declaring himself anxious to be rid of this place and, most notably, Miss Nora Langley?

“Very well. I cannot refuse such a generous offer of hospitality.” He would not wish word getting back to Birchwood that he refused the hospitality of a peer. He was trying to prove himself a fitting heir, after all.

“Splendid.” The duke motioned him toward the house. “Let’s get you settled then.”

If Nora thought having dinner with Mr. Sinclair might work in her favor, she was mistaken. There was no softening of him toward her. He sat stiff lipped, largely ignoring her as they dined. He spoke to Marian and Nathaniel, but not Nora. Oh, if she asked a direct question of him he would offer a monosyllable response. No more than that. The barest courtesy was only extended to her. Eventually she gave up and finished her meal in silence, attempting to not pout so obviously.

She understood he was displeased with her, but how was she to win him over if he would not speak to her? From the way he avoided even looking at her, she knew he was still angry and as determined as ever to expose her to Durham and the others. He’d said as much and gave no indication that he had changed his mind.

They retired to the drawing room after dinner. Her brother-in-law was not one of those men who abandoned his wife at the first opportunity. Quite the opposite. They spent their evenings together . . .