The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,3

understand. The cause happened to be the cute-as-a-bunny ten-month-old baby in her arms. Motherhood, apparently, was another cause for popularity.

In fact, motherhood, perhaps, topped wifehood. While her sisters’ marriages had lifted them in the world’s estimation . . . motherhood had lifted them to exalted status.

A glance over her shoulder revealed Mrs. Harken-Dale cooing over Charlotte’s baby. A line was fast gathering behind her.

“Gah.” Nora expelled a heavy breath. “We’re going to be here forever.”

She admired her niece as much as the next person. More so. They were kin, after all. But she did not relish having to wait whilst everyone gushed over little Cordelia.

Nora’s gaze skittered to her eldest sister. Marian was increasing now, and everyone gushed over her nearly as much as Charlotte and little Cordelia.

As her sisters were rushed by the matrons of the village, Nora walked briskly toward the Warrington carriage. She would wait inside. Perhaps that would encourage them to say their farewells and break away.

No one attempted to intercept her. Unless someone had a boil that required lancing, Nora was not in demand.

A liveried groom lowered the step and moved to open the door for her. She reached for his extended hand, ready to ascend and wait inside.

“Thank you, Thomas,” she murmured, nestling her fingers in his palm.

Once she was settled on the squabs, she sat and waited, willing herself to patience.

Of course, patience was not her strong suit. It never had been. In her restlessness, she slipped off her gloves and idly ran her fingers over the calluses marring her palms.

“Oh, bother.” Without hailing the groom for assistance, she took flight out the door not facing the church. She cast a glance back. Thomas stared after her from his perch, looking quite puzzled.

She waved a hand in the air. “The day is so lovely. Tell my sisters I will walk home.”

She marched forward, unaware if he called a reply and uncaring if he did. She was accustomed to going about her own pursuits in the manner she chose. Her sisters were accustomed as well, and would feel no surprise to find her gone.

Contentment suffused her as she strolled through the countryside at an easy pace, leaving the bustling churchyard and village behind and enjoying the fine weather. Buds poked from several trees and shrubs, heralding the onset of spring. It was an excellent day for gathering herbs if only she had brought her satchel along with her. Instantly she decided she would hasten to her chamber, change her garments and gather the things she required for collecting herbs.

When she arrived at Haverston Hall it was to find Marian and her husband not yet returned. Goodness, if Nora hadn’t slipped away she would still be stuck there.

Shaking her head, she dashed up to her chamber and made quick work of shedding her garments, twisting about and doing her best to undo the buttons at her back without tearing them loose. Many a button had flown on occasions before, scattered to the corners of her chamber.

She knew the maid assigned to her upon moving into Haverston Hall rued the day she had landed Nora as a charge. Nora was forever uncooperative, avoiding custom and dressing herself, undressing herself, doing her own hair, tending her fire and pulling down her own bed at night. She was every lady’s maid’s nightmare, but Bea’s especially. Bea had said as much.

Considering the manner of activity she had planned for the rest of the day, she donned one of her old costumes. A simple gray blouse and skirt with an embroidered belt. She had worn the attire often before Marian married the duke—when Nora was naught but a simple country maid.

Life had been hard then, with little money and debtors hunting them and a belly that was never quite full. Fear for their future was a very real thing.

Now there was no fear. And yet life had been simpler then. Simpler when she’d had nothing. No money. No prospects, certainly.

Now there were expectations, as much as she disliked those expectations and chafed beneath the weight of them.

She descended the stairs and made her way free of the house without encountering anyone. She exhaled. It always felt a little easier to breathe when she was clear of Haverston Hall.

She basked in the fine day, her long strides quickly covering the distance, soon depositing her at her destination on the far side of the estate. The secluded little lagoon was a place she had occasionally visited, swimming in the waters as a