gender.”
“That’s true. My sweet Malcolm could never stand the sight of blood. Poor lad. He would swoon at the sight of it.” The duchess cut a delicate piece of lamb and placed it in her mouth, chewing neatly.
“Precisely. As to the matter of who is best suited to work in medicine, I say it depends on the individual and gender has nothing to do with it.”
The table, again, fell to silence.
He’d surprised her. She did not know how to respond. She felt her mouth open and close several times.
Lady Elise smiled at her and then turned her full attention on to Sinclair, as though he were suddenly worth noticing. “Well said, Mr. Sinclair.”
Lady Elise fiddled with her spoon, turning it over in her chilled soup as she gazed at Sinclair, her expression almost . . . besotted. There were no other words for her suddenly starry-eyed expression. She angled her head, arching her long, elegant neck. Her slim fingers stroked the tender line of her throat, almost as though calling attention there.
Again, Nora was confronted with the fact that there was much of her to admire. Her luminescent skin only highlighted the lush beauty of her chestnut hair and hazel eyes.
Lady Elise had not looked at him once during the entire evening, but now she appeared quite enraptured of him.
It was almost as though in coming to Nora’s defense, he had esteemed himself in her eyes.
Splendid.
Nora lifted her glass and took a deep drink, trying to fight the strange swell of emotions in her chest. She filtered through them, singling them out one at a time and setting them aside for examination.
Annoyance. Resentment. Oh, and one emotion that felt dangerously close to . . . inadequacy, and she hated that. It wasn’t like her. Nora Langley was not one to ever suffer feelings of inadequacy. In order to do that, she’d have to care what others thought and the opinions of others had never ranked as a very high priority in her life.
Even though Bea had done wonders to make her look her best, she felt like a dull bird sitting a few seats down from Lady Elise, who seemed to know how to tilt her head and place her hand on her neck just so, in a way that made Nora feel flushed and faintly naughty . . . like she was spying on a couple sneaking a kiss.
Lady Elise spoke again, still brushing a hand along her neck, over her pulse point in that flirty way.
“That’s a very fair point, Mr. Sinclair. Why shouldn’t a woman be permitted a medical license? Goodness knows whenever I’ve fallen ill, it’s always been a woman to take care of me.”
“Elise,” the dowager marchioness intervened in a reprimanding tone, and Nora suspected she used that tone often on her niece. “Don’t encourage such nonsense. Miss Langley doubtlessly wants to start a household of her own soon. She will not continue her work as an . . . herbalist into the future.” Lady Elise’s aunt uttered herbalist as though it were a dirty word.
“Not everyone’s vocation is marriage, Aunt,” Lady Elise said sharply. Perhaps too sharply? A quick glance revealed that the Duke and Duchess of Birchwood both looked perturbed at that announcement from the woman they clearly hoped to be their future daughter-in-law.
“Rubbish. Every young woman is after marriage.” The baroness tittered. “Trust me.” She waved her spoon in a small circle. “We had three daughters and they could scarcely wait to leave our house to start households of their own.”
Nora lifted her napkin to her lips to stifle a laugh as it occurred to her that these daughters may have been in a rush to marry simply to escape their parents.
Lowering her napkin, she declared very soberly, “I can assure you I am not in a hurry to start my own household. But then I suppose I’m an anomaly in that regard.”
“Anomaly indeed.” Somehow the dowager marchioness managed to take a sip from her glass through pinched lips. Impressive.
“Nonsense,” the baron intervened. “Only the ineligible females profess no desire to wed.”
Nora stiffened, but fixed a smile to her face, pretending not to be offended at being characterized as ineligible.
“Your sister is married to the Duke of Warrington, is she not, Miss Langley?” the dowager marchioness asked.
“Yes.” Nora nodded, glad for the change of subject. She was quite done discussing the validity of women practicing medicine.
“Was there not some notoriety surrounding him?” She looked contemplative as she posed the question. “He never