The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,38

comes to Town.”

“Town life is not for everyone,” the Duchess of Birchwood chimed in.

“Yes, but does he not neglect his duties in the House?” The lady shook her head in disapproval. “Some people have no sense of duty.”

“My brother-in-law happens to prefer country life,” Nora explained, trying to keep the defensiveness from her voice. “And he’s quite besotted with my sister, his wife, and she, too, happens to prefer life in Brambledon.” Nora shrugged as if the matter were as simple as that.

“How singular.” The dowager marchioness shook her head, visibly scoffing, clearly not thinking it romantic or acceptable in any way.

“This Brambledon sounds as though it begs a visit,” the duchess put forth with a kind smile for Nora. “It sounds positively charming.”

“Well, I am so glad you don’t eschew Town or we would never have the pleasure of your company,” Lady Elise said, ever so gracious as she stared directly at Nora.

It really was unfortunate. For some reason, Nora wanted to dislike her.

Yes, it was poorly done of her, but there it was. Lady Elise was lovely and would make a lovely duchess, a lovely wife to Sinclair. As far as Nora could tell, she was far better than he deserved and he should waste no time legitimizing the match.

“Yes. How long will you stay?” The question was polite and innocent enough, but there was something in the dowager marchioness’s eyes that felt . . . unkind. Unlike her niece, the lady did not like her and seemed to want Nora gone from here.

“Well. I . . . er, I have no set departure date yet.” She was not about to disclose the reason she was here was to help the duchess, and as she had not accomplished anything on that score she was not leaving anytime soon.

“With your particular talents, I’m certain they are missing you, m’dear. I’m assuming you treat Warrington’s tenants? And the villagers?”

Nora nodded.

The dowager marchioness continued, “Well. Don’t tarry here too long when you’re needed at home.”

“Thank you for your concern.” She lifted her glass in salute to the lady and then took a long sip, perfectly aware the woman cared nothing for the health and well-being of tenant farmers.

Over the rim of her glass, she saw Sinclair watching her. He’d been far from gregarious this evening other than that brief unexpected rise to her defense.

They all adjourned to the drawing room after dinner.

Sinclair and Lady Elise paired off for a game of cards. It was clear the game was to be exclusive between them. They sat at a small marble-topped table that seated only two.

The dowager marchioness drifted toward her in her black bombazine, her starched skirts cracking like brittle twigs as she hovered over Nora like a great bird of prey. “They’re a handsome pair, are they not?”

Nora smiled tightly. “Indeed, they are.”

“We were crushed, of course, at the passing of Winston. It was so sudden, and so tragic after losing Malcolm and Albert. Too bad you were not here then.” The dowager marchioness clucked her tongue. While the sound clearly intended to be sympathetic it only came across as scathing and mocking. “Perhaps your vast skills could have done something to save him.”

Nora might not be the most adept at navigating social circles and people, but she felt certain the woman was patronizing her.

Of course, Nora could not react. She had to shove down her ire and be polite and make idle chitchat. “Were Lady Elise and Lord Birchwood betrothed for very long?”

“Oh, they knew each other all of their lives. It was always expected they would marry, but they only officially became engaged a few months prior to Winston’s death.”

“How very sad.”

“Indeed, indeed. Elise has trained all her life for this. We always thought she would be the next Duchess of Birchwood. It is only right that Mr. Sinclair upholds the honor of his family and does right by offering for my niece.”

“Oh.” Nora was not certain what she was expected to say to that. For that matter, she was not even certain why Lady Elise’s aunt was singling her out for this conversation. And Nora did feel singled out. “Mr. Sinclair is an honorable man.”

“Yes,” she commented mildly, tipping her head and studying Nora thoughtfully. “He is. Interesting how you know him so well already.”

“It only takes a short time in Mr. Sinclair’s company to discern his character.”

“Speaking of durations of time . . . should your visit here not be coming to an end, m’dear? I know