The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,40

strange considering he knew her to be a proven deceiver.

The duchess pointed at a flower and Nora crouched down to collect it for her.

He watched, riveted as she tucked the flower behind the older lady’s ear. The duchess had not suffered a spell since Nora arrived.

He hated to think it, but he almost wished she was hurting so that Nora could attend to her, fix her and then be on her way, every tempting inch of her on her way back to her precious Brambledon.

Tempting.

God, no. He could not think about her in such terms. Just as he should not think of her in that dress from the other night.

Certainly she had looked as no country miss should look in that gown. She was young. He had thought that when he first met her. A young girl with no life experiences beyond that of her small village—someone who played at writing letters and signing her dead papa’s name to them.

He had at least a decade on her and he had not expected to feel a sharp stab of desire for her when he stumbled on her in the hall outside her bedchamber, looking like a luscious peach. Certainly, she was much too young for him. Except in that dress, she had looked ripe and ready. His teeth had ached looking at her. He’d longed for a taste.

The ladies turned and headed back to the house. Presumably, their stroll was over. His attempt to get any work accomplished was over, too.

“Blast it,” he muttered, pushing from the desk.

Nora had been stuck here since her arrival, playing companion to the duchess. She was probably feeling a bit hemmed in, too.

He found her and the duchess in the drawing room, a tea service between them. One of the maids was arranging a small plate of cakes and biscuits for the duchess.

“Ah, Constantine, come and join us,” the duchess greeted as her gaze alighted on him. She waved him over with an imperious hand. “We’ve not seen much of you. You’ve been working much too hard. It’s not healthy, you know.”

He sank down on a wingback chair across from them. “There is much I need to learn.”

“Well, you’ve always been a clever lad. I’m sure it won’t pose any difficulty for you. Don’t you agree, Nora?”

Nora blinked. “I did not know Mr. Sinclair as a lad, but I agree. He appears intelligent.”

Appears. She was comical.

The duchess nodded happily as she bit into a cake, oblivious to Nora’s mocking of him. “What plans have you, Mr. Sinclair?”

“I was thinking of a visit to Middlesex Hospital—”

“Oh. Indeed?” Nora’s entire body leaned forward in her seat, an eager light filling her eyes.

“Oh, dear.” The duchess frowned over the teacup she was lifting to her lips. “Is something amiss with you, too?”

“Me? Oh, no. I am quite hale. The hospital has dissecting rooms and surgical theaters.” Nora’s eyes were now as round as saucers, watching him as though he were announcing words that signified life and death for her. It was deliberate, of course. He knew what he was doing.

She really was the most peculiar female. Other girls cared about shopping and gossip. Especially girls with means, and as the sister-in-law of the Duke of Warrington, she had the means to be as spoiled and vain as any debutante.

Except she wasn’t. She chose not to be. Instead, she was someone who became glassy-eyed with excitement at the mention of visiting a hospital.

“Surgical theaters? My, that sounds impressive,” the duchess said as she selected another biscuit.

“I thought Miss Langley might like to visit and observe them with me.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Nora nodded wildly, rising from the sofa, mindless of the small plate on her lap. It slid to the floor, the biscuits and cakes tumbling onto the rug.

“Oh!” Nora dropped to the floor and hastily picked up the food.

He could not help feeling a happy swelling in his chest. He had suspected this would interest her, but to see her this overjoyed and over such a small thing . . . well, he felt so gratified.

The duchess giggled. “I think you can take that as assent. She would like to accompany you, my good sir.”

Nora rose hurriedly to her feet, fairly bouncing in place. “When? Now? Today? When shall we go?”

“Yes. I was thinking today. Mortimer Street isn’t too far a carriage ride.” He glanced at the duchess. “Unless you are needed here?”

The duchess waved at them. “I have no need of either one of you. Go,