The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,66

glance to the gentlemen again as she addressed the duchess. “I’m happy to see you looking so well today, Your Grace.”

“It just had to run its course.” She nodded and looked pointedly in the direction of her husband. “That’s what I keep telling him. I detest the bloodletting. I feel terrible afterward.”

Nora followed her gaze to the duke, finally facing the sight of him. He looked at her with a hint of something in his eyes. Sheepishness, perhaps? He had, after all, spoken to her so horribly in his wife’s bedchamber yesterday, prompting Sinclair to come to her defense. Birchwood had to feel a little awkward given the duchess had sent a maid to fetch her first thing this morning.

Nora tracked Constantine with her gaze. He stood near the window, bathed in the morning light. He looked no worse for wear from last night’s events. At least there was that. He was well. No irreparable harm done.

He caught her looking at him and she snapped her attention back to the tea, pouring a cup for the duchess, mentally chiding herself when her hand unaccountably trembled.

“Here you go, Your Grace.” Nora lifted the teacup up for the duchess with both hands, forcing them steady.

The lady accepted the cup and took a sip, wincing as she did so. “’Tis the most foul concoction, but it is effective at easing my muscles and aches and taking the edge off one’s pain.”

“Are you still suffering, Your Grace?” Nora asked, frowning.

The duchess slid a wary glance to her husband before answering, which informed Nora that there was indeed still some remaining discomfort, but she had no wish to openly divulge this truth. “No. Not really.”

“Maude, m’dear.” The duke tsked. “If you are still hurting you cannot think to entertain tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, I have a few minor aches in my shoulders and my hips, which I live with most of the time,” she snapped. “Rare is the day I do not suffer aches to some degree. I will not stop living my life and I most assuredly will not confine myself to a bed before I must do so.”

Silence followed her outburst. The lady’s hand shook ever so slightly as she lifted her cup and took a few more sips of the tea Nora had prepared for her. With a contented sigh, she handed the cup back to Nora.

“I’ll leave your maid the recipe for the tea,” Nora said, accepting the cup. “With instructions. As with any remedy, you could take too much. Don’t exceed the recommended dosage.” Papa had taught her to be moderate in the use of willow bark. Too much could be dangerous. As with anything . . . any tonic, the elements must be carefully balanced.

Heat crept up her face and she couldn’t resist sneaking another look, only to find Constantine staring intently back at her. Of course. He was thinking of last night and how he had been affected from the dose he had taken.

“Well, I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” the duchess interjected, “but you won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

Nora’s gaze shot back to the lady reclining on the bed. “I was planning to leave today, Your Grace.”

“Nonsense!” The duchess waved a hand in rejection of that notion. “You cannot leave today. Not when I’ve planned a dinner party tomorrow night with you in mind.”

She blinked. “Me?”

“Why, yes, you. I’ve invited my dearest and oldest friend, Mrs. Prentiss, to dine with us. We’ve been friends ever since we came out together. She’s a widow now, but she has the most charming son. Dotes on her, he does. Such a devoted lad.” Her eyes grew misty and Nora suspected she was thinking of her own three sons, all lost to her. The moment passed, however, and she gave her head a slight shake as though clearing it. “You remember him, do you not, Constantine?” she asked in a voice that rang a fraction overly bright.

Nora followed her gaze to Constantine. He remained near the window, as upright and rigid as ever. “I believe so, yes. Always with his nose in a book.”

“Ah, yes, that was true then and remains so today. My godson, Vernon, is quite the scholar.” She preened, nodding as though that was the greatest endorsement she could offer to impress Nora.

“How . . . nice.” Nora was not sure how to respond. “Literacy is always a good . . . thing.” What else could she say?

“So no more talk of you leaving today. You must stay a little while longer.”