further interaction, and she had no business concerning herself with his actions.
“Miss Langley?”
“Hm?” She refocused on the gentleman beside her.
“Did you hear my question?” he pressed, his eyes gleaming at her in the evening gloom.
She supposed she had not. As interesting as she happened to find him, her thoughts drifted to Constantine again and again. Right or wrong, she could not stop herself.
She supposed he was in the drawing room by now. She did not imagine he would keep Lady Elise waiting for long. He was too gentlemanly for that.
Nora could see them now in her mind, their handsome heads bent close together in genial conversation.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Do you think we should return to the drawing room now?” She turned back in the direction they had come, to the well-lit house, not giving Mr. Prentiss a choice to the contrary. She had been somewhat coerced into the stroll. She was actually surprised at how readily the duchess approved their walk, beaming her assent when he asked Nora if she would care for a stroll.
She had obliged and now she was ready to return inside.
Mr. Prentiss stayed at her side, keeping a fast grip on her arm. She could not help noticing how his thumb moved in a small circle against the inside of her arm. She resisted the urge to yank her arm free and simply quickened her steps, eager to reach the room where she might be rid of his touch.
“So soon?” he inquired with an unbecoming pout to his voice.
Up ahead a footman stood sentry at the balcony doors leading into the drawing room and a relieved breath slipped past her lips. “I should like to visit with the ladies, too,” she responded vaguely.
“How long will you be staying in Town? There is a fine exhibit I should like to escort—”
“I will be departing at the week’s end.” She assumed so, at least. Perhaps sooner if she could extricate herself from the duchess. She had not chosen a particular day, but Nora could not stay here forever. She saw no point in remaining to attend Constantine’s betrothal ball. Her presence was not necessary for that.
In fact, she preferred to be far away when that happened.
“Oh, well. There is some time then. Perhaps Wednesday you would like to accompany me?”
“I shall have to see what the duchess has in store for me. She keeps me quite occupied.” Not an untruth precisely.
The footman opened the doors for them and they stepped inside.
She was correct in assuming Constantine would have joined them by now. She was also correct to assume he would be sitting beside Lady Elise.
“Ah! Back so soon,” the duchess declared, sharing a conspiratorial wink with her friend, Mrs. Prentiss.
She looked to Constantine. He gazed at her with an unreadable expression.
“Ah. Yes.” She nodded and lightly touched her temple, suddenly landing on the excuse. “I’ve a bit of an aching head.”
“Oh. Hope you’re not coming down with anything.” The duchess tsked with a concerned shake of her head.
“Indeed. Perhaps you should retire early for the night?” the duke suggested, his expression as empty as ever when he looked at her. At least since she had dared to interfere with his and Sir Anthony’s care of his wife and Sinclair had challenged him on her behalf.
Since that had happened, the duke’s aversion for her was palpable even during this evening’s dinner that the duchess claimed, ironically, was in Nora’s honor.
“Yes.” Clearly the duke desired to be rid of her, but Nora did not care. She clung greedily to the excuse, her gaze skimming Constantine with his elusive stare and Mr. Prentiss with his faintly hungry look. “I think I will retire for the night. Thank you for that suggestion, Your Grace.” She would happily remove herself from this room and its inhabitants. “Good evening, all.”
Turning, she departed the room, feeling a number of stares boring into her back.
Constantine stared after Nora even though it was evident she was gone from the room. He felt as though he were caught in some manner of spell—a trance—and he could not look away.
Conversation flowed around him in the drawing room, but he heard not a single word. He could not bring himself to focus on them. He continued to stare at the double doors as though she might return.
Of course she would not.
If he had the good fortune to leave, he would not return either.
“Mr. Sinclair?”
At the dulcet voice, he dragged his attention to Lady Elise. “Yes?”
She bestowed a forbearing smile