The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,9

drawing room with tea.

She entered the room, noting the gentleman standing at the window. Nora did not recognize him from her vantage. He stood with his back to her, a straight and stalwart figure looking out the mullioned glass at the expansive green lawn. The sunlight struck his hair and it glinted blue-black in the brightness.

His hands were clasped very correctly behind him. That, combined with his erect bearing, gave an impression of severity. It was hard to fathom he might be here due to some sort of ailment. Even without seeing his face he struck her as hale.

She cleared her throat. “Hello, there,” she greeted, expecting to recognize him once he turned to face her. If he was here to see her, she had likely met him before. There were few people in Brambledon whom she did not know or whom she had not treated.

He turned and she was not wrong, unfortunately.

She knew him . . . in a manner.

She had seen him before. Blast it all. She suspected that when she closed her eyes, she would see him for days to come.

Chapter 4

Nora recognized him even though he was respectably clothed this time.

Her last sight of him had been at the pond . . . and he had been naked. She could envision him as she had last observed him, the lines and angles and hollows of his body dappled in sunlight, speckled with droplets of water. He might be standing in an elegant drawing room, but she could strip away his garments in her mind and see him so clearly. Drat. She had thought she’d seen the last of him.

“You,” she breathed.

“You,” he returned, looking mildly jarred at the unexpected sight of her, which echoed their first encounter.

As he looked her up and down, she sensed his judgment and resisted the urge to fidget. Given her attire, he likely thought her a servant. She certainly did not appear to belong in these refined surroundings. He doubtlessly did not think her a member of Warrington’s family.

She squared her shoulders and reminded herself that she might not be a highborn lady who presided over drawing rooms, but she resided in this house. She was a member of Warrington’s family and she belonged here, however unnatural it felt at times.

She belonged here, and he did not.

Chin aloft, she turned to the footman who stood nearby, tucked into a corner of the room. She’d almost forgotten his presence. The number of servants Warrington kept on staff still astounded her.

“Thank you, Archie. You may leave us.”

Ever proper, the footman inclined his head and departed the room.

Once confident he was out of earshot—it would not do for the servants to gossip about her below stairs—she charged ahead. “You’ve a great deal of cheek calling here, sirrah.”

What is he doing here? Is he here to apologize to the master of the house for availing himself of his pond?

“Have I?” he asked, bowing slightly, as though in afterthought, but his gaze remained fastened on her as he extended her the courtesy.

She did not like that stare on her one little bit.

That dark gaze of his was unnerving. His eyes were so dark it was impossible to determine where his pupils ended and began. Much too unnerving and much too unreadable. She felt exposed. As though he were peeling back all her layers to see to the core of her, which was as impossible as it was ridiculous.

This man, this stranger, did not know her . . . and he could not see to the truth of her.

So few people could. Her friends from girlhood had all grown up and married and started their families. They were busy with their own households and did not have time for her—unless it was for medicinal reasons. Sometimes she wondered if even her sisters truly understood her. They were happily married, and were often pointing out gentlemen in the village to her, bachelors they deemed suitable . . . as though they believed Nora should join their ranks and marry, too. As though it were that easy to fall in love. As though Nora even wanted to.

“Indeed. Have you come here to apologize for earlier today?” she repeated.

“Apologize?” He said the word slowly, as though it were a foreign thing he was testing out on his tongue. “No. No, I did not come here to apologize.”

“You did not?” She canted her head and sharpened her gaze on him. Everything about his presence here baffled her and an uneasy sensation