Nora was only too happy to leave the chamber. Perhaps on her own, alone, away from them all, away from Sinclair, she could comprehend why she had agreed to stay here longer in this place where she did not belong.

Chapter 23

Constantine waited a moment after Nora departed the room and then gave a mental curse. Excusing himself, he followed her as though an invisible string connected him to her.

“Nora,” he called, attempting to catch up with her in the corridor.

She visibly stiffened, but continued walking as though she had not heard him. In fact, her strides seemed to quicken.

She intends to ignore me now?

Was this because of what they did in his bedchamber . . . or because of his colossal fumbling muddle of a marriage proposal? Perhaps it was both things. All the things. That seemed likely.

He had mismanaged every bloody bit of it.

His offer of marriage had felt the honorable thing to do at the time—but then he had not been thinking rationally. Not been feeling himself at all. He had been lost to the euphoric aftermath of his release.

Never had he experienced such a climax. It had to be the tonic. Certainly his reaction was not particular to Nora. Any female could have brought forth such a reaction. Certainly what he felt for Nora wasn’t . . . unique.

She had simply relieved his . . . affliction. Because that was what she did as a healer. She cured people.

It just so happened to be that his affliction was a raging erection.

He had been hasty with his words.

Nora was still a maid. No one knew of her time in his bedchamber last night. Her reputation was intact.

He should never have offered for her. He’d been out of his head. Of course she did not want him for a husband. He had not known her for very long, but he knew already that Nora Langley was an unorthodox female. She was not after marriage. It was not something to which she aspired.

He lengthened his strides and called her name again.

Finally, she stopped. He stared at the back of her, noting the rigid set to her shoulders. Slowly, she turned, her reluctance evident.

She settled an icy cool gaze on him. “Yes?”

He exhaled. “Thank you. Thank you for staying. I know you wanted to leave today.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “I did not do this for you. Let us be clear on that.”

“Of course. You’re doing it for the duchess.”

She nodded slightly and some of the tension seemed to dissipate from her at his acknowledgment of this. “Her Grace has gone to the trouble of planning this dinner for me. I will attend.”

“Of course.” He nodded, not caring her reason for staying, only stupidly, unreasonably glad that she was.

She looked him over carefully. “How are you feeling this morning?”