“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 on him. “Walk with me, would you, sir?” Without waiting for his answer, she rose and led the way outside in a gentle swish of skirts. Of course she was accustomed to being in command. Privilege granted one such a thing.

He followed.

Once outside, he offered her his arm and together they strolled through the gardens in companionable silence. He had never been so grateful for the fact that she wasn’t a chatty female.

“Lovely evening,” she murmured.

“Indeed.”

Then, after some moments of peaceful quiet, she volunteered, “Miss Langley is a very accomplished young lady.”

He slid her a cautious glance. “Yes. She is.”

“Not very traditional.”

“No indeed.” He chuckled lightly. “She is not that.”

“I don’t imagine she would be interested in joining my sewing circle. We’ve been working on pillow lace the past two weeks.”

“Ah,” he said noncommittally, determined not to say anything to even indirectly insult Lady Elise’s pastime. Although he could not help smiling. He could not envision Nora spending even an hour at such a task.

“Well, however disinclined to sewing she may be, I imagine she will one day be a fine partner to some fortunate gentleman.”

Constantine stopped and faced her, no longer believing this was a casual conversation. Lady Elise’s remarks felt very purposeful. “I imagine she will.”