Sometimes she even forgot that she had married an heir to a dukedom. She rather suspected that her husband forgot, too. Or at least that he did not care. He preferred to live as Constantine Sinclair and not the Birchwood heir.

One day, in the future, the title would be his. When that day arrived, he would accept it—they would accept it. On their terms. Together.

He would define the role and not the other way around.

Naturally, Nora and Constantine did not fill their days with balls and routs and social calls. They did not visit court or pander to the Duke and Duchess of Birchwood. They lived their own life together and it was splendid.

They had seen very little of the Duke and Duchess of Birchwood since they had married. They’d chosen a different path and it was not one the Duke of Birchwood approved, but Constantine did not mourn the loss of the duke’s approval. Indeed not. They spent much of their time contentedly at home in the country. They had only just recently moved back to Town in time for Nora to begin medical school.

Up until this point, Nora had continued practicing the herbal arts and medicine whilst Constantine had turned his energy to matters of veteran affairs. There was very little in place for soldiers upon returning home, so Constantine had created multiple charity houses to support injured and aging soldiers, helping them acclimate and ease back into society. They each had their separate vocations as well as each other—as well as their life together.

And it was a wonderful existence.

“Well, if plain is your goal, you have succeeded,” Bea declared.

Nora rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Bea. As always, your honesty is valued.”

“Quite so.” Bea nodded efficiently and stood back with a proud smile. “Now. Good luck today. You’ve worked hard and you deserve this.”

Nora stepped forward to embrace the maid she had so long ago insisted she did not want in her life. So very many things had changed since then. She never thought she wanted a husband. She never thought she wanted children. How very wrong she had been on all those counts . . . and how happy she was in her wrongness today.

After inspecting herself one final time in the mirror, Nora nodded at her reflection. She felt suitably attired and ready for her first day. Not only her first day, but the first day for all female medical students in Great Britain. It was a momentous occasion. Historic even.

She would be entering the London School of Medicine for Women as one of its first students since the passing of the new medical act allowing the licensing of all qualified persons to be doctors, regardless of gender.