If Nora thought having dinner with Mr. Sinclair might work in her favor, she was mistaken. There was no softening of him toward her. He sat stiff lipped, largely ignoring her as they dined. He spoke to Marian and Nathaniel, but not Nora. Oh, if she asked a direct question of him he would offer a monosyllable response. No more than that. The barest courtesy was only extended to her. Eventually she gave up and finished her meal in silence, attempting to not pout so obviously.

She understood he was displeased with her, but how was she to win him over if he would not speak to her? From the way he avoided even looking at her, she knew he was still angry and as determined as ever to expose her to Durham and the others. He’d said as much and gave no indication that he had changed his mind.

They retired to the drawing room after dinner. Her brother-in-law was not one of those men who abandoned his wife at the first opportunity. Quite the opposite. They spent their evenings together . . . and even much of their days. They sincerely enjoyed each other.

Warrington occupied the sofa beside Marian, smiling at her in his usual besotted fashion as she regaled them with a tale of Mrs. Pratt’s pig that once invaded their garden. It was a story that largely featured Nora as she had been the one to straddle the beast and ride it back home to their neighbor.

In fact, most of Marian’s stories this evening had revolved around Nora. She frowned. Amusing anecdotes all with Nora at the center.

Marian’s laughter eased. “That’s our Nora. Intrepid as the day is long.”

Sinclair dutifully followed Marian’s gaze to Nora. Despite her sister’s rousing affirmation, his eyes remained coolly unmoved.

Nora sat ramrod straight on the sofa, trying to appear natural beneath their scrutiny.

Marian reached for her glass, but something happened. She lost her grip. It slipped ever so slightly, spilling her drink down the front of her gown. “Oh, clumsy me!” she exclaimed as her husband quickly claimed a napkin for her.

Warrington helped her to her feet. Ever the gentleman, Mr. Sinclair rose to his feet, too.

“Oh, please, don’t get up.” Marian waved one hand in reassurance while she settled her other hand on her husband’s arm. “Stay. Finish your drink. Nora will keep you company.”

Nora stifled a groan. Her sister was the height of obvious. Ever since she had married, ever since Charlotte had married, she had been incorrigible, pelting man after man at Nora. Her matchmaking efforts were unsubtle.

Only Nora could not believe her sister was attempting matchmaking now with Sinclair. The man was scarcely civil to her.

The door thudded shut after them, and it was Nora, Sinclair and the footman in the corner.

Silence fell.