And it was a tirade. Nora could hear either one of her sisters’ voices in her ear, telling her she had overstepped. Too late now though.

Sinclair cleared his throat and announced, “I was not finished.”

She settled her glare back on him, braced and ready for more doubtlessly disappointing words.

“Delicate constitutions are not reserved to one gender.”

“That’s true. My sweet Malcolm could never stand the sight of blood. Poor lad. He would swoon at the sight of it.” The duchess cut a delicate piece of lamb and placed it in her mouth, chewing neatly.

“Precisely. As to the matter of who is best suited to work in medicine, I say it depends on the individual and gender has nothing to do with it.”

The table, again, fell to silence.

He’d surprised her. She did not know how to respond. She felt her mouth open and close several times.

Lady Elise smiled at her and then turned her full attention on to Sinclair, as though he were suddenly worth noticing. “Well said, Mr. Sinclair.”

Lady Elise fiddled with her spoon, turning it over in her chilled soup as she gazed at Sinclair, her expression almost . . . besotted. There were no other words for her suddenly starry-eyed expression. She angled her head, arching her long, elegant neck. Her slim fingers stroked the tender line of her throat, almost as though calling attention there.

Again, Nora was confronted with the fact that there was much of her to admire. Her luminescent skin only highlighted the lush beauty of her chestnut hair and hazel eyes.

Lady Elise had not looked at him once during the entire evening, but now she appeared quite enraptured of him.

It was almost as though in coming to Nora’s defense, he had esteemed himself in her eyes.

Splendid.

Nora lifted her glass and took a deep drink, trying to fight the strange swell of emotions in her chest. She filtered through them, singling them out one at a time and setting them aside for examination.

Annoyance. Resentment. Oh, and one emotion that felt dangerously close to . . . inadequacy, and she hated that. It wasn’t like her. Nora Langley was not one to ever suffer feelings of inadequacy. In order to do that, she’d have to care what others thought and the opinions of others had never ranked as a very high priority in her life.

Even though Bea had done wonders to make her look her best, she felt like a dull bird sitting a few seats down from Lady Elise, who seemed to know how to tilt her head and place her hand on her neck just so, in a way that made Nora feel flushed and faintly naughty . . . like she was spying on a couple sneaking a kiss.

Lady Elise spoke again, still brushing a hand along her neck, over her pulse point in that flirty way.