“Oh, they knew each other all of their lives. It was always expected they would marry, but they only officially became engaged a few months prior to Winston’s death.”

“How very sad.”

“Indeed, indeed. Elise has trained all her life for this. We always thought she would be the next Duchess of Birchwood. It is only right that Mr. Sinclair upholds the honor of his family and does right by offering for my niece.”

“Oh.” Nora was not certain what she was expected to say to that. For that matter, she was not even certain why Lady Elise’s aunt was singling her out for this conversation. And Nora did feel singled out. “Mr. Sinclair is an honorable man.”

“Yes,” she commented mildly, tipping her head and studying Nora thoughtfully. “He is. Interesting how you know him so well already.”

“It only takes a short time in Mr. Sinclair’s company to discern his character.”

“Speaking of durations of time . . . should your visit here not be coming to an end, m’dear? I know you said you did not know yet when you would depart, but I hope it is sooner rather than later.” She lowered her voice to a hush. “Perhaps I’m bold saying this, but the duke and duchess may be entertaining again and this house no longer shrouded in mourning, but it is very much a place of grief. Their loss is great. As you’re from the country and rather provincial, I fear you may lack direction in such matters. You should not overstay your welcome, m’dear. Besides, I am quite certain your little country hamlet misses you. Won’t you be more comfortable there? Where you belong? Certainly you must feel a little out of sorts here.”

Leave. Go. Be gone. Take yourself back to the den from whence you came.

Those were the words she heard. Her first London dinner party and one of the guests wanted to make sure she understood that she didn’t belong here.

“Thank you for the advice. I will keep that in mind.” She smoothed a hand over her skirts and noted that it trembled ever so slightly. “You know, I suddenly feel weary. If you will pardon me, I’m going to retire for the night.”

“Of course.” The dowager marchioness smiled smugly, looking supremely pleased with herself.

Nora quickly rose to her feet and bid good eve to everyone, primarily focusing on her hosts, her attention straying only briefly to the others. Especially to Sinclair. For some reason, she found it difficult to look at him with the dowager’s words ringing in her ears. Certainly you must feel a little out of sorts here.

The woman was right. She was out of sorts and everyone knew it. Even Sinclair. Perhaps that was the true reason he had not wanted her here. Nora did not belong here, and he knew it.

Chapter 13