“Miss Langley is my guest. Have a care how you address her.”

Nora looked back and forth between the two men, sensing an exchange passing between them, a dialogue she could not understand.

“Your guest?”

“Yes.” The single word fell dark and heavy, and something physically came over the duke’s body. The older man settled back on his heels, his shoulders easing, sinking as he stared wide-eyed at Sinclair.

“Come now,” Sinclair said gently beside her, turning away from Birchwood. “Let’s take some air. You’ve been cooped up in this room long enough. You must be overly tired.”

She looked helplessly at the wan duchess in the middle of the bed, reluctant to leave her. Her face was drawn tight in pain. Her head rolled side to side on the pillow, her lips muttering nonsensical words. At least she was unaware of what was going on around her. She was spared their squabbling.

He settled his hand on her elbow and tugged her away until she let go of the doctor. She nodded numbly and let herself be led from the room.

Of course, it was time to leave the chamber. Just as it was time to leave this place—this house, this city.

She had not succeeded. She had not accomplished the one thing she was supposed to do here.

“You did your best.”

She slipped her arm free of Sinclair and looked up at him. “You don’t believe that. You did not think I could help her in the first place.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know that anyone can help her.” He nodded back toward the chamber. “He has attended her several times and he hasn’t cured her yet. Perhaps no one can.”

And yet Nora had been so confidant. Arrogant even. Her disappointment was keen. She crossed her arms across her chest. “Since I am no longer needed here, I’ll leave on the morrow.”

He blinked. “What?”

“It is clear my purpose here is at an end.” She swallowed, regretting the tightness in her voice. She did not want him to think she was hurt. She did not want his pity.

For a moment he appeared astonished, quietly staring at her. Then, he said, “You needn’t rush away. The duchess quite enjoys your company.”

“I am not a hired companion, Mr. Sinclair.”

Of course, that was how they viewed her, how she best fit in here. As a glorified servant. One step above the downstairs staff, but not one of them. Never one of them.

She did not know why that bothered her so much. She had not given much thought to rank before. Perhaps it was the fact that she was so obviously not in the same class as Mr. Sinclair. That he was far removed from her. That they were not equal in the eyes of Society.