She had to find a way inside that room. Except how would she gain entry to his chamber through the door he had barred? She could not simply fly in through his balcony doors like some winged savior.

Through his balcony doors.

Turning, she spun around and raced back to her bedchamber, which happened to be only a couple rooms down from him.

She closed the chamber door firmly behind her and advanced on her balcony. Flinging open the double doors, she stepped out into the spring evening and looked resolutely to her left, examining the course necessary to reach Sinclair’s room.

Two other balconies loomed between their rooms, but she could reach his balcony by stepping out onto the small ledge that jutted from the side of the house. She need take only a few steps between each balcony to reach his chamber. She estimated that the length of her foot would mostly fit upon the ledge. Mostly. She hoped.

Before she could change her mind or let fear take hold of her, she found herself straddling the balcony and stepping onto the ledge.

This is madness.

As soon as the thought flitted through her mind, she dismissed it—banished it. She was no feeble lady. She walked miles of countryside every day and had climbed plenty of trees in her lifetime. She could tackle this.

Nora experienced a stab of alarm when she reached the first balcony. That had not been easy. Her skirts hampered her quite a bit and it required some careful maneuvering, but she managed to swing a leg over the railing and drop down, her palms scraping slightly on the chilled stone.

She blew out a breath and shoved to her feet, dusting off her palms. She should have changed, but too late now, and there was no time to waste. She needed to keep going. He needed her. Whether he wanted her help or not, he would have it.

Bulky skirts or not, she continued. She crossed over to the next balcony and then finally reached his, arriving at his balcony door to find it unlocked, thankfully.

She pushed open the door unceremoniously, anxious to see him and verify that he was not in fact on death’s doorstep—that she had not poisoned him.

It took her a moment to acclimate to the room. Lamplight filled the chamber, but failed to reach to all the corners as it was a large space, much larger than her own, of course. It boasted a full sitting area with a sofa and a duo of wingback chairs.

The bed was easy to locate. It was a great monstrosity. The covers were rumpled into several messy piles. She stepped closer and then spotted him, spotted a single foot dangling off the bed and the long stretch of a leg leading into his hip. Naked.

All of him was naked.