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But he really did not want a Musgrave involved with his family’s history. The less people knew about it the better. It had been his father’s ambition that the sins of their past would be entirely forgotten within his generation; however, there were still murmurings, it seemed.

Having one’s lands and titles stripped and subsequently returned was not something people forgot easily, especially when those lands and titles had only been gifted back by the crown some two generations ago. With an impeccable reputation and a sensible wife, Roman hoped he could be the one to fulfill his family’s dream. Soon no one would recall a time when the Marquises of Rochdale were shamed and banished.

“Perhaps Lady Clementine should return home,” he suggested. “This isn’t—”

“Oh no.” Lady Clementine shook her head vigorously, making copper curls bounce against her cheeks. “I am not going anywhere.” She looked to Aunt Mary. “What is this letter and why should someone break the law to get it?”

Aunt Mary grinned. Roman’s heart sank. For some reason, his aunt was enjoying this far too much. Did she not realize what was at stake? Did she not care for their family reputation? He loved the woman deeply; Aunt Mary had been the antithesis to his father—softness where there had been none at home—but he did not appreciate Lady Clementine indulging her eccentricities. His aunt was many things—kind, funny, charitable—but she was also somewhat of a prima donna, and loved attention far too much.

“Let us convene to somewhere more...suitable.” Aunt Mary clasped her cane and made her way down the corridor toward wide doors that opened out onto a balcony.

Designed to trap the afternoon sun, the area offered several chairs ready for them and a table laid with lemonade and shortbread biscuits. He narrowed his gaze at his aunt as she gestured for them to sit on either side of her.

“Expecting guests?” he asked.

“I’m always ready for guests,” she responded tartly.

His aunt was playing games—he just did not quite know what the game was nor what the rules were. With Aunt Mary, few things were predictable.

“What a lovely spot.” Lady Clementine waited for his aunt to sit before easing onto the chair next to her and taking an offered biscuit. “Look, you can see half of Bath from here.”

How like Lady Clementine. Why did he find himself surrounded by unpredictable women?

“It’s one of my favorite places,” Roman’s aunt confirmed. “I can see everyone coming and going but enjoy the peace and quiet.”

Roman snorted.

“What is it, my dear nephew?”

“You don’t want peace and quiet, Aunt Mary. Anyone who know you knows that.”

“Sometimes one needs a little silence to soothe the soul.” She gestured vaguely. “Only occasionally, though.” Her lips pursed. “Will you not sit down, Roman? You are hurting my neck.”

With a sigh, he sat. What was it about these women that meant he could be commanded so easily? He was a powerful lord with the sort of manner which had everyone scuttling to obey him. Not today, though, and not with either of these two.

Lady Clementine nibbled on the edge of the biscuit and Roman forced his attention to the scenery about them instead of focusing on the tiny crumb dancing at the corner of her lip. Someone—not him, though—would want to lean in and smooth it from her mouth or perhaps even kiss it away.

Most certainly not him.

“Now this letter...” Lady Clementine pressed.

Roman scowled. He suspected he knew which letter his aunt was speaking of and he did not like the fact it even still existed one jot.

Aunt Mary laced her fingers over her stomach. “Well, it is evidence.”

“Evidence of what?” he demanded.

His aunt eyed him as though he were a dolt. “Of the great love affair that had our family stripped of their assets.”

“But of course.”

Lady Clementine leaned in. “What did the letter say?”

“It was from Thomas, declaring his great undying love for the princess. It was intercepted you see, by another man. It was rumored that it was a servant so desperately in love with her that he was willing to go to her husband to prevent her from running away with her lover.”

“I didn’t know the contents,” Roman said.

“Well, your father did not tell you much about the whole matter. He wanted it all forgotten. But the letter was passed down through the women of the family and finally to me,” his aunt explained.


Tags: Samantha Holt Historical