“I hardly think a royal affair from three hundred years ago is going to make current news.”
“Then you think wrong, Lady Clementine.”
It had taken his family long enough to recover their lands and good name after the scandal all those generations ago. He wouldn’t risk knowledge of it being dredged up again. He couldn’t. His father and grandfather and great-grandfather would likely come back from the dead to haunt him forever, and he wouldn’t blame them.
“If you really want my help, you can cease with this Lady Clementine business. We have known each other long enough for you to call me Clem.”
He didn’t like it. Not the same per se, which rather suited her—short, to the point, slightly sweet... Roman scowled. Was he really thinking of Clementine as sweet? He glanced over the stubborn point of a slightly squared chin then skipped his gaze over the freckles, the long red lashes surrounding eyes that shone to almost a cornflower blue in the bright sunlight of the day. If one did not know her as a Musgrave, one could be mistaken for thinking she was sweet, he supposed.
“We hardly know each other, Lady Clementine.”
“We do not, that is correct, and frankly, I’m quite happy to keep it that way. After what you did to my brother—”
“That had nothing to do with me.”
“I have no desire to get to know you. However, we have technically been acquainted since my debut.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Her debut... Lord, he’d almost forgotten. Prior to the Musgraves being cut from Society, she had been quite the sought-after debutante. Despite her family being new money, the mother was the daughter of a duke, and they were wealthy enough to entice many a debt-ridden man into matrimony with the daughter—and she’d very nearly been wed until she had broken off her engagement to a man whose name he could not recall. All he remembered was there had been the slightest strange pang of disappointment when he heard the lively Lady Clementine was no longer available.
A fine job she had been engaged, really. He did not need his family name entangled with hers, and what a poor match they would have made. He was nearly a decade older now and much wiser.
Clementine put hands to her hips and angled her chin so he could not avoid her gaze. With her a mere pace or so away, there was no avoiding her brazen stare anyway. No doubt, as a scandalous Musgrave who did not much care for the rules of Society, she was accustomed to getting her way.
She was dealing with the wrong man.
“Lady Clementine,” he said firmly, “I have need of your skills.”
Her gaze narrowed, her nose wrinkling slightly in a way that confirmed the idea which had been settling in his head for this entire exchange.
Sweet. Definitely sweet.
“Clem.”
“Lady Clementine,” he countered.
“Do you really want my help or not?”
“Do you really want to see what’s inside a hidden compartment in my aunt’s house?”
Her eyes widened and her chest rose until she released a long, frustrated breath. He allowed himself his own smug smile.
“A secret compartment?” she whispered, as though he had just told her he’d discovered the Holy Grail. “Truly?”
“Indeed, and…someone…was trying to access it just last night.”
Roman didn’t think it was possible for someone’s eyes to grow any bigger but hers did, making her look far too sweet and innocent for his liking. As hard as he tried to control every aspect of his life, he was a mere man, and there was something horribly tempting about the combination of hidden curves and sweet innocence. His desire to carve through that sweetness, to ruffle her and make her blush, shot through him like a bolting horse. He didn’t want it to escape but he had no choice. It raced through him on thundering hooves, hammering home the reality.
He was attracted to Clementine Musgrave.
“Did you see them?” she asked. She frowned and waved a hand in front of his face. “Lord Rochdale?”
Giving himself a mental shake, he placed his hands behind his back. Not because he feared grabbing her, because what sort of a man would do that to a woman who essentially considered him an enemy in public? Not him, to be certain.
No chance.
He had a reputation to uphold and if he could do one damned thing right, it would be to keep the family name intact. And marry the right woman too, of course. That would all go to hell if he did not snap out of this strange trance Clementine had him in.
“I asked if you saw the intruder?”