∞∞∞
The uttered promise made Roman Avery bunch his fists at his side. Both women were so wrapped in this discussion of this so-called sighting of his uncle that they hadn’t even heard him enter the room.
He eyed the back of the woman’s head, her coiled red hair giving away her identity instantly. She and her unusual family brought trouble no matter where they went. And to think they were the ones who had accusedhimof wrongdoing all those years ago.
He stepped farther into the room with a shake of his head. But of course Clementine Musgrave would encourage his aunt’s flights of fancy—a flight of fancy that had caused a ripple of problems already. His uncle’s estate was close to settled but his vile children were using this sighting as an excuse to drag their lawyers into the matter once more. This supposed sighting ensured they had enough to hold up the funds Aunt Mary was due, leaving her with nothing but this large house that had been in dower, and no damned money to run the place.
If this situation continued, it was inevitable—Aunt Mary would be moving in with him at Seaton Hall.
He glanced at the white dog settled upon his aunt’s lap and felt the tickle in the back of his nose with a grimace.
Make that Aunt Mary and her many, many dogs.
A sneeze escaped him before he could retrieve a handkerchief from his pocket. Both women turned with a start and the white terrier careened toward him, barking and clawing up Roman’s legs. He remained still and accepted the dog’s excitement, but he saw the moment Lady Clementine realized who he was. Her delicate mouth thinned, her blue eyes grew colder. Every ounce of warmth in her freckled face vanished. He clamped his teeth together. She had no right to loathe him as much as he loathed her. After all,hewas not the one in the wrong.
“Roman!” Aunt Mary slowly rose, scooped the dog up and shooed it out of the door behind him before closing it.
He did his best to hold his breath until the dog was gone though the incessant tickle made his eyes water and he swiped a hand over his face with a sigh.
“If I had known you were visiting, I would have kept the dogs in the garden all morning.” His aunt moved onto tiptoes to kiss his cheek and he had to stop another sigh escaping him.
He returned her kiss with an embrace, drawing the small woman into his hold briefly before releasing her. Aware of Lady Clementine’s gaze upon him, he cleared his throat and straightened. He had nothing to be ashamed of—Aunt Mary was one of his few relations left and a good woman who deserved better than squabbling stepchildren and a penniless existence. It did not stop him from being wholly aware of Lady Clementine watching his every move like a viper ready to strike.
Well, he would be the one striking today. He’d had enough of the Musgraves to last a lifetime, and he’d be damned if she was going to get involved in this nonsense about his uncle. Any fool could see it was simply his aunt’s overactive imagination, or a dream.
“We have had a priest, private investigators, and even a séance.” He removed one glove, then the other as he took the seat next to his aunt, rested the gloves upon the arm, and lounged back. He met Lady Clementine’s cold stare, allowing the slightest smug smile to flicker across his lips as he made himself comfortable. “What exactly do you plan to do, Lady Clementine, to find out what the ghost of my uncle wants?”
“It was not a ghost,” his aunt stated.
“It was not a ghost,” Lady Clementine repeated firmly.
When she leaned forward, he gained a better view of generous curves almost spilling over a square neckline. He averted his gaze but not quickly enough. The image sealed itself on his mind—pale, freckle-dashed skin against cream fabric. The freckles told a tale of recklessness, of a girl never ordered to stay out of the sun. She might well be a pretty sort of a woman with a delicate oval face that belonged in paintings, but he shouldn’t even be looking. The last thing he needed was recklessness in his life.
Or his aunt. Or one dog, let alone half a dozen.
“There has been no sighting of Uncle Albert since his disappearance,” Roman pointed out, “and no evidence he is in Bath. Or can you claim to know more than at least three experienced investigators, Lady Clementine?”
She straightened, drawing her chin up. “Well, my lord, perhaps they did not want to find him.”
Despite years of acquaintance, they had never moved to informality. He was quite happy to keep it that way. The day the Musgraves had accused him of being part of the very scandal that had them all but expelled from London was the day he swore he would never even try to be friendly with them. His father had worked hard to save his family’s name from the tarnish of scandal, and he would not have these reckless women dragging him down with them.
Roman narrowed his gaze at Lady Clementine. Maybe she simply wanted to cause him aggravation. This whole business of the sighting of his uncle needed finalizing before the start of the London Season. Or sooner preferably. After all, he had marriage negotiations to make. He had a duty to marry now he was the marquis, and he was going to fulfill that duty as soon as earthly possible with a woman perfect for the role of marchioness.
No reckless young Musgrave was going to get in the way of that.
Chapter Two
Mama had few rules. Clem and her sisters were allowed to live more freely than many women of their rank. Her father’s humble, title-less beginnings were responsible for a lot of that. However, Mama was the daughter of a duke and never tolerated curse words.
Thank goodness Mama could not hear inside her head. Many, many of them tumbled through Clem’s mind and threatened to burst free. She glanced between the delicate old woman and the beast of a man occupying a chair with legs so spindly she feared they would crack underneath him.
The Marquis of Rochdale was no overweight, self-indulgent man, though. Oh no. Quite the opposite. She had never seen him in anything other than the most exquisitely presented clothing but there was no escaping the great carving of stone that was his body. He had a reputation for being quite the horseman and excellent at fencing too. She rather imagined if an ounce of fat even dared to try to settle upon his body, he simply glared at it until it scarpered away.
Well, just because he was physically strong and had the most impervious air did not mean she would back down. She was starting to realize why this investigative society was so necessary. The man didn’t even believe his aunt—a woman, Clem had to begrudgingly admit, he was incredibly sweet to.
Hell fire.
Oops. Well, one curse word would not hurt, would it?