“Whyever do you think I’m here, my dear?” she asked Clementine. “I wanted to see how the investigation was going. Your cousins are frightfully annoyed they cannot be of service, but I told them you would have it all in hand. And—” she looked to Roman “—it seems you really do have it all in hand.”
If he had a tendency to blush, he’d be doing it right now. Mrs. Knighton enjoyed the respectability that came with being a duke’s blood relative but clearly, she carried similar traits to the Musgraves. It must be in the blood. If he was a smart man, he’d run for the hills after this encounter and never look back.
Regrettably, every interaction he’d taken part in with Clementine had proven every sour word his father had uttered about Roman’s intellect. Besides, he could not run from his obligation to his aunt. He was staying. Which meant he’d have to be a lot more cautious in future. He caught Clementine’s relieved smile.
There would most definitely be no more near kisses.
Chapter Twelve
So close.
So darned close.
Ivy would have been smug, reminding Clementine how she always warned her against breaking the rules of Society. Imagine returning home to declare she was engaged to be married to Lord Rochdale! Her sister would have been equal parts horrified and righteous. She couldn’t say how her other sisters would have reacted but she imagined Violet would march over to Lord Rochdale’s house and demand he allow Clementine to break the engagement.
Of course, none of these scenarios needed to happen and thank goodness. Being married to Roman would be a fate worse than death, surely? They were far too different and he was far too starchy and rulebound. Plus she knew he disapproved of her—he told her so with every tightening of his mouth.
Did he have to look so horrified, though? He had been the one to nearly kiss her, after all. At least, she thought so.
Shaking her head, Clem focused on following the two aunts down the corridor toward the parlor room and ignoring the man walking beside her. They’d been lucky. If anyone else had discovered them, they would be engaged by now. She should not be dwelling on hurt egos or whether or not they might have kissed had they not been interrupted.
“Maybe you should leave,” she whispered to Roman, avoiding looking at him.
“This is my aunt’s house,” he responded in low tones. “Do you not think that would appear odd?”
“Well, my aunt only just arrived. I cannot suddenly depart.”
“We are stuck here.”
She sighed. “It seems so.”
“Not that it matters. We were only investigating.”
“Precisely.”
“But from now on, you should investigate on your own or…or with a companion.”
Clem pressed her lips together. Her sisters had their own hobbies and passions and rarely got involved with hers. She didn’t mind it much—it meant when they spent time together, they all had so much to talk about, and she would far rather have sisters who were interesting than those who hung onto others like limp parasites.
She risked a look at him. “I thought you wanted discretion?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“We shall not be in such a position again, I promise you.”
“No. Right. Of course.” His throat bobbed slightly. “Excellent.”
Was he still panicking over nearly being engaged to an awful Musgrave? It was quite hypocritical of him really when she had far more reason to not wish to marry him.
“I’ll ring for tea,” Mary said, tugging on the nearby bell pull.
The faint ring echoed through the house, reminding Clem just how empty the grand building was. She had many reasons for wishing to push ahead with this investigation but if it helped Mary finally gain control of her finances from her stepchildren, that would be a fine thing indeed.
Somehow, as the aunts remained standing and pondering aloud where to sit, Clem ended up on the sofa next to Roman.
“You shall go there, Sarah,” Mary declared and pointed to the chair at Clem’s right as though she had made a marvelous discovery.
Aunt Sarah dropped into the seat and immediately plucked pins from her turban then unwound the thing with a sigh of relief. Endless lengths of dark and pale gray hair spilled over her shoulders and Clem pondered how Aunt Sarah would stuff it all back in later without the help of a lady’s maid.