Clem lifted her chin and met a gaze so steely she imagined Medusa would be jealous. Whilst her eyes were also blue, they were no match for these gray, cold orbs that seemed so at odds with his coal black hair. Was there a single part of this man that was soft? She’d wager even his heart was the texture of a great big rock.
“This business with my uncle, Lady Clementine, is causing problems for my aunt. Surely you do not want to see her harmed in any way?”
A shiver travelled down her spine. It could have been from the formal use of her name, something so few people used it sounded alien to her ears, or it might have been how that cold gaze tracked over her as though counting every freckle upon her face.
She saw the disdain there, the judgement. Clementine Musgrave, all red and freckled and disobedient. Freckle number one, caused by playing in the sun at the age of four. Freckle two, from sitting by the river too long without a hat aged eight. Freckle one thousand, forgetting her parasol last summer at Petunia’s picnic.
Well, little did he know, she was born with a tendency to them. No hat or parasol or shady tree could have prevented the things from dotting about her face. The man was wrong about her, and he was wrong about his aunt.
“I am here at your aunt’s request.” She lifted her chin higher, as though pointing her nose skyward would prevent him from looking down upon her.
But it was fruitless, of course. The fact was, everyone looked down upon her and her family. Ever since the incident—or to be more accurateincidents—the Musgraves had been all but snubbed from society and no obscene amount of money or the title of her father could prevent that.
“Well, I did ask Lady Kendall actually,” Mary said meekly.
Dark brows rose. The Marquis of Rochdale looked to Clem. “TheCountessof Kendall.”
“Yes, the Countess of Kendall.” Her far more respectable cousin. None of the Daventry women had caused scandal in London and nearly kidnapped the Prince Regent’s dog and…
Well, goodness, one of the biggest scandals was the marquis’s fault anyway. How dare he look down upon her as though she did not belong here? She was the daughter of an earl, after all.
“She, in turn, asked me to aid your aunt,” Clem explained, quite surprised how calm her voice emerged.
Inwardly she trembled, from her toes sealed into sturdy walking boots to the very ends of her fingertips, currently curled into the soft sofa fabric beneath her. One by one, she released her fingers and set them gently in her lap. This man must not know how much he aggravated her.
She was not in the wrong here. He was. He’d been in the wrong ever since he’d persuaded her young and naive brother to consume far too much alcohol and then…well…it wasn’t an image one wanted of one’s youngest sibling anyway.
Easing out a slow breath, she met his gaze and tried not to think about how striking he was against the backsplash of pale colors that comprised his aunt’s drawing room.
“The only way you can help my aunt, my lady—” he responded slowly as though she was dense indeed “—is if you leave this matter to those who care about her. Like her family.”
“I do care about her!”
His lips quirked. Damn him. She saw him score it in his head. Marquis one, Clem nil. He’d riled her.
“That is,” she said slowly, releasing the grip she had on her muslin skirts and spying the crinkles she’d left, “your aunt is a good friend of mine and if there is anything I can do to aid her, I will.”
“You can aid her, by not encouraging these...these...” He waved a hand. “Delusions.”
“Roman!” His aunt straightened. “I am not a madwoman as you well know.”
His shoulders rounded and Clem allowed herself a little smile. Marquis one, Clem one.
“I did not mean delusions, Aunt Mary. Perhaps they are more like dreams.”
“I know what I saw,” Mary said firmly.
“Yes, but what you saw has thrown the estate in disarray.” Lord Rochdale pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am certain if Lady Clementine is indeed your friend, she will appreciate that the estate was due to be settled next week. With this new sighting of Uncle Albert, his children are going to ensure further delays.”
Mary sniffed. “I cannot lie about what I saw.”
Lord Rochdale swung Clementine the briefest tired look. It saidsee what you have done?but Clem could not see how she had caused any of this. How like the man who would not even apologize for what he did to her brother Basil to blame her.
“Not even to save you from the situation?”
“She is not destitute, is she?” Clem asked.
“She has the house but little else. No income to care for it, and many of the furnishings belong to my uncle’s estate.”