“My aunt says you chased an intruder. Tolly says the bast—” He paused. “He said the person knocked one of his men senseless. He said you were lucky he didn’t do the same to you.”
“Well Mr. Tolly has a lot of things to say.”
And Clem had already suffered a scolding from the man Roman hired. But what else was she meant to do? Sit around and wait to see if the intruder came and attacked them all? Leave this mystery to solve itself or for Aunt Mary to wind up harmed in some way?
“Mr. Tolly is not wrong.”
“I ensured the house was locked and I checked on your man. There was little else I could do. Well. Until I ran off after the intruder, I suppose.”
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “You could have returned to the house. You could have not given chase at all. At the very least, you could have found Tolly.”
“By which time, the man would have escaped.”
“The man did escape,” he pointed out. “And you ended up injured.”
“It’s only a sprain.” She ignored the pang of protest her ankle decided to give as if to remind her it was graver than she was willing to admit. She would recover but the physician warned her it might give her problems again if she was not more careful. No more running across gardens in the dark, it seemed.
“You are lucky it is only a sprain.” He made a hiss of sound through his teeth. “It could have been much worse if you had caught the damned trespasser.”
“Thedarnedtrespasser had no desire to stop and injure me. I was not in danger.”
He gestured up and down her. “Your ankle says otherwise.”
“My ankle was the victim of a divot in your aunt’s unkempt lawn.”
The creases in his brow deepened. “I should have hired more men,” he muttered.
Clem almost felt sorry for him. He seemed more pained by her ankle than she was. There was something touching about his concern, despite it being wrapped in fury.
“I should have hired a whole army to deal with a Musgrave.”
She sucked in a breath. Perhaps she did not feel so sorry for him after all. “Or perhaps you should have taken your aunt seriously in the first place and it would never have escalated to this.”
His eyes flashed. “Does the mere fact I am here, with you, alone, despite what nearly happened the other day not indicate that I am taking this seriously indeed?”
Opening and closing her mouth, she flailed for a response. They hadn’t acknowledged—at least to each other—what their aunts had nearly caught them doing. It was another despite.
And it wasn’t enough.
When his gaze latched onto hers, all she could think of was rising onto her painful ankle, looping her arms around his neck, and finding out what it might have been like to feel his lips upon hers.
Despite his aunt being in the room next to hers, despite her not even liking the wretched man.
Apparently there were not enough despites in the world.
∞∞∞
Not really being the praying sort, it surprised Roman that one of his very few prayers was answered in the form of another Musgrave. Violet Musgrave, the eldest of the sisters, and a rather traditional beauty strode past him as though he did not exist, hastening right to her sister’s side.
“Oh Clem, what did you do now?”
His presence did not go unnoticed for long. Once she crouched by Clem, she twisted her attention onto him. “Whatever did you do to her?”
“I can hardly be blamed forthat, Lady Violet.”
He gestured to the swollen ankle and toes encased in a thin stocking. Feet had never really interested him. Until Clementine, it seemed. Not that he wanted to do anything ridiculous with them, but the strangest urge to rub them and soothe away any pain had struck the moment he’d entered the room.
Lady Violet rose, setting her shoulders into what seemed to be a practiced posture of the Musgrave ladies—chin lifted, gaze cool and direct, chin stubborn. Despite the difference in hair color and complexion, Roman spied the similarities between the sisters in their almond-shaped eyes and the squareness of their jaws. Were it not for the reputation of the Musgraves and their father’s bought title, these ladies would be sought after indeed.