Roman tried not to think how he’d feel about Clementine if she were more appropriate. Would that near kiss have turned into an actual one? He had an unsteady feeling in his stomach like when he’d sailed to battle during the war that told him if she’d been more appropriate, he wouldn’t have even debated the kiss.
Which meant what?
He didn’t like the woman, surely? It was nothing more than a fleeting attraction. It simply had to be. After all, he was going to be engaged soon if he ever got a chance at a proper meeting with Miss Fisher’s father. Nowtherewas an appropriate woman.
Who he did not feel like kissing one bit.
It didn’t matter, though. Wives were not for kissing. They were for mothering children and running estates and being everything a well-bred young lady should be.
Lady Violet shoved a finger in his face, drawing his attention sharply from Clementine. “You should not have allowed my sister to even stay here, let alone become involved in this.”
He peered at the end of the ink-stained fingertip. “How exactly do you suggest I could have done that? This is my aunt’s house.”
“Are you not the head of the family?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He tightened his jaw.
With no siblings to look after and no one else apart from distant cousins, his aunt was his only close living relative; that title, that statement—it weighed more heavily upon him than the title of marquis. Nothing was more important than being the head of this family, of being the one to carry on the name.
Most importantly thegoodname. He glanced at Clementine who watched the exchange with a bemused expression, her chin resting upon a hand.
“You do know your sister, though, my lady, and I should imagine you understand it is difficult to persuade her to do anything she does not wish to do, and despite what you may think of me I am not the sort of man to go around stomping my feet and making demands of my aunt.”
“Think of you—” Violet paused, and her chest rose with an inhale. “I do not think anything of you, my lord, apart from the fact you were reckless to get my sister involved in such a situation just as you were with my brother—”
“I was not involved with that,” he insisted, even while he knew arguing was pointless.
“I want my sister home.”
“I agree.”
Lady Violet paused, her dark lashes fluttering rapidly. “You do?”
“Yes. She cannot be trusted to keep herself safe.”
“Precisely.”
Clementine waved from behind her sister. “I am here, you know.”
Her sister turned to face her. “Yes and look what has happened. Aunt Sarah told me you chased an intruder! Outside! Improperly dressed! In the dark! What if he had harmed you in some way?”
“That’s what I said.”
Lady Violet gave him another surprised look before rounding on her sister again. “You should come home.”
“Has Mama demanded it?” Clementine appeared mildly bored, as though used to such demands from her sister.
“You know she has not.”
“Well, then I am staying. Besides—” she gestured to her ankle “—I am in no fit state to go anywhere. Unless you wish to carry me, Vi?”
Her sister rubbed her temples with her forefingers and Roman suffered a pang of sympathy. Clementine had already been the source of too many of his own headaches.
“A footman can carry you to the carriage. You are hardly incapacitated.”
Clementine pursed her lips. “The physician said I should not be moved. I could cause further injury.” She widened her eyes, adopting a look that might have worked on Roman but surely would not work on her sister?
A hefty sigh came from Lady Violet. “If Basil were here, I’d send him to remove you.”