Her mouth grew dry. If she admitted what had happened aloud there would be no taking it back, no pretending it did not take place. However, her attempts at pretending as much had failed entirely, even to the extent of keeping her awake more than her aching ankle for the past week. Even now her ankle stopped throbbing, she struggled to sleep.
All thanks to Roman and his divine blasted kisses.
“Now you really have me curious, Clem.” Her sister examined her with wide eyes. “You are the color of claret!”
“Why thank you.” Clem puffed out her cheeks and peered past her sister out of the window at the passing carriages and people. Anything to cease thinking of Roman and his mouth upon hers for just one moment. After all, she could hardly confess if she was about to implode.
“Clem...” Violet pressed.
“I kissed Roman,” she blurted.
Violet peered at her for a few moments, frozen. Clem resisted the urge to return the favor and prod her sister in the face several times. She did not much blame her for looking so shocked. Clem rarely expressed interest in the opposite sex and of all the people to kiss, Roman should be at the bottom of the list.
“Well, he kissed me,” she mumbled when her sister failed to say anything. “At least...maybe we kissed each other?”
Violet tightened her grip on Clem’s arm and tugged her as close to the wall as humanly possible. “You kissed Lord Rochdale.” She released Clem’s arm to gesture at her. “TheLord Rochdale.”
Clem looked to the ceiling. “Yes, that Lord Rochdale. The one and only.”
“The Lord Rochdale whom we all loathe?”
“Is there any other?”
“Bloody hell, Clem.”
“Do not curse,” Clem scolded. “And do not sound so shocked. He’s an attractive man with a fine figure and—”
“And you kissed him.”
“Or he kissed me,” Clem pointed out. “It’s still a little unclear to me.”
Violet took both of her arms into a tight grip, moving directly in front of her. “Are you certain you did not hit your head when you injured your ankle? Is this some strange sort of crisis? Do I need to put you in an asylum?” She released Clem to tap a palm to her forehead. “Do not tell me kissing inappropriate men has become your new hobby?”
“No, of course not!” Clem scowled. “Why is he inappropriate anyway?”
“You are a maiden, Clem. Every man is inappropriate unless he is your betrothed.”
“Well, yes...”
“And he is Lord Rochdale. Do you not recall that he got our brother inordinately drunk at a very young age and encouraged him to strip and—”
“Yes, yes. Though I am convinced there is more to that story now.”
Her sister shook her head. “Maybe Ishouldput you in an asylum.”
She shrugged. “All I am saying is I know him better now and he does not seem the sort—”
“That man?” Violet interrupted, pointing toward the entrance to the Pump Room. “You kissed that man?”
Clem could scarcely hold back the sigh that emerged from her when she spotted him enter with his friend Duke at his side. Though not crowded, enough sets of eyes swiveled his way and who could blame them? He exuded such raw masculine strength Clem was not sure her weak ankle would continue to hold her. Perhaps Violet should commit her to an asylum. Since when had she found herself weakened by something so silly as raw masculine strength?
“Yes,” she said through a dry throat. “I kissed that man.”
∞∞∞
Considering Roman had successfully avoided Clementine for the entire week, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see her at the Pump Room. He supposed he should not have been surprised at the feeling of relief that she was standing quite comfortably on her injured ankle either. When it came to Clementine, nothing could surprise him anymore. The men here could suddenly be wearing frocks and women wearing breeches and he’d scarcely blink.
He glanced over at her and grimaced to himself.