“As if you could waste away, Sir Marmaduke,” Lady Violet said. Her eyes widened. “Not that you are a large man, of course. Goodness no. You are simply so strong.”
“My lady, from you I would accept almost any word as a compliment, even if you were to call me the most obese man in all of England.”
Roman caught Clementine’s gaze and rolled his eyes. Clementine’s lips curved.
“As charming as you are, Sir Marmaduke, I do not usually make a habit of insulting a man’s appearance. I hope you do not think it a common occurrence.”
Duke’s grin widened. Roman bit back a groan. Did the man have to flirt with every woman in Bath? It was a minor miracle he had not turned his attentions to Clementine, but Roman wagered it was only a matter of time.
At which point Roman would have to either leave the room or think very carefully about not trying to throttle his friend and the best lawyer he knew.
Chapter Eighteen
If Clem had any doubts about her Aunt Sarah’s intentions, they were erased when she found herself seated next to Roman after her aunt made several flapping motions and insisted everyone move seats.
For whatever reason, her aunt was trying to make a match between her and Roman.
The trouble was, her aunt wasn’t necessarily wrong. At least in terms of recognizing an attraction between them. However, if Aunt Sarah thought they would make any sort of a good match, she was entirely wrong there. They could not be any more different and she saw how his shoulders tightened at the idea of dining with her and her family. He might as well have scrawled it in ink across his forehead—I do not wish to spend time with the scandalous Musgraves.
The high-ceilinged room bustled with diners. Tables were spread from one side of the airy room to the next and Clem only spotted two empty ones. They’d been lucky—or perhaps unlucky—to find an empty one large enough for them all.
Roman inched onto his seat as though if he went slowly enough, the situation might change.
Well, she did not want to spend time with Roman either. If Violet reacted the way she had, just imagine how everyone else would respond. Would her mother be shocked? She glanced at Mama who talked animatedly to Sir Marmaduke. Perhaps not.
Mama always implied there had been a few kisses in her past. How else would she know that Papa was the right man for her, she used to say. Papa might not be as involved in his daughters’ lives, but he was as protective as the next father. He would be appalled, maybe even angry. It may go further than a mere marriage of convenience. He might even call Roman out.
Clem bunched a napkin in her hand before spreading it over her lap. She and Roman had avoided each other admirably this week. There was no need for there to be a repeat of the kiss, and short of throwing her across the table and ravishing her in the dining room, they would not even have a chance to do so.
A shiver rippled through her. Being ravished by Roman was something of which many a woman would dream. Not least her, unfortunately.
The two aunts chatted amongst themselves whilst drinks were served at the table. Clem caught a few glances their way from some of the Bath matriarchs. They were, perhaps, an interesting group—a Countess, two of her daughters, the sister of a duke, a renowned rake and, of course, Roman. Plenty of people would be listening carefully to anything said at the table to glean the slightest bit of gossip.
“Tell me, Lord Rochdale,” her sister fixed Roman with a bold stare, “has my sister been of aid to you in this letter hunting business?”
It seemed her sister hadn’t noticed the interest in them one jot. Roman stiffened beside Clem. Given how private he was, Clem knew he would not enjoy talking of the matter in a public dining room.
“In a manner of speaking,” he said tightly.
“In a manner of speaking?” Violet’s brows arched.
“Well, the letter is yet to be discovered.”
Violet took a sip of lemonade. “And what exactly is in this letter that is so important?”
He swung a surprised glance at Clem. She lifted her chin. A Musgrave she might be, but even she knew how to be discrete. None of her family knew of the supposed contents to this letter.
“Family business,” he replied curtly.
“If you are to have your secrets, Lord Rochdale, perhaps you can ensure my sister does not get harmed in order to protect them in future.”
“Violet!” Mama exclaimed, “Lord Rochdale can hardly be blamed for your sister’s impetuous nature.” Her mother smiled gently. “If anyone is to blame, it is me. I encourage my daughters to follow their passions.”
“Rightly so,” Aunt Sarah declared, lifting a glass in salute. “For what is life without passion?”
“I could not agree more,” Sir Marmaduke said with a nod of his head. He lifted his glass. “To passion?”
“Hardly an appropriate toast,” Roman grumbled.