“We were indeed,” she agreed.
She took in the still boyish smile and the long length of a man she once thought might be by her side forever, and struggled to remember what a younger Clem had been thinking. They were excellent friends and Archie was a respectful man with gentle manners and fair looks. But there had been no passion between them, no itching desire to spend every second in his arms.
Clem sighed inwardly. She only knew they would make a dull match now because of her time with Roman. Blasted man. Had he ruined her forever?
∞∞∞
Aunt Mary waved Roman in, her bony hand flapping vigorously. “Most of the dogs are having a bath but Clementine has taken Snowy,” she assured him.
Roman exhaled slowly. He pitied the gardener who should really be employed as head dog-wrangler but the slight tingle in his nose didn’t turn into a sneezing attack thanks to the man’s diligent efforts at looking after the animals. He wasn’t certain if the relief was from no dogs or no Clementine, however. Both created exceedingly uncomfortable sensations in him.
“I wanted to check how you were, Aunt.” He offered his cheek for the usual kiss, and she led the way through the house, her cane clacking on the wooden floor. He clasped his hands behind his back and kept his pace measured. “Any more sightings?”
She shook her head as they made their way down the long corridor toward her favorite drawing room. The rain from earlier that day was long gone but evidence of it lingered upon the windows, sparkling in the strong sunlight.
“That man of yours, Mr. Tolly, seems to do a fine job of keeping people away.” His aunt peered over her shoulder at him. “Rather a brutish sort of a man but remarkably polite.”
“I wanted a brutish sort of a man. It’s important you remain safe.”
“With any luck, Clementine shall find this letter and it shall all be resolved.” She paused at a painting of her husband upon a horse. “I suspect Albert stowed it somewhere safe but who knows where that could be?” She glanced up at Roman as he came to her side. “He had the same fears as you. Thought it might be used against us.”
“It could well be.”
“Of course, we are making the assumption that is what the intruder wanted.” She shrugged, making the lace shawl upon her shoulders slip. “And really, what does it matter if the past is brought to light again? We have done nothing wrong.”
Roman tensed his jaw. “It was a great scandal, Aunt Mary.”
“And it was hundreds of years ago! I am most certain we can weather such a matter with ease, most especially with you at the helm of our small family.”
Roman adjusted her shawl, putting it back around her shoulders. He didn’t intend to argue with his aunt, and he couldn’t imagine he would win anyway. Aunt Mary was the kindest woman he knew and found it difficult to imagine anyone might have bad intentions toward her or her family. She had already suffered at the hands of his stepcousins—he did not want her suffering censure from Society, too.
She placed a cool hand over his before he could move away. “You feel the responsibility gravely, but you need not worry. I have not lived this long to go down because of a mere letter, and you did not overcome your reading troubles for an ancient scandal to drag you down.”
“I never overcame them, Aunt Mary,” he reminded her tightly.
“Nonsense.” She rapped her cane sharply upon the floor and turned to face him fully. “You graduated from Eton. You aided your father when his health declined. You run entire estates and businesses.”
“And I avoid reading and writing. And Duke helped me with my education.”
“Marmaduke is an intelligent man, but he is incapable of putting such knowledge in your mind.” His aunt reached up and tapped the side of his head. “You have put everything you fought to learn in place and thrived, Roman. No one can take that from you.”
He eyed his aunt for a few moments. Losing his mother when he was but a baby had left him with no other woman in his life apart from his aunt. With no children of her own, he supposed she adopted a role as mother for him in many ways. As eccentric as she was, he was always grateful for the soft influence she had on his life, offering respite from the hard discipline his father and tutors offered.
“You are the best aunt a man could ask for,” he said with a soft smile. “But you are not always right.” He looked toward the window when he spotted movement but whatever he’d seen out of the corner of his eye had gone. “This letter needs to be found and kept out of the hands of anyone who might do us harm.” He looked back to his aunt. “Are you certain no one else knows of it?”
“Oh no. Albert was most emphatic it should be hidden away.” She flashed a smile. “I wanted it framed.”
“I want it burned.”
“Well, Clementine shall find it, I have no doubt.” Aunt Mary waved her cane at the window. “She has been searching all day. I forced her to take some air. She looks a little pale, do you not think?”
Roman snapped his attention to the window. From this distance she looked as lovely as ever, the sunshine gleaming off coppery curls that danced in the breeze. The ribbons from her bonnet streamed around her neck and his fingers twitched with the need to unfurl the ribbons, fling the bonnet aside, and thrust his hand into said curls. From there, he would—
“Oh, who is that with her?”
A chill flowed rapidly through him, putting an end to any inappropriate images. He tensed and moved closer to the window to eye the man. “Archie Watson,” he muttered.
“Ah.” Aunt Mary peered past him. “I wonder why he has come to Bath. Were they not engaged to be wed once?”