“A long time ago,” he said through clenched teeth.
Clementine laughed at something Watson said and it was a miracle all Roman’s teeth did not shatter. He forced himself to unclench his jaw and look away from the apparently enjoyable conversation.
“I think it was about five years ago,” his aunt mused. “Not that long. I imagine it was the multitude of scandals that frightened him off. She needs a man of a strong constitution.” Aunt Mary titled her head and eyed them. “However, they do look rather sweet together, do you not think?”
“No.” He didn’t manage to prevent himself uttering the word with bitterness in his tone. “No, I do not.”
He didn’t miss his aunt’s responding chuckle.
Chapter Twenty
“You’re here.”
Roman’s presence sent a shiver through Clem from head to toe. Every part of her came alive at the sound of his voice. Her heart stretched as though trying to reach for him. She swallowed and turned around.
“Yes.”
His eyes were dark, searching. A furrow lingered between his brows as though the sight of her pained him. Perhaps it did. The way her heart thudded was nothing short of agonizing. She hadn’t seen him for days again and those days had been filled with nothing, it seemed, but thoughts of him. It did not matter how hard Clem fought it or told herself it was nonsense, she missed the bloody—no, blasted—man. Was there a chance he felt the same?
She hadn’t come to Duke’s office on purpose to find him, hadn’t even had a hope of seeing him since they’d been trying to avoid each other but now he was here, she could only feel gratitude.
When she didn’t reply, he took a step around the desk toward her. She backed up, her rear connecting with the windowsill that looked out onto an empty alleyway. Fingers curled around the edge of the sill, she lifted her chin to meet his gaze and swallowed. He had to be feeling the same. He just had to be.
“You...” She swallowed again. “You are looking for Sir Marmaduke?”
He nodded.
“He isn’t here.”
Roman looked around the empty office. “I can see that.”
She inhaled deeply and held the breath. That way she would not be inclined to ask questions likehave you seen Miss Fisher? Orwhat have you been doing?Why are you here?Orhave you missed me as much as I missed you?Clem had no idea how it was possible for her to miss his dark, brooding presence, yet there was something about him that soothed her soul like a balm to the chaos in her life. Whenever she was frustrated or scattered, he would be there.
Except he had not been, and he had likely been with Miss Fisher.
She tightened her grip on the windowsill.
“I saw you with Archie Watson.”
Her heart gave a jolt. She understood the furrows now. The man was jealous. Well, good. Because now he understood how she felt. It was not logical, and it certainly was not sensible, but then when had a Musgrave ever been the sensible sort?
“He is an old friend,” she said, her voice weakening when he took a step closer.
“More than that.”
“Well, yes, but that was a long time ago.”
“I did not like seeing you with him, Musgrave,” he admitted, removing his hat and setting it upon Duke’s desk. He shoved a hand through his hair, making his neat locks ruffled.
Her fingers trembled from the tight grip she had on the windowsill. “You have no claim over me, Roman. You are planning to wed Miss Fisher.”
“I—” He glanced at the rug underfoot. “I am having second thoughts about that.”
“I know of Miss Fisher. She is apparently lovely.”
“I’m sure.”
He moved again. She dropped back slightly onto the windowsill, giving him a greater height advantage. She simultaneously regretted and welcomed it. His strength, his height, the way he could always be relied on to be a voice of reason, to support her in whatever silly endeavors she pursued... She’d missed him more than she realized.