Clementine stiffened in his arms, and he opened his eyes to watch the pleasure flitter across her tightly scrunched shut eyes. With parted lips, she shuddered and relaxed in his hold. Every fiber of his body screamed for release but that could wait. He needed to savor this moment. Savor her.
A whistle from the entrance room shattered the moment. They both froze as the whistling continued. He needed to step away from her embrace and untangle her legs from his hips, but he could not bring himself to. Once he moved away from her, it was truly over.
“It’s Duke’s secretary, I think,” he said quietly.
Her eyes were wide. “Will he come in here?”
“Perhaps.”
Her throat bobbed. “You should let me go then.”
“So should you.”
She flexed her fingers upon his arms. “I do not want to.”
“Neither do I.”
“But we’re no good for each other.” She shook her head, her eyes glistening. “You do not even like me.”
“That’s not true. But you do not like me. You blame me for your brother’s troubles, remember?”
She glanced at where his fingers remained bunched into the fabric of her skirt. “I’m having doubts about that.”
“About damned time,” he said with a slight smile. “Though I will admit, I was there, and I should have realized he could not hold his drink at such a young age. There were other men urging him on and I was unwilling to step in and draw attention. It was my fault to an extent.”
The cheerful whistling continued and Roman heard a door shut. He eased out a breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “Now I really do not have to let you go.”
“There’s Miss Fisher,” she reminded him, moving her hands up his arms to cup his face. “She’s perfect for you.”
He wanted to close his eyes and lean into the touch, but he’d probably be lost again so it was too risky. This woman made him both strong and weak, forcing him into situations he’d never be in without her, simply because he was fairly certain he’d walk into hell for her.
“Is she though?”
“And I cannot be married,” she continued. “I cannot stick to one thing for a month. How can I be married for a lifetime?” She shook her head vigorously. “I cannot give you what you want, Roman.”
A weight he’d been carrying since his childhood settled back across his shoulders. “What do we do then?”
She lifted her shoulders and swiped her eyes with the back of a hand. “I don’t know, Roman. I really don’t.”
The front door shutting and the sound of Duke talking to his secretary put paid to any clever ideas. Not that he really had any. Everything she said was right. Could he shake off decades of trying to do the correct thing? He wasn’t certain. Nor did he know if he could conquer her doubts.
He aided her off the desk, swiftly tucked in a curl and aided her with her skirts then took several large steps back and clasped his hands behind his back as though nothing had happened.
Which was precisely how he would have to act from now on. Somehow.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Remind me again why you drew me away from a perfectly good game of shuttlecock with Miss Sullivan for this?” Lily gestured toward the small cottage at the end of the long lane.
Realizing the conditions of the roads, Clem and her sister had been forced to abandon the barouche some two miles back and head on foot toward the house.
“Because you are my only sister who does not mind getting messy.” Clem stopped to peer at the cottage ahead then glanced at the address she had scrawled upon a piece of paper in Sir Marmaduke Cameron’s scratchy handwriting. “And by the looks of it, we are going to get messy searching that house.”
“I do not see why Lord Rochdale cannot continue the search.” Lily lifted the hem of her skirt to kick a stone along the rutted road. It bounced some distance before springing off a mound of dried mud and darting into the hedgerow. “This is his letter after all.”
“Because...” Clem sighed. “Well, because I want to find the letter first.” And because she hadn’t been brave enough to speak to him since their...liaison in Duke’s office.
“What does this fabled letter contain anyway?” Her sister found another stone to kick, sending it hurtling so far it hit the rickety fence lining the perimeter of the cottage.