“A gentleman,” he corrected.
“—but I do not see one standing before me.”
Now why did he have a sudden urge to show her exactly how manly he could be?
“Now, children.” His aunt rose slowly, and he took a slight step back but not until Lady Clementine had done the same. “I appreciate that you both have differing opinions on this, and I know you worry for me, Roman, but I am certain you can come to an agreement on this. After all, you are both nobility. Let us act as such.”
Lady Clementine drew her bottom lip under even teeth. He’d never really looked at her properly before. Her lips were attractive and narrow but wide, and he wagered her smile might be dazzling.
Not that he’d ever seen it before. As far as she was concerned, she had no reason to smile at him and he had no reason to wish for a smile from her. Why would he? She was a freckled, not far off spinsterly, entirely inappropriate woman. Yes, she might be the daughter of an earl with a healthy dowry to boot, but his marchioness would be the very image of perfection with not even a hint of scandal.
Ensuring his family’s name remained untarnished was all that mattered.
Miss Fisher would ensure that. She’d sire his sons, be a dutiful wife, and run his household with efficiency and discretion.
Just as soon as he had dealt with Lady Clementine and this nonsense, that was.
“What exactly do you propose to do, my lady?” he demanded. “Do you have skills with the occult?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “But I have many other skills and I am quite certain I can help your aunt.”
He swung his gaze between Lady Clementine and his aunt. Neither woman showed any weakness in their stances.
He was definitely losing his touch.
“A week,” he said finally.
Lady Clementine’s brows lifted. “A week?”
“To do whatever it is you wish to do.” Roman waved a hand. “Investigate this sighting, put my aunt’s mind at rest. Then you are to leave the matter be.”
“I’m not certain I intend to negotiate. Your aunt needs my help.” She gestured to Aunt Mary. “I wish to give it.”
“A week or else I shall haunt your every step, Lady Clementine.” He leaned in. “I do not think either of us wants that.”
“It’s Clem, and—”
Scrabbling at the door prevented his next response, likely a fine thing as his attention had dropped to those lips again for some strange reason. Aunt Mary hastened to the door. “I need to let them in, they miss me.”
A flurry of dogs entered the room and he grimaced as they brushed past his trousers, no doubt leaving their marks upon him, and scrabbled to lick and leap all over his aunt.
“Let me guess,” Lady Clementine said, arms folded, “you do not like dogs.”
“I like them just fine,” he said tightly. The tingle started in the back of his nose again.
She tilted toward him. “You might want to tell your face that then.”
“My face—” He bit back a sound of annoyance. The woman was so brazen, so outspoken, so…inappropriate. He couldn’t have her riling his aunt further.
“One week,” he reminded her. “Or you will not be rid of me.”
“Fine.” Lady Clementine gave a sharp nod. “One week. But stay out of my way.”
There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to put as much distance between them as possible; however, he did not trust the woman one jot. No matter what their agreement was, he was going to keep a close eye on her.
Chapter Three
“Ido not like it.”