“I can see that.” Duke offered a quick greeting to the other ladies. “But where was my invitation?”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Since when does the great Sir Marmaduke Cameron need an invitation?”
Roman ignored the rest of their conversation. He didn’t understand quite what Duke and Violet’s relationship was but considering his friend had just been scolding him for kissing an innocent woman, he had to conclude Duke’s intentions were nothing other than friendship. Regardless, the two seemed to enjoy shooting words at each other like two opposing armies firing cannon shots.
“Won’t you sit down?” Mrs. Knighton asked, patting the blanket beside her.
A swell of laughter from a group of women snared his attention and he peered in their direction, spying Ivy amongst the crowd. Thoughamongstwas perhaps putting it generously. In both hands she cradled a bowling ball, and it seemed the ladies were blocking her path to the bowling green.
Mrs. Knighton clambered to her feet with a groan. “All Ivy wanted to do was bowl. I knew those women would be cruel to her the moment I spotted them.”
Violet waved a hand at her aunt. “Let me go.”
It was nothing to do with Roman, really. He barely even knew Ivy Musgrave. But all he could think about was how angry Clementine would be that her sister was being treated in such a way. And how furious she would be with him for not doing anything.
“I think I fancy a game of bowls myself,” he told the group and strode over before anyone could argue with him.
Ivy’s eyes widened when he stopped in front of her and took the bowl from her. “I had hoped to join you for a game, my lady.” He gestured to the bowling green. “Shall we?”
Ivy eyed him for a few moments, her mouth working, then lifted her chin and glanced coolly at the women who gawped at him. They might be willing to be catty toward a Musgrave but even they would not be rude to an unmarried marquis.
She dipped briefly. “That sounds lovely, Lord Rochdale.”
The women parted to allow them both passage toward the green. He used his bestI am a powerful lord so do not triflewith me expression to send them skittering in several directions.
Ivy peered up at him. “Now I know why my sister likes you so much,” she whispered. “She’s been trying to persuade us all we were wrong about you.”
“Not entirely wrong,” he said.
“Well, people can change.” She set the bowl firmly in his hand and went off to retrieve another.
They could, and he had to an extent, thanks to Clementine and her family. But was it enough?
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took a moment for Clementine to fathom what the bellowing was about. She ignored it the first few times, remaining sprawled upon the bed, her legs stretched out in front of her and her feet bare. Bath might not be as noisy as London, but it had its fair share of troubled people, shouting at all times of the day. To hear someone shouting at—what—two o’clock in the afternoon did not especially surprise her given the house’s proximity to the busy street.
When she heard feet thundering down the corridor, however, she glanced up from the letter. She still had not fathomed what to do with it, despite staring at it for a good hour since her return to Mary’s house. It was too old, too important to be destroyed.
But it was what Roman would want.
Her heart hurt at the thought of everything these lovers had gone through. Could she really allow their memory to be turned to ashes?
The shout came again, and she heard it more clearly.
Fire.
She rose swiftly to her feet at the sound of more footsteps and pressed the letter to her chest. When she inhaled deeply, she smelled the faintest hint of smoke, but a glance outside did not reveal anything. She should go and investigate.
Easing the letter into the concealed pocket of her skirt, she flung open the door and hastened down the hallway. No smoke poured into the building and she heard no crackle of flames or any such warnings, though the shouts from outside continued.
By the time she reached where the commotion was coming from, flames were licking across the top of the stables. The few servants Mary had were tackling the blaze with buckets of sand and water while the stable hand ushered the two horses to safety. She stopped the boy, ignoring his surprised glance at her bare feet.
“Is that all of the horses?” she asked him.
“Yes, my lady.”
She looked to the stable block. There were only a few men and one maid fighting the blaze. They needed more people, or it might get out of control and spread to the house. “Have you seen Mary?” she asked the boy. “Does she know what is happening?”