“He was a fool,” Roman said through clenched teeth, unable to look Clementine in the eyes.
He knew what she was arguing for, but he wasn’t the same as that reckless man, though his blood flowed in his veins. He might not be clever, but he could not be as reckless as Thomas had been—he couldn’t throw away everything for the woman he loved.
“It seems to me the only thing he did wrong was love someone.” Rising, she pressed her hands down her dress in an attempt to smooth out the creases.
The ties were still loose, and he should aid her with them, but he feared touching her. If he did, he might weaken and agree to whatever the hell she asked of him. He hadn’t been in his right mind since the day they’d met here and if this letter had done anything, it was to remind him why he’d been battling to resist her for so long.
“He loved someone he should not.”
Her throat bobbed as she met his gaze. “I—”
“I need to go.” Roman looked away. “This was a mistake.” He paused, inhaled deeply, and offered out a hand. He could not claim to be any form of a gentleman at this point, but he couldn’t leave her fighting to tie her own gown.
She glanced at his hand and shook her head, her chin set firm. “I'm fine without you.”
He nodded, swallowing past the tangle in his throat. Yes, yes she was. And he would be fine without her too soon enough.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Clem lifted the lid of the Sèvres vase and peered into the shadowy interior. She huffed out a breath upon finding it empty and set the lid back in place, rubbing a finger briefly over the faded gilding, much as many a Musgrave girl had done over the years.
“It’s been a long time since we hid sweetmeats in there,” Violet's voice reminded her.
“Violet!” She pressed a hand to her violently hammering heart and eyeballed her sister who peered at her over the rear of the tall backed sofa. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to hear your mopey footsteps.”
“Can footstepsbemopey?”
“The way yours are, yes indeed.” She patted the sofa next to her. “You only want sweetmeats when something is gravely wrong. What happened?”
Clem hesitated. Violet was the only one who knew she and Roman had kissed, and frankly, had seemed slightly less perturbed than Clem expected, but that was slightly different to what they had engaged in last week. That was also before they knew he was angling for an engagement with lovely Miss Fisher. How would her sister feel if she knew Clem had given him her bodyandher heart?
How would she feel to know he had rejected her?
Clem frowned. Or had she rejected him? It was hard to tell now. Either way, the fury she’d felt abated several days ago, leaving her feeling little more than a dried-out husk of nothingness. Each minute, each second seemed to tick by with agonizing slowness and even the thought of a new hobby could not inspire her. How horribly depressing it was to feel like some lovelorn fool every hour of the day.
As far as she could tell, the only fix would be to rush back into his arms but after all the words they had flung at each other, it was impossible. For all she knew, he’d gone to Miss Fisher and proposed the instant he realized Clem would make a terrible wife.
“Clem,” her sister persisted.
Sighing, Clem sloped her way over and flung herself down upon the sofa, sprawling with her legs over the wooden arm and her head into Violet’s lap. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply while her sister ran a hand over her hair. The aching thud of her heart slowed a little and she opened her eyes to peer up at Violet’s concerned expression.
“The last time I saw you this despondent it was when you discovered the fairy leaving gifts at the bottom of the garden was Mama all along.”
“That broke my heart,” Clem agreed.
“Is your heart broken now?”
“Just a little dented,” she said through a husky throat.
“In truth?”
“Perhaps a little more than dented,” Clem admitted.
Violet continued to stroke her hair for several minutes. Clem’s breathing slowed as she laced her fingers across her stomach and stared at the ceiling rose circling the chandelier above.
She could always rely on her oldest sister to provide a calming, steady retreat from the world. Their mother was wonderful and responsible for creating some of the most amazing memories, even including the pretend fairy, but her chaotic personality did not always offer the quiet that each of the Musgraves needed occasionally.