Page 72 of The Trouble with True Love

“Oh, I used to be,” he went on. “Don’t misunderstand me. I was once one of the most notorious men about town, and my reputation was well-earned. Drink, cards, low company, women... especially women. God,” he added, laughing in disbelief at how much his life had changed, “so many women. I chased skirts from the West End to the East and back again. Actresses, Gaiety Girls, mistresses, courtesans—any woman who didn’t expect marriage and wasn’t already taken was fair game to me.”

“You speak as if all that’s in the past.”

He gave a nostalgic sigh. “Well, let’s just say my wild ways have been temporarily suspended.”

“Oh, I see.” Her brow cleared and she gave a nod. “Women, you said once, are deuced expensive. And now that your father and your aunt have both cut you off, you can no longer afford such things.”

“Well, that’s true, yes, but I’m afraid this sad state of affairs came to pass two years ago, long before my father stopped my allowance.”

“Years? The gossip columns say otherwise. They... h... have you with some new...” She paused and looked away. “You seem to... have a new m... mistress every other month.”

“I know, but that’s all a hum, Clara. The women, the cards, the drink...” He paused, waving a hand vaguely in the air. “All that’s just a charade nowadays. A charade I created over two years ago, and one I maintained up until the night we made our arrangement at Covent Garden.”

“But why would you do such a thing? For what purpose?”

He shrugged. “I had to find some way to explain why I’m always short of funds.”

“And why are you?”

He took a deep breath. “I give my mother money. Everyone believes I still spend whatever I get on rakish pursuits, but as I said, that’s tosh. Whatever I don’t spend on my own household has been going to my mother for quite some time. I’d ask you to keep this knowledge to yourself, for if my father found out, I’d never get my allowance back.”

“Of course, I won’t tell anyone, but why should your father care?”

“In the separation agreement, he stipulated an allowance for my mother. It’s enough to live on, but only just. Mama can’t afford a household, so she’s drifted all over the Continent, from friend to hotel to friend to hotel, but after a decade of this, she has pretty much used up all her friends’ goodwill, and hotels have stopped allowing her accommodation, for though she’s a countess, she’s a disgraced one, and she always ducks her bills. She tried to bolster her income with gambling, but of course, that didn’t work. She only got into more debt. Debt that my father, understandably, refused to pay.”

“So, she began applying to you for money, and you give it to her?”

“Yes. That’s the reason my father cut me off. I don’t know quite how, but he discovered what I was really doing with my income. Detectives, I’d guess. He’s employed enough of them to trail my mother in the past, God knows. He probably has a firm of those good gentlemen on permanent retainer.”

“But keeping you continually short of funds only hurts him. If he wants you to marry—”

“Even the ambition to see the estates secured to his own bloodline is not stronger than his need to try to control my mother. He can’t accept that he never could do that and he never will. And he can’t bear to think my allowance from the estate might be circumventing his control over her.”

“He hates her that much?”

“He hates her as much as he loves her.” Rex laughed, and even to his own ears, it had a bitter tinge. “I think if she ever expressed the desire to come back to him, he’d let her. But, of course, he’d also make her pay for it. Love, Clara, can be a terrible thing. Which is why I’ve so little use for it.”

“I do see your point of view a little better now, I suppose. But, still, as terrible as it can be, love can also be beautiful, surely? If it’s true?”

“Perhaps—that is, if true love exists at all, which my cynical heart is inclined to doubt. I think romantic love is a bit like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.”

“A mirage, you mean?”

“Yes. Sorry if that disappoints you.” He tilted his head, giving her a curious look. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I do it?”

“Why you give your mother money? It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Is it? The family—both sides, mind you—think I ought to have told her to go to the devil. And that I was a fool for risking my father’s wrath for her.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool. You obviously love your mother.”

He smiled, raising his glass. “That’s what makes me a fool.”

She shook her head. “No, Rex, it doesn’t. You are trying to help her as best you can. It’s...” She paused, looking at him thoughtfully. “It’s quite noble of you.”

He choked on his champagne. “Noble?”

“Yes.” She frowned as he laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

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