of other, less fortunate roués who have been grumbling about your extraordinary successes that have set Almack's to talking."
"I cannot control what others will say, nor can I let gossip rule my life. My God, I'd have to sit home with a prayer book if I did."
"Well if you won't consider marriage, then at least try to be less conspicuous about Haunting your mistresses, especially when they're Quality. Everyone knew about Lady Mariana, even when you threw her over. I must say, I did rather think she might manage to become your Marchioness. Had me worried, that. Never been one of my favorites, the Lady Mariana. Granted she's a beauty, but too damned uppity for my likes. Hear she's after higher stakes, now. The Duke of Linville. Won't be getting much in His Grace, I can tell you. Laughing Lin ain't got much to recommend him except his title and well-lined pockets. Never did meet a more obnoxious character; even if he is a Duke. Knew him as a boy, disliked him then, dislike him now. Got the damndest laugh I ever heard," Lord Denet said disgustedly. "You were too young of course, but—"
"Enough reminiscences, George, please," Lord Trevegne pleaded, holding up his hands placatingly. "I think I have made my .position on marriage quite clear, and to set your over-active imagination at rest, I will tell you that I never entertained the thought of marrying Lady Mariana, beautiful as she is, but then she didn't expect marriage either, I've never dallied with young innocents who would misunderstand my intentions—or lack of them, nor do I deceive any woman into thinking that I have intended more than just a casual liaison." Lord Trevegne's voice hardened as he continued coldly, "And only occasionally will some lady try to extend what had been an enjoyable affair into something more permanent. But it's never worked." The Marquis took a swallow of brandy, and glancing at the silent George added with cynical amusement, "I hope that allays any doubts you have harbored concerning my welfare, and by the way, I shall be leaving London shortly." He covered a yawn with his hand gracefully.
"Leaving London!” George exclaimed as if leaving London was something unheard of. "But, I don't understand? Leaving London?"
"Yes, leaving London. Please, George, you have us sounding like parrots," the Marquis laughed as George repeated his words once again. "I've business to attend to, and I'm anxious for a bit of hunting. Now satisfied? Let us drop the subject, because I've become exceedingly bored by it all. All these questions and answers—I shall have to take counsel under this catechism." Alex feigned another yawn, looking up at George, an innocent expression on his handsome face.
"By God! I do believe I'm boring you to sleep. You are a demon, Alex. Nothing seems to affect you except to bore you. If you are so bored, then why are you leaving town? There's plenty to do here to keep you busy. Your estate agent can handle all your business affairs, so surely there's no need to go gallivanting across the countryside, is there? Cursed uncomfortable if you ask me."
"You've answered that one yourself, George."
"Eh, what?" George bent a confused look upon the relaxed Marquis.
"Boredom, George." Alex returned his look with jaded golden eyes. "As plain and simple as that. I would rather be down by the sea, in the fresh air, doing some hunting, than closed up in balls and assemblies. It will serve as a trip with twofold purpose—relaxation and business, to be carried out at my leisure. And I can promise you that I've no seventh mistress tucked away on my estate, nor do I have designs on my estate manager's wife. However . . ." he added devilishly, "I might have a bride safely secured, eagerly awaiting my pleasure, in the master bedroom."
The Marquis laughed, and rising as if in preparation to retire, successfully ended the conversation. "Listen, George, come down to Westerly when you tire of London. You're' welcome any time."
“Well, thank
"I cannot control what others will say, nor can I let gossip rule my life. My God, I'd have to sit home with a prayer book if I did."
"Well if you won't consider marriage, then at least try to be less conspicuous about Haunting your mistresses, especially when they're Quality. Everyone knew about Lady Mariana, even when you threw her over. I must say, I did rather think she might manage to become your Marchioness. Had me worried, that. Never been one of my favorites, the Lady Mariana. Granted she's a beauty, but too damned uppity for my likes. Hear she's after higher stakes, now. The Duke of Linville. Won't be getting much in His Grace, I can tell you. Laughing Lin ain't got much to recommend him except his title and well-lined pockets. Never did meet a more obnoxious character; even if he is a Duke. Knew him as a boy, disliked him then, dislike him now. Got the damndest laugh I ever heard," Lord Denet said disgustedly. "You were too young of course, but—"
"Enough reminiscences, George, please," Lord Trevegne pleaded, holding up his hands placatingly. "I think I have made my .position on marriage quite clear, and to set your over-active imagination at rest, I will tell you that I never entertained the thought of marrying Lady Mariana, beautiful as she is, but then she didn't expect marriage either, I've never dallied with young innocents who would misunderstand my intentions—or lack of them, nor do I deceive any woman into thinking that I have intended more than just a casual liaison." Lord Trevegne's voice hardened as he continued coldly, "And only occasionally will some lady try to extend what had been an enjoyable affair into something more permanent. But it's never worked." The Marquis took a swallow of brandy, and glancing at the silent George added with cynical amusement, "I hope that allays any doubts you have harbored concerning my welfare, and by the way, I shall be leaving London shortly." He covered a yawn with his hand gracefully.
"Leaving London!” George exclaimed as if leaving London was something unheard of. "But, I don't understand? Leaving London?"
"Yes, leaving London. Please, George, you have us sounding like parrots," the Marquis laughed as George repeated his words once again. "I've business to attend to, and I'm anxious for a bit of hunting. Now satisfied? Let us drop the subject, because I've become exceedingly bored by it all. All these questions and answers—I shall have to take counsel under this catechism." Alex feigned another yawn, looking up at George, an innocent expression on his handsome face.
"By God! I do believe I'm boring you to sleep. You are a demon, Alex. Nothing seems to affect you except to bore you. If you are so bored, then why are you leaving town? There's plenty to do here to keep you busy. Your estate agent can handle all your business affairs, so surely there's no need to go gallivanting across the countryside, is there? Cursed uncomfortable if you ask me."
"You've answered that one yourself, George."
"Eh, what?" George bent a confused look upon the relaxed Marquis.
"Boredom, George." Alex returned his look with jaded golden eyes. "As plain and simple as that. I would rather be down by the sea, in the fresh air, doing some hunting, than closed up in balls and assemblies. It will serve as a trip with twofold purpose—relaxation and business, to be carried out at my leisure. And I can promise you that I've no seventh mistress tucked away on my estate, nor do I have designs on my estate manager's wife. However . . ." he added devilishly, "I might have a bride safely secured, eagerly awaiting my pleasure, in the master bedroom."
The Marquis laughed, and rising as if in preparation to retire, successfully ended the conversation. "Listen, George, come down to Westerly when you tire of London. You're' welcome any time."
“Well, thank
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