Page 11 of A Relentless Rake
She set her teacup onto the tray. “Everyone in society is whispering about how you’ve been gambling, drinking all night, and having assignations with all kinds of widows and wives.”
“A man needs hobbies,” he replied, deadpan.
She shot him a chastising glare.
“I’m areformedrake, Mother,” he explained. “Isn’t that the type of man all women claim they love most?”
Her glare deepened.
Well, this conversation wasn’t going at all in his favor. Wanting to smooth her ruffled feathers, he admitted, “I don’t live like a monk, I’ll grant you, but I’m also not the scapegrace I was before I joined the army. Those days are over. Whatever rumors the gossipy old biddies are spreading about me aren’t true.”
“They don’t have to be true,” she reminded him. “They only have to be believed.”
Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t… He shook his head in exasperation. “I have never neglected my duties, neither in Parliament nor to the title nor my family, which you very well know. So does society. And unlike the old earl”—he still couldn’t bring himself to call the manFather—“I have never hurt anyone in seeking my pleasures.”
A pained expression darkened her face. “You’re hurtingyourself, Alexander. Don’t you see that? If a man doesn’t have his reputation, what does he have?”
He shrugged. “Five estates, two town houses, and one of the largest fortunes in the Bank of England?”
Her mouth tightened. She clearly didn’t find that amusing. “How does any of that keep you from being lonely?”
“You’d be surprised how helpful it is for making friends and finding bed partners.”
Pity clouded her eyes. “And how does it feel to know that they’re making love to your money and couldn’t care less about you?”
“Quite wonderful, actually.” But his hand shook as he set the tea down onto the tray and shoved himself to his feet.
He crossed to the cabinet in the corner and withdrew a crystal tumbler and decanter of brandy. Despite the early hour, he needed something far stronger than tea.
“Perhaps for now,” his mother continued. “But it wears, not knowing who you can trust or who truly cares about you, not knowing when you enter a room and find women gossiping in whispers behind their fans if they’re talking about you. A wife would put an end to that.”
“Your concern is misplaced.” So was her proposed solution.Marriage?He nearly laughed. “I am perfectly happy.”
“You’re lying.”
His hand froze as he pulled the crystal stopper from the decanter.
“Do you think your father did what he did because he washappy? I’ve never known a more miserable man in my life.” She added quietly, “Except for you.”
He curled an icy grin and finished pouring his drink. “Do you really think that leg-shackling myself to some society chit will make me happy?” Nearly every marriage among theton—including hers—said otherwise.
“If she’s the right chit, yes. There are many fine young misses out this season who would make good countesses.”
“Then let them marry other earls. I’m not interested in wedding anyone.” He replaced the stopper and sauntered back to his chair, flopped down, and took a gasping swallow. “I like my life exactly as it is. I harm no one with my activities, and I do no more gambling, drinking, and pursuing women than any other peer.” He stretched out his long legs in the most devil-may-care pose he could muster. “If gossipy old prigs are determined to discuss how I spend my time, that’s their—”
“You’re becoming like your father.”
The soft interruption came with the force of a blow. For a moment, he was too stunned to reply.
Finally, he found his voice and answered coldly, “I amnothinglike him.” His hand tightened around the glass. “I have no tolerance for people who hide behind lies and abuse.”
Or those who refuse to see them.
It was far too early in the day for this discussion. Hell,midnightwould have been far too early. Needing to quash his rising anger, he tossed back the rest of the brandy and welcomed the burn down his throat.
His mother remained silent and still for a long moment before answering quietly, “Perhaps not.” She dropped her gaze to her hands, folded in her lap. “But life is not as cleanly cut as you’d like it to be. Honorable people make mistakes, while villains are capable of goodness, and both deserve our understanding.”
Bitterness covered his tongue like acid. She meant her marriage.
