A Tale of Two Lovers Read Free Page B

situation?” Brandon asked.
    “No one can possibly believe that story—not when dozens, hundreds, thousands of women could come forward and vouch for me,” Roxbury pointed out.  Perhaps not thousands but many, many women had firsthand knowledge of his abiding love and devotion to women and the female form.
    “I hate to say it, Roxbury, but most of those women are married, and I daresay not one would risk her reputation to vouch for you.”
    Brandon was a stickler for facts, truths, honesty, and all those things. The burning feeling of rage, remorse, and panic in Simon’s gut intensified.
    “They weren’t all married,” he pointed out.
    “Your reputation in the ton is not going to be saved by the word of women of negotiable affection,” Brandon correctly and lamentably stated. Roxbury scowled because his friend was right—the word of an actress, or an opera singer or a demimonde darling was not going to carry much weight with the ton.
    “There were some widows,” he added. He did enjoy those women who were determined to enjoy what one of them had termed her “hard-earned freedom.”
    “They need their reputation, Roxbury. No one will confess to an affair with a man of questionable proclivities.”
    “Bloody hell,” Roxbury swore, but the curse was insufficient. If there was no way to defuse this rumor . . . If no one would come forward to his defense . . .
    It would be impossible to take a wife, particularly if this morning’s rejected social calls were any indication. And if that failed, he was looking at a life of living on credit and dodging debtor’s prison. His father, it should be noted, was in remarkably good health so his inheritance was far off indeed, not that he wished the man dead.
    “I wouldn’t worry. It should all be forgotten eventually,” Brandon said casually, sipping his drink.
    “I don’t have the time,” Roxbury said tightly. There was that ultimatum, and the clock was ticking. Granted, he’d just declared to hell with it. But that was when he had a choice and now that had been taken from him.
    A life of leisure had been secure an hour ago. Now, he hadn’t a prayer of finding a wife, and he could kiss his fortune goodbye, too.
    Roxbury finished the brandy in his glass and then took a swig straight from the bottle. Life as he knew it was over. It was a sudden death, and he was reeling in shock, denial, regret, and bone-deep terror at what the future would bring.
    And anger, too, because he was powerless to do anything. Marriage was impossible, and a refusal to comply meant little when he lacked the option of agreement. Of course, agreeing to his father’s demands was something he didn’t ever want to do, but the point of remaining a bachelor was to enjoy legions of beautiful women who probably would not have him now. And then he would be poor, too. Poor and alone.
    He wondered if the earl had tried this stunt before, with Edward, and if that had been what sent him off to the navy and off to his death. If anyone thought Roxbury was a hellion . . . then they’d never met his elder brother.
    Roxbury took another sip of his drink, silently cursing this impossible situation.
    “By God, if it weren’t for this damned column, all the debutantes and their mothers would be scheming to have me!”
    “You have a high opinion of yourself,” Brandon said.
    “It’s the truth and you know it, and it’s not about me but my title, my fortune, and, well, I have been called devilishly handsome. Thank God for that. There’s nothing worse than an impoverished lord, except for an ugly one.”
    “Roxbury, you are insufferable.”
    “Bloody hell, I’m going to be poor . When the old man delivered that ultimatum I never thought—”
    Brandon merely took a modest sip of his drink. “What ultimatum?” he asked.
    Roxbury explained. And then he lamented.
    “I don’t even have a choice, or a chance now! All because of a damned newspaper story! All because of that petty, irksome