Read Online A Tale of Two Lovers by Maya Rodale - Free Book Online Page A

thing.
    “At least the Man About Town’s column has me chasing after a woman, even if it is that demon Lady Somerset,” Roxbury remarked dryly, referring to last week’s column, which reported him following her.
    “She’s lovely, Roxbury. A little sharp, but that is to be expected after a marriage like the one she was stuck in. You remember old Somerset, do you not?”
    “No.”
    “Any scandal, particularly one involving whoring, drinking, and gaming, and you could be certain that Somerset was involved.”
    “That’s like half the men in the ton,” Roxbury said with a shrug.
    “Yes, but it’s always particularly devastating for a young woman in love before the stars have faded from her eyes. An old lady like me knows what to expect.”
    “You’re hardly old,” he said to Jocelyn. She could not be more than eight and twenty. Lady Somerset, however, appeared young but had a smart look in her eye. She had seen and heard things about the world. She was not an innocent.
    “In my profession I am,” she said with a lovely, pitiable sigh.
    He smiled, before launching into the reason he had called upon her.
    “I need a favor from you, Jocelyn.”
    “Anything,” she said. They had a long history together, from his early university days when she was the barmaid at the local tavern to just last week when they had been indulging in a bit of fun. He’d never been one of her formal protectors, but always the one she came to when she was in trouble.
    “I need you to tell your side of this scandalous, salacious story,” Roxbury said, carefully watching her response.
    His grand plan: Have Jocelyn spill all the details that he was just an average rake, not one with peculiar tastes. Enjoy women flocking to him once more. Then he would consider taking some biddable, ignorable miss as a wife to satisfy the demands of the ultimatum, but carry on with pleasure as usual.
    Roxbury found that social ostracism did not suit him—not exactly a surprising discovery. He was a creature that thrived upon laughter, the energy of a crowded ballroom, quick conversation, a woman’s inviting gaze, her satiated body beside him in bed. He needed these things for a proper existence. As it was, he felt like an animal in captivity. Every need fulfilled except for the thrill of the hunt and the dangers of the wild.
    “Oh,” Jocelyn said with noticeably less enthusiasm.
    “Oh?”
    “I am in the process of negotiating an affair with Lord Brookes. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
    Confessing to making love in a hallway with another man was the sort of thing that would.
    A tense moment of silence ensued.
    “But you’ll take care of me, won’t you?” she asked, knowing the answer.
    Roxbury only smiled because he wanted to promise her everything, but for the first time in his life, there was no guarantee that he would be good for the money. He felt sickened.
    What had he come to—begging for favors from old friends to salvage his reputation so he could possibly do the second-to-last thing he wanted to do—get married? A life of poverty was the very last thing.
    Not for the first time did he curse that ultimatum. He did not like the choices presented to him, and suspected that in truth the matter was out of his hands. No proper woman was at home to him. How was he to marry one, then, when he couldn’t get an interview to propose?
    If Jocelyn would just print her story, and clear his name. . .
    “I can make it up to you, Jocelyn,” he promised. Somehow, some way, he thought, though he knew not how. There would probably be jewelry involved. But before he could mention that there might be a brooch or a necklace at the end of it . . .
    “Oh, to hell with it,” Jocelyn exclaimed. “Come, Roxbury, let’s go spill all our secrets to the press.”
    T he true identity of the Man About Town was and always would be a mystery. For forty years he (or she?) had been chronicling the lives, loves, scandals, and secrets of the haut ton.
    In