The Burlington Manor Affair

“A mother keeps tabs. And with you it’s not hard. If you look in the right places.”

Rex frowned. What right places? Aside from the occasional publicity shot he had taken with Kelly—mostly when he’d accompanied her to events—he kept his press appearances solely to those associated with his business.

“Your mother can use a computer,” she continued. “I’m not that old, you know. Don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m not surprised, and no, you’re not old. I just didn’t know that you—”

“Oh, yes,” she said proudly. “In my line of business we need to know who to invite to exhibition openings, and the internet is the fastest, most comprehensive grapevine I’ve witnessed in my life.”

“True enough.” It had never occurred to him that his mother was tracking his affairs online.

“Kelly was a very presentable young woman, and you lasted several months with her. I was beginning to wonder if I might get a call telling me to budget for a decent wedding outfit.”

Why did that rankle him so? “I hope you didn’t put money on it.”

“I know you too well.” She smiled somewhat sadly. “So is it Carmen Shelby I have to blame for making you sentimental about the old place?”

That annoyed him even more, especially because it came so close on the heels of Carmen’s accusation about him being fond of the house. “Sentiment has nothing to do with it. I’m trying to tidy loose ends.”

The food

arrived and Rex chatted about other things while they ate. Then he had to get to the point.

“There’s something else I wanted to ask you,” he broached. “Something I can’t find out on the internet. This is a bit more personal, but I need to know.”

“That sounds like a warning, but I confess you are intriguing me.” The food and wine had mellowed her attitude to the subject of her ex-husband and his estate. That might be about to change.

“Did you ever know her name, his mistress?”

She paused as she was about to take the last sip of her wine, and returned the glass to the table. “Well, that wasn’t what I expected you to ask.” She eyed him across the table, her brows gathered. “Have you found some papers or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, there’s bound to be documents. He bought her a place to live. Nothing shabby, either. I heard it was a top-floor conversion overlooking Regent’s Park. It’s bound to be there in the papers.”

Rex had no idea, but if she was right it meant he could find out the address by going back through the records. She might not even be living there anymore, but it was a starting point. He made a mental note to call Mrs. Amery and tell her to leave the paperwork to him. He couldn’t risk the address going into the shredder.

“I never knew her last name, but her first name was Olivia.”

“You’ve been really helpful, thank you.”

“You’d be mad to keep the place. Don’t let it get to you now that Charles has passed on. Your whole life and your business are in London. Just think of all that commuting.”

The real reason flickered at the back of her eyes. She was concerned because she believed she would never be able to visit the manor if he took up residence there. She’d always said she wouldn’t go back, too many unhappy memories. Nothing was too great a challenge for Rex, though. He could think of a few circumstances that might make her change her mind.

“If your father has somehow made you feel responsible, or guilty, I won’t be very happy.”

She’d never stopped being angry with him. A strange kind of love, but Rex saw it then. She was driven by a broken heart.

“Did he leave you a letter or something?”

“Just basic legal instructions.” He wasn’t sharing the letter with her. He hadn’t even shared it with Carmen yet. What with everything that had happened in between, it was still folded away in his wallet.

“So don’t let him get to you with any sense of obligation or sentimentality.”

Rex felt disturbed by that. It touched a nerve. He had felt for the old man when he’d sat in his father’s chair in his stronghold in the library, holding the letter, looking at his portrait. “I’m not sentimental about the house. Don’t think that.”

“Carmen, then?”