The Burlington Manor Affair

by Saskia Walker

  “I didn’t give you my opinion. I gave you a heartfelt warning. Believe me, my opinion would have been a whole lot harder to hear. You’re my buddy. I care what happens to you.”

  Nate sighed, clearly losing his patience. “She’s damaged, for sure, but...well, she might be worth mending.”

  Damaged. Rex thought about that theory after they leveled up again and said their goodbyes. It wasn’t a term he associated with people, but he remembered his mother using it. She’d been talking about his dad at the time, of course. “Damaged people do damage to others,” she’d said. “They can’t help themselves. It’s what they’ve learned to do.”

  Rex had argued, thinking it an angry lash back from a woman who’d been wronged. It was also too much of a generalization to earn his agreement. Thinking about it now, however, he could see the sense in it. At least, to some extent. His father had done damage to pretty much everyone around him. Either directly or indirectly. Charles Carruthers had hurt all of them, beginning with Bea Swanitch, Rex’s mother.

  She’d had every right to leave him when she found out about his mistress. It had been harsh for her. She’d loved Charles deeply, but she rebuilt her life. Returning to her family and friends in South London, his mother rejoined the life she’d had before. She’d come from an arts background and found her way there again. Nowadays she lived with her partner—a Swedish architect who Rex got on with well—and she managed a small art gallery near Sloane Square.

  Rex tapped his lips thoughtfully.

  Maybe his own mother would be a better source of information than his dad’s buddy. Would she open up about the mistress? She’d refused to speak to him about his dad for years, but Charles Carruthers was gone.

  And I need to know.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “COME IN,” CARMEN called out when there was a knock at her office door.

  Estelle was there with two of the girls from marketing, Priya and Suzanne. “We’re heading down to the Asian buffet for lunch, want to join us?”

  Carmen gestured at the take-out bag on her desk. “I’d love to, but I had food delivered. I’ve got something specific I want to take care of.”

  “We’ll bring you a fortune cookie.”

  Carmen waved. She needed more than a fortune cookie to help sort her head out. The task she’d set for herself was to go through every photo she could find on the internet of Rex with another woman, every bit of gossip and evidence of his philandering nature. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know about it already. She was simply going to drum it into her head, forever, because it was so easy to forget when subjected to his seductive charms.

  Plus he was keeping something from her. Playing house wasn’t all there was. He wanted her by his side, but he didn’t want to take her to his home. On Sunday morning he’d taken her to her place to pick up some of the things she’d need for the week, and he’d peered around, curious about where she lived and her belongings. But he hadn’t taken her to his place. He said he’d go during the week. Was there another woman’s things there, or evidence of his past lovers?

  After the situation with Amanda and what followed, she knew she had to face up to it. This was a temporary arrangement, and the sooner she got used to the idea that he’d be with other women in the blink of an eye, the better it would be for her. Somehow, her guard had slipped. She was entertaining foolish fantasies about him, when what she really wanted to do was be levelheaded and just enjoy it while it lasted.

  In order to help her fix that goal in mind, she entered Google searches on his name and business, scanning photos that went back over the past decade. Most recently was the Australian model, Kelly Brown. Touted as the next Elle Macpherson, leggy blonde Kelly had lasted several weeks with Rex, months even. It hurt, stupidly so, but Carmen forced herself to look at the glamorous photos of them together at racing events and after-show parties at Paris fashion week.

  The farther she went back, the more a pattern emerged.

  Rex only entertained short, intense affairs.

  Short. Like two weeks, or a month?

  Yes, he liked to play hard and move on.

  Carmen realized she had to grow a thicker skin, and fast.

  * * *

  REX STOOD OUTSIDE the Lomsdale Gallery and looked through the large plate-glass window at his mother. Bea Swanitch was closing on her fifty-fifth birthday but would easily pass for a woman a decade younger. He observed her as she dealt with a delivery person; she was impeccably dressed and unflustered even though there was some problem with the papers.

  When she was done and had caught sight of him, she waved and then spoke to her assistant. A few moments later, she joined him on the busy Sloane Square pavement and they headed toward her favorite nearby restaurant. Rex glanced over his shoulder as they went, as he’d done since Friday.

  “I didn’t think you’d have time for a lunch date this week.”

  Rex noticed how carefully she worded that. She was aware that he was dealing with his father’s estate, but wouldn’t refer to it directly. “Things are turning out to be a little bit more complicated than I anticipated.”

  “Is there a lot of paperwork to sort out before you can put the house on the market?”

  “I’m not sure I will be putting it on the market.”

  They were within five feet of the doorway to the restaurant, but his mother stopped in her tracks. “Please tell me you’re not considering living up there.”

  Rex had anticipated that reaction. His mother would absolutely hate it if he took up residence at Burlington Manor. “Don’t look so dismayed.” He put a reassuring hand on the back of her shoulder and ushered her on, opening the door to the restaurant as they went. “I don’t know what I’m doing at the moment.”

  Never a truer word said, he thought wryly.

  “Maybe you can help me sort a few things out,” he added after the manager had directed them to a table close to the window and they’d taken up their seats.

  She gave him a suspicious glance. “It’s not often you ask for my advice, but since you have, I think you should get rid of the place as quickly as possible.”

  “Lighten up. Dad’s gone now.” Everything associated with his father was shrouded in negativity for Bea Swanitch, apart—luckily—from himself. “I know it’s difficult for you but the house wasn’t always an unhappy place.”

  She pursed her lips and concentrated on reading the menu for a few moments. The waiter appeared and took their orders. Once they were alone, she responded. “Rex, have some sense. It’s not a working estate. It’s a money sink.”

  “I never understood why he didn’t change that. Why didn’t he look into ways to make the house earn a living?”

  She gave him a shrewd glance.

  Rex gestured with his hands. “I know you hate talking about him, but there are a few things I need to know, just to sort out...some issues I’m having at the property.”

  “So this is the real reason we’re having lunch.” She wore a vaguely amused expression, indicating she wasn’t too bothered.

  “I always enjoy taking you to lunch, but I honestly could do with some information. My father hasn’t exactly made it straightforward, and while I can’t blame him for that, it’s not altogether easy for me to deal with.” Rex was beginning to feel as if his father had left him something of a dubious legacy, one that had mysterious complications attached. At first he’d been amused by the deal with Carmen, and he relished the prospect to get close to her as a result. But the subsequent events and emotional ties meant he was delving deeper into the past than he’d planned.

  His strategy worked. His mother nodded. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all. His life was a mess so why should his passing be any different.”

  Their drinks had arrived and she took a sip of her chardonnay. “Charles was old school. There was m
oney in the coffers when he inherited, and he used it to maintain the manor. When it ran out, and after we split, he married money.”

  Rex didn’t want to give his opinion on the matter. Perhaps Charles Carruthers had married Sylvia Shelby for the money—they would never know for sure—but the two of them were happy together.

  “Charles kept me out of the estate affairs, but it doesn’t take long to notice the immense upkeep a property like that demands. Coal mining had funded the Carruthers family for decades, but when that closed down in the 1980s it soon became apparent that things weren’t looking so rosy for Charles. After you were born I did suggest he open the grounds for private clay pigeon shooting parties and the like, but he said Burlington Manor was his home and he wanted it to remain a family home as it always had been.” She rolled her eyes. “Albeit without me in it, once I found out about his mistress.”

  Rex was about to ask about the mistress, but now that she’d got started his mother was on a roll.

  “I thought he might hitch up with his bit on the side, but he didn’t. Instead, he married wealthy businesswoman Sylvia Shelby, which meant Charles didn’t have to contemplate opening the place up.” She forced a smile. “Clever that.”

  Rex sat back in his chair and thought about the implications. He’d always accepted that he came from a broken, dysfunctional family. Yet those years when Sylvia Shelby-Carruthers had been mistress at the manor had been the happiest of all. Growing up there as a child, his parents had argued. Then came the divorce. When he was told his father was marrying again, he’d expected the worse and rebelled against his father, majorly. As a result, his father hadn’t allowed him to come home from boarding school for the holidays until Sylvia and Carmen were well-settled and the renovations Sylvia funded were under way.

  It wasn’t an immediate acceptance, but when he walked into that house the year he finished school and had some months to wile away before university, it felt so different that it was hard to cast aspersions on the new arrangements. He tried for a while, solemnly resenting the happy family he found ensconced there. Sylvia had a knack with people, though, and then there was Carmen. Just thinking about her made him feel more focused on making this right.

  Carmen must’ve found it difficult, too, back then. Why did I never consider that? That first summer he’d given her a hard time and treated her like a spoiled brat. By the following Christmas, however, the time they spent together had a decidedly different mood to it.

  “It’s a big burden he’s left you with.” The sound of his mother’s voice snapped him back to the moment. “I can see it’s taking its toll on you. You didn’t even look this distracted when your first prototypes were being put to test.”

  Rex smiled. “Sorry. It’s pretty weird going back there after all these years and trying to piece together what happened.”

  She rested her elbows on the table and meshed her fingers. “Rex, you know your own mind, and I’ve always been able to rely on you to make the best decisions in life. I will, however, remind you that your business should be your first consideration. Don’t let that pile of old stones and its weird history drain your energies. You can’t afford to let Slipstream suffer.”

  “You’re quite right, and I do appreciate your wisdom on this.”

  His mother relaxed visibly. “So, you’re going to get it on the market as soon as possible.” She opened her bag as she spoke. “Auctioning it off will be the quickest route, and you’ll be able to invest the proceeds in your business, which is a much more viable and creative pursuit than anything your father ever did.” She smiled at him proudly. “You’ll be done and back in London within the month.”

  Rex lifted his eyebrows at her. “As I mentioned at the outset, it’s not quite as simple as that. I don’t have sole ownership.”

  His mother had been looking for something in her handbag but she stopped. Her head jerked up to look at him. “Really? Who did he...” She paused and then nodded. “Sylvia Shelby’s daughter. Carmen, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Carmen.”

  “Second wives always benefit. They get it easy, while first wives get the tough years followed by the wreckage that comes with a man’s midlife crisis.”

  Rex suddenly remembered why he’d been agreeable to the ban on discussing his father all these years. The bad feeling was never far away. He sympathized with his mother, and for many years he’d also been angry at his father. It was hard for her, finding out that her husband had a mistress, but Rex didn’t like the bitterness he saw in his mother’s expression. It was still eating away at her even after all these years. “Sylvia Shelby died a tragic death. She’s hardly benefited.”

  “You know what I mean. Her daughter benefited.”

  “And so has your son.”

  “Of course, you’re Charles’s heir.”

  “And, as you so rightly pointed out, Sylvia’s financial support and the work she did on Burlington Manor kept it afloat.”

  His mother shrugged and went back to her handbag, pulling out a powder compact and opening it up to check her appearance in the mirror. “From what I’ve heard, Carmen Shelby doesn’t need the money. Her PR person is a friend of a friend. Her business has an excellent turnover and keeps her very busy.”

  “That is the case, yes.”

  She tucked her compact away and then studied him.

  Her scrutiny was top form. He shuffled in his seat and fiddled with his wineglass. “Carmen doesn’t want to sell.”

  “I’m surprised. But what’s the problem? Why don’t you just let her buy you out?”

  “Because I don’t want to let her buy me out.”

  “Good grief, Rex. It’s the past, let it go.”

  He stared across at her, wanting to tell her it wasn’t just the past. He never discussed his relationships with his mother.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Surely you can’t be serious...you haven’t got the hots for your half sister?”

  Rex’s mood shifted in an instant. “Stepsister. Ex-stepsister even. We’re not blood related.”

  “Well, clearly you do have the hots for her.”

  Damn it. She’d phrased her question that way in order to trap him into a confession.

  “What about that attractive model you’re seeing, Kelly, isn’t it?”

  “That was over weeks ago. I didn’t even know you knew about her.”

  “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.”