“Have you in my house?” Smiling, Weston shook his head. “Have you a spare room, Wes, by the way? I can’t abide Milbray’s town house much longer. “Off his friends, of course!” Rhys clapped Weston on the back. “But where does a gentleman live while here in town?” the earl asked. In this way, a man can explore the entire globe for less than five hundred pound.”Įveryone laughed, including Standish. One comes home to escape one’s debts abroad.
One goes abroad to escape one’s debts at home. But then, Standish had always been one of those upright, scrupulous sorts who wouldn’t dream of spending beyond his means and evading his bills. “But how does one live without a residence?” asked Standish, looking puzzled. “All the more reason not to have a residence!” Rhys countered, making everyone laugh. I know this because whenever I try to evade the bill, they forward it to my residence.” I, however, am merely a baron, and can never get by with such things. Having a duke dine at your establishment still carries a certain caché. “Only certain peers are able to get by with that in London nowadays, St. Lord Weston, whose friendship with Rhys also went back to boyhood, flashed him a wry grin. Without them, restaurants would be forced to close, and we should never dine out again.” A fortunate thing for us they are able and willing to pay. “The middle class won’t dine at any establishment unless peers frequent it. “Everything,” he answered at once, turning to accept a glass of champagne from a footman. “What do middle class sensibilities have to do with you caging meals at the Clarendon?” Standish, an old acquaintance from days at Oxford and his host for the evening, laughed. “Thank heaven for middle class sensibilities.” “No peer should ever pay at the Clarendon,” he explained to Lord Standish later that night at the opera. He consoled himself with a superb beef fillet and a fine bottle of French Bordeaux, and by some clever timing, he was able to duck out without paying the bill, a practice at which he’d become quite adept the past few years. After studying reports from various land agents, bankers, and attorneys, his spirits were nearly as low as his bank balance, and he had no choice but to dine that night at the Clarendon. Rhys spent Monday reckoning up what little he had in ducal income and Tuesday wading through the complicated mire of the De Winter family debts.
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