Page 30 of Everything But the Earl
“For now. Fine.”
“Good.”
Hugh and Fletcher were approaching from the other side of the room.
“May I point out,” Anthony said, “that Hugh’s father-in-law is repeatedly rumored to flounce around in women’s clothing and visit molly houses, and though I know that’s not true, and the press has gone easier on him since his daughter married a duke, the rumors still pop up periodically. And yet, he carries on in Parliament. And he’s so far up Prinny’s backside, he—”
“I take your point.” Lark walked away from the fireplace, a sign the argument was over.
“Trouble, lads?” Fletcher asked.
“No,” said Anthony. “At least none that Lark isn’t looking for.”
“You think Iwantthis?” Lark said. “You think I wantanyof this?”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“Bloody hell.” Lark stalked out of the room.
Anthony considered going after him, but he figured Lark needed time to cool off. Instead, Anthony dropped into a chair near the fireplace.
“What was that row about?” Fletcher asked, sitting across from Anthony.
“Politics,” said Anthony.
“Silly thing, politics,” Fletcher said.
Anthony gave Fletcher a once over. Fletcher also stood to inherit a title—his father was a marquess—so he would eventually have a seat in Parliament as well. However, he’d long been disinterested in both politics and idle gossip, which made it difficult for Anthony to come up with things to speak with him about. Anthony tossed about for sometopic of conversation and recalled that Fletcher was a patron of the arts.
“I say, Fletcher, have you yet had time to see the new opera at the Royal Opera House? I heard it is a take onPygmalion.”
“No, but I am taking Lady Louisa Petty to see it at the end of this week. Do you plan to see it as well? It’s a new composer, Donizetti. He is quite young. I’m curious to see if the new opera is good.”
Anthony smiled. Fletcher’s Italian pronunciation of the young composer’s name indicated he was, in fact, a fan of Italian operas. “You will have to tell me your thoughts. Although I often go to the opera to be seen, and rarely to, you know, see the opera.”
“Lady Louisa loves opera, and so I must hold my tongue as she listens.”
Ah, yes. One mustn’t let it be known that one liked art too much. It was not what men did. Anthony did like opera, or he liked the spectacle of a good production, but he liked socializing with his peers more. “I did like that production ofThe Magic Flutethey put on last Season. The costumes were beautiful.”
“Lady Louisa and I saw that three times. She thought it was wonderful.”
Anthony took this to mean Fletcher also enjoyed it but did not want to say as much.
Hugh looked on, not saying anything. Hugh had rarely been seen at the Royal Opera House, and so might have thought Anthony and Fletcher were speaking gibberish.
It was probably time for Anthony to take his leave anyway. Find Lark and smooth down his ruffled feathers.
“I should be off. But Swynford, before I go,” Anthony said, standing back up. “May I have a word?”
“It’s fine,” Fletcher said. “I can entertain myself. Deal myself a game of whist. Work on my skills.”
Anthony pulled Hugh into a quiet corner and relayed what Larkhad told him and a brief summary of their argument. Then he said, “You must have some influence with your father-in-law. Can you make sure this bill never makes it to the floor?”
“I can’t make sure of anything, but I can come up with a cover story and convey that it’s…unnecessary. Isn’t buggery already illegal?”
“Technically, but it’s one of those cyclical things. Every, oh, thirty years or so, someone decides thesin that shall not be namedneeds more attention, and that men who seek their pleasure with other men should be burned at the stake. The MPs in Parliament need an issue to throw attention off something they plan to do that they think will be unpopular, is my guess.”
“I can’t do anything about Commons.”
