Page 9 of Everything But the Earl
“Yes, darling.”
Hugh looked intently into his wife’s eyes. “I have no regrets. Do you?”
“Not one.”
Hugh rested his chin on his wife’s shoulder. “I don’t know if ‘festival of delights’ is the phrasing I’d use, but marriage is certainly far more enjoyable than I ever imagined.”
“Yes, but you actually love your wife,” Owen pointed out.
“You and Grace may grow to love each other,” Adele said. “That is quite common intonmarriages, is it not? If not, she is an agreeable woman and you may grow to be friends. There are a number of possibilities. Pleasing her parents by offering for her is not the worst thing that will ever happen to you.”
“I’ve known Grace my entire life,” Anthony said. “In addition to being beautiful, she is clever and practical. A good conversationalist. Kind and friendly. She has a lot of traits to recommend her.”
“Why not just follow through on the betrothal?” said Lark, sounding irritated.
“Hush. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, darling.”
Owen looked around the room. “Fletcher, you are often the voice of reason. What do you think about all this?”
Fletcher frowned. “We are of an age in which we will look increasingly ridiculous if we do not marry. Like you, I am in no hurry, but I can’t help but think that everyone here has a point. Although, ofcourse, I will resent you for the rest of my days for leaving me as the lone unmarried man in the group.”
“Lark is not married.”
“Lark has Beresford.”
Owen groaned. He stood and strolled over to the table where Anthony had left the whiskey and refilled his glass. “Well, I hope to see you all at my wedding, then.”
*
Lark lived juston the other side of Grosvenor Square from Hugh, and as they left Hugh’s house, Lark invited Anthony to walk home with him.
They walked silently until they were out of earshot of Lark’s other friends, at which point Lark said, “So you would not marry some woman for the sake of appearance?”
“No,” said Anthony. He felt strongly about this point. He felt no sexual pull toward women and knew he would struggle to consummate such a marriage. “What is the purpose of marriage if not to legitimize heirs? I have no intention of fathering an heir. I’m leaving my estate to my cousin in my will. I’m sure he’ll be happy to take up my title upon my death. Likely he is already trying to engineer such an outcome.”
“Hopefully that is many decades in the future,” said Lark. He sighed. “You don’t think marriage may have other purposes? A public commitment, perhaps? Hugh and Adele have formed a partnership, and sometimes I envy them.”
“You do?”
“Marriage and love often have little to do with each other, but there is something romantic in me that appreciates a love match.” They reached Lark’s house and Lark paused on the front stoop. “I think you must too, which is why you refuse to marry Lady Grace.”
“I do like her. Thus I want her to have a real marriage. Owen likes her enough to have kissed her, so there is some potential there. He can do things for her that I cannot.”
Lark nodded and walked up the steps of the front stoop. Anthony followed him. When Lark opened the door, his butler was waiting there and took both of their coats. Anthony nodded at him in acknowledgement. Lark paid his staff handsomely for their discretion, and Anthony had long stopped caring what anyone in the house thought of his presence there. Lark proceeded up the stairs, presumably headed for his bedchamber, so Anthony followed.
Once they were in the room, Lark said, “Part of me wishes I could marry you.”
Anthony paused, surprised by the sentiment. “What makes you say that?”
“I love you. We’ve been together for nearly eighteen months now and I do not see myself ever tiring of your company. I wish that we could walk arm-in-arm in the park the way married couples do, because I often want to touch you in public but of course cannot do so. And, well…”
Lark’s valet appeared at the doorway. Lark dismissed him with a hand gesture.
So, they were now quite alone. Anthony sat on the bed and began to wrestle off his boots.
“Couples who marry do often give a part of their heart to each other,” Lark went on. “Even if they are not a great love story, they have some affection for each other, usually. And, well, you have not just part of my heart, Anthony. You have my whole heart.”
Anthony stopped what he was doing and looked up at Lark, who stared back at him with the kind of earnestness that could break him. “Lark.”
