Page 40 of Everything But the Earl
Something had changed in their relationship. What had started as a bit of fun had turned into something far deeper, and Anthony thought that, if Lark would let him, he would spend the rest of his life ensuring that Lark was happy.
“To the devil with obligations,” said Anthony. “To the devil withdutiesandresponsibilities.I never wanted to be a father. My father had four brothers, each of whom had several sons, and thus I see no reason why the oldest of my cousins should not inherit the title. I did not ask for these obligations. I was merely born into a titled family.”
“You’re not being realistic.”
“Perhaps. But Mother also gave me until the end of next Season. A lot can happen in thirteen months.”
“I do not expect the whole of society to change in that time,” Lark said, putting his hands on Anthony’s waist, “but I suppose if we have a clear last day of our affair, we might as well make the most of our time together.”
“Do you intend to leave me for some debutante next Season?”
“No, but—”
“Do you not also have the same so-called obligation? You shall be a duke someday, shall you not?”
“Yes, but—”
“Hush then, with this talk of obligation. We are free-thinking men who can make our own decisions, and this is a new century. It’s not like when our parents were having their marriages arranged. Society is changing.”
Lark shook his head. “That may be, but it is not changingenough. Not for what you and I are to each other to be socially acceptable.”
“I am content to keep it a secret. Men like us have had secret affairs since man first walked on Earth, I am certain of that. I do to want our affair to end.”
“You live in a fantasy world.”
Anthony smiled. “Perhaps I do. You should come live in it with me.”
“If only.”
“Come, let us drink this fine brandy and talk of less serious things.”
Lark looked like he wanted to protest, but he nodded. He picked up his glass and walked over to sit by the fire.
As Anthony sat in the chair beside him, Lark said, “We’re not finished with this discussion, you know.”
“I know. But we are for tonight.”
Chapter Ten
Dear Owen,
I hope you’re well. I have two important items for you.
First, Morfudd wanted to pass on the attached inventory from the east wing of Caernarfon Castle. She says the windows are beyond repair and must be replaced. Apologies for being the bearer of bad news.
Second, the sheep farm has yielded the following profits this quarter…
The first few letters were simply about business.
Once Owen had arrived back in London, he and Grace started trading regular missives. The first few were rather formal, accounts of what Grace was spending money on and various news about the estate. Apparently she’d been meeting with Gwen and Carys Williams, the wives of two of Arthur’s sons, and they were sharing with her the ins-and-outs of the wool operation. Owen felt pretty good about that; at least Grace was not alone.
Owen received the letters and passed most of the information on to Jonathan Truitt, his man of business. He cared some about how Grace and Morfudd were spending his money, but he didn’t feel that the particulars of windows or the fabric used for curtains needed much of his attention.
Owen had to admit to a certain amount of disappointment. He and Grace had not known each other long, but their weeks together had been…pleasant. Shouldn’t that have merited a more interesting letter than an inventory of purchases and profits?
No, their time together had been more than pleasant. He spent his entire walk to Parliament one morning trying to land on a better adjective. Exciting? Perhaps in a way. Warm? Too mild. Thrilling? Too much. Lovely. Pleasurable. Delightful.
He was so lost in thought, he didn’t see Rockingham approach him as he reached Westminster.
