Page 56 of Everything But the Earl
He’d spent the day being lectured by older Lords about the way he should be performing his role in Parliament, and he resented all of it.
Fletcher was already sitting there, reading a newspaper. He spared Owen a glance. “Challenging day?”
“The aristocracy is terrible.”
“Indeed.”
“How are things in your life?”
“Not bad,” said Fletcher. “The weather is unbearably hot, but I went to a garden party thrown by a friend of Louisa’s this afternoon, and though it was quite prolific with feminine giggles and ruffles and things, I had a good time despite myself. But I also felt the need to come here tonight to talk to some of my male friends. Drink some whiskey.” He grunted and tapped his chest.
“Yes, of course. That’s nice, though.”
“Louisa wanted to introduce me to another friend of hers, a Miss Angelica Rathbone, who does live up to her name, because she is indeed quite angelic. Face like a porcelain doll.”
Owen sat up, happy to have someone else’s life to focus on for a change. “Oh? Do you have designs on Miss Rathbone?”
“No. She’s beautiful, but she’s only seventeen, and I think Tilton had an eye on her.”
“Marriage is not so bad, you know.”
“I suspect I will succumb to it eventually. But have you ever met a woman who is perfect on paper but for whom you feel nothing? Everything about Angelica Rathbone screams ‘ideal wife candidate.’ She’s beautiful and clever and speaks with a voice like honey, and yet I felt no physical pull toward her.”
“Is there anyone you are attracted to?”
Fletcher shrugged, which implied he did. But then he said, “No.”
“I did have that experience once,” Owen conceded. “Do you remember Octavia Laurence?”
Fletcher appeared to mentally search his memories. “Everleigh’s daughter?”
“Yes. Beautiful girl, right? One of the smartest people I ever met. Studied mathematics for fun.”
“Oh, yes, I remember her. Dark hair, on the thin side, very tall. Yes?”
“That’s her. We spoke for nearly half an hour at a ball once, and Ifound her quite charming, so I called on her the next day and took her on a promenade around the park. But in the bright light of day, I realized that I felt nothing for her. She didn’t, how shall I put this? She did not stir my loins.”
Fletcher laughed. “Yes. Precisely. That is how I felt about Angelica Rathbone.”
“Of course, I was having an affair with Miss Mooney at the time.”
“Yes, your actress. So perhaps you were besotted with your lover that Octavia Laurence’s virginal purity did not signify.”
“Perhaps. That is, Elsa Mooney was a bit of a distraction, but Grace was similarly the picture of virginal purity, and I was instantly attracted to her.”
“And not still bedding Miss Mooney.”
“True. Right, my point was, perhaps you really do harbor some feelings, physical or otherwise, for another woman and thus do not feel the pull toward Miss Rathbone.”
“But there’s no one in my life to whom I have that pull. I am not currently having any affairs.”
Owen suspected the object of Fletcher’s desire was his dear old friend and frequent social companion, Lady Louisa, but he let it go because Hugh and Lark arrived then.
“What are we discussing?” Lark asked as he sat.
“Fletcher’s lack of attraction to Angelica Rathbone.”
Lark wrinkled his nose. “Really? She’s beautiful.”
