“Don’t I?”
Lark rolled his eyes and got out of bed. “You aren’t my wife. We have no legally binding relationship. I could bed half the men in London and it wouldn’t make any difference.”
“It would to me.Areyou bedding half the men in London?”
“No. Only you, as it happens.”
“Ah.” Anthony nodded as if he now understood something he hadn’t before. “I guess I have nothing to worry about then.”
Lark wanted to inquire about that but concentrated on getting dressed instead. He was somewhat alarmed by the fact that his clothing was neatly folded and placed on a chair, which meant some silent servant had come in while they slept and picked up his clothes from where they’d been tossed on the floor.
“Servants talk,” Lark said as he slid on his shirt.
“I pay mine not to. Do you need a hand?”
“I—” Lark snapped his mouth closed, not sure how to answer. His valet normally helped him dress, but it wasn’t like he was incapable of pulling on his clothes.
Anthony got out of bed and helped Lark with his buttons. When Lark was dressed, Anthony ran his hands over his waistcoat to make sure everything was smooth. Lark found the gesture sweet, though he didn’t want to.
“I know a fellow,” said Anthony. “He fell in love with a solicitor, of all people. They went to America, where I suppose allthings are possible, or at least where his title meant nothing, and as far as I know, they are living happily ever after on some estate in Virginia.”
“I’ll wager your friend is not heir to a dukedom.”
“Well, no. His father is a viscount, but he’s the third son.”
“Mm-hmm.” Lark shrugged into his jacket and eyed Anthony, trying to convey that he rested his case.
“Fine. Give me a few minutes to make myself presentable and I’ll walk you out.”
*
The conversation withAnthony that morning was still sitting uneasily with Lark as he collected his friends to call on Hugh.
Something about Anthony’s cavalier attitude, like nothing could touch him and he could live as he pleased, made Lark worry. One of these days, Anthony would walk into a trap and great harm would come to him, and there was little Lark could do to stop it. In the meantime, Lark could feel himself becoming increasingly ensnared by Anthony and he worried he wouldn’t be able to extricate himself when the time came.
But he had to set all that aside for now.
As Owen climbed into the carriage, Lark asked, “What is new?”
“Parliament business.”
Fletcher, who was already seated, rolled his eyes. “Who cares?”
Owen grunted. “Lark said our dear friend is staying with Canbury’s daughter. I thought what is going on with Parliament might be relevant.”
“I don’t think it is.” Lark shook his head. “But fine. What is it?”
“Well, Parliament was indeed called to session because Prinny has some sort of urban planning proposal that involves building several new roads that slice through the middle of London, mostly to make the distance between Carlton House and Prinny’s mistresses more direct.” Owen rolled his eyes. “Someone please tell me why I decided taking my father’s house in Lords was a good idea.”
“I tried to talk you out of it, as I recall,” said Lark.
“Anyway, Canbury gave an impassioned speech on the importance of better roads in London, which is fair enough, but it was clear he was trying to ingratiate himself to ol’ Georgie Boy.”
“Does anyone actually call him Georgie Boy?” Lark asked Fletcher.
“Not to his face.”
“As I was saying,” said Owen, “Canbury is definitely angling to become Lord Chancellor or gain some other government position, and he’s apparently willing to kiss Prinny’s shoes to win over the honor. But then!”
