“Exactly,” Lady Gwen agrees. “It’s all in the conditioning. Father says Parr has his jockeys doing laps on the field alongside the horses.”
“Precisely,” James agrees.
Mason stares at him, surprised, and James sits up a little straighter. There, he’s not such a terrible social companion after all.
“Shall we discuss something that doesn’t leave most of us either yelling or sighing dramatically?” MissBertram suggests.
“Fine,” Mason says. “We’ll see who’s right in a month anyway. Care to place a bet?” he adds, leaning around James again.
“I thought Lord Mason got betting rights from the Spot-the-Scion tournament, didn’t he?” James asks quickly.
Mason groans and slumps against his seat again. “He did.”
“How’s parliament?” Miss Bertram asks, overriding some snarky comment from Lady Gwen.
“It’s going very well,” James says, turning on what little charm he has. “We’re organizing to begin a survey of the various medical institutions across the country and in Scotland to form the skeleton of the registry.”
“Skeleton, good one,” Lady Gwen says with a laugh.
MissBertram smiles at him. “That sounds very exciting. We’d be happy to arrange more research at the Foundling Hospital, if you’d like.”
“That would be grand,” James says, bolstered by the way both ladies are smiling, and how Mason is considering him with what looks like interest. “I’ve been meaning to arrange to meet more of the physicians myself to discuss their work and any improvements they think could be made with the registry as a reference, now that we have a more concrete plan in place.”
“Father might want to join you,” Lady Gwen says. “He’s eager to pick the brains of the various doctors overseeing the births in the maternity ward.”
“I’ll be sure to arrange it,” James says, feeling a little balloon of pride at the thought. Perhaps the opportunity to cement himself as meaningful to his aunt, his cousin, and their family will come from this Medical Act after all.
“Albie will probably want to attend too. Perhaps you could tag along, Bobby,” Lady Gwen suggests.
James glances at Mason to find him watching them all with a strange expression on his face. James doesn’t know if it’s jealousy, surprise, or even intrigue? But it’s a reaction, and that gives him more encouragement.
“Yes, Mason, you could join us. I’m sure your brother would appreciate another set of eyes and ears, so the two of you could strategize afterward.”
Mason’s eyes widen a little and he bobs his head, almost smiling now. “Perhaps.”
“Lord Mason has a whole running list of physicians and former classmates to contact,” James continues, looking over at the girls. “We’re breaking them down by connections and preparing to send letters. Hopefully they’ll get back to us quickly with recommendations of private physicians we can contact too.”
“That sounds wonderful,” MissBertram says.
“Yes, it sounds like you’re really making a solid effort for the act,” Mason adds, leaning in so he can hear the full conversation.
James smiles at all of them just as the lights begin to dim, pleased as punch. “I find it’s quite rewarding to do work that could make so much social change. If we succeed, Lord Mason and I just might save the family reputations after all, and do something of import. I think together we’ve already attended more sessions this season than either of our drunken predecessors, and we’re already making such progress.”
James takes a breath, feeling a little manic. He rarely speaks for so long and—
MissBertram rises abruptly and hurries out of the box. James blinks, confused, jerking when Mason shoves his shoulder. He watches Mason rise and march after MissBertram, leaving James and Lady Gwen alone in the box.
“What happened? Did—” James’ words catch up to him then as Lady Gwen stares at him, incredulous. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean— You must know I didn’t mean to insult— I only— Lord Mason and I actually are doing rather well by the families, and I just meant—”
Lady Gwen turns to watch the curtains below them begin to rise. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” she says curtly.
Shit.
Chapter Nine
Bobby
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Beth says, looking at him over the hand towel she has pressed to her face.
