“It’s true. I am out of practice at fleecing you all out of your money.” Anthony yawned. “Let me just say, though, that this one night of freedom has been a delight. Having an infant at home is no jest.”
“Lady Atherton didn’t get a good night’s sleep for a year after our daughter was born,” Atherton agreed.
“I worry constantly I will do something wrong, and my poor son will grow up to be, I don’t know, an eccentric. A circus performer. Anaccountant.”
“Perish the thought,” said Lark, counting his scant winnings.
Anthony stood. “Well, gents, now that you have all of my coin, I do believe it might be time to call it a night.”
Everyone else followed Anthony’s lead, collected their winnings and wandered off. Atherton moved to the next table and bought into the game happening there, but most of their party left the room.
Anthony stretched and yawned again.
“Did you walk here?” Lark asked.
Anthony nodded. He lived three whole houses away, which was not worth the bother of his carriage.
“I believe I shall walk home with you. Make sure you avoid any ruffians lurking about in the bushes.”
“I’d be grateful, I’m sure,” said Anthony.
They left the card room, made their way through the ballroom to say their good-byes, and then left the party.
It had been an interesting night. In some ways, Anthony was back in his element. Lark had spent a lot of the night in his orbit, and Anthony had been in his old self—charming, witty, self-deprecating. Some of the light had come back to him. It was an enormous relief to see Anthony looking so well. But Lark could also tell that Anthony was bone-deep tired, that some of his wit and charm was masking sadness and fatigue. The latter was subtle, and most who did not know Anthony well would not have spotted it, but Lark could see it.
“Did you take your carriage?” Anthony asked once they were outside.
Lark lived nearby as well, and walking was hardly a burden. “I did not. I find, especially in weather like this, I prefer to walk. It is a ridiculous show of wealth to take a carriage such a short distance when the weather is this fine. Perhaps if I were a woman with all those skirts and the little, delicate shoes that are fashionable right now…”
Anthony looked around and, apparently feeling satisfied with what he saw—which was nothing; there were no people or animals on the street—said, “So Rotherfeld is a piece of work.”
“Anything aside from the obvious?”
“The house party in Kent that I mentioned—”
“It was one of Roscoe’s affairs, you said? I went to one once. I can imagine.” Lord Roscoe periodically held house parties at his country estate that were mostly an excuse to put a lot of beautiful people under the same roof so that they could have sex with each other in various combinations. It had proved too overwhelming for Lark, but he could picture a younger Anthony flourishing there.
“I was young,” Anthony said with a shrug.
“Notthatyoung. You said it was only four years ago.”
Anthony grinned. Lark was happy to see it. Anthony said, “Well, let’s just say, I was not interested in anything so conventional as a monogamous relationship until relatively recently. I’ve matured, you see.”
“Of course.
They walked a few paces toward Anthony’s house in companionable silence.
“That other fellow Rotherfeld was talking to, Lieutenant Hanley?” Anthony said.
“Chatterton’s brother?”
“The same. He and Rotherfeld have been thick as thieves for a long time. Rotherfeld… he brought Hanley to our bed once.”
Lark laughed. “Your life.”
“I know, I know. I promise all that is behind me. I am just saying, that night, I felt a bit extraneous. I believe that Rotherfeld and Hanley have been lovers on and off for a very long time. That night they seemed to have eyes only for each other.”
“In other words, Rotherfeld is about to do what I would not let you do.”
