The thing of it was, Lark had been utterly, completely, ridiculously head-over-heels in love with Anthony. But Lark had chosen to end their relationship for valid reasons. He’d gotten spooked when a man had tried to extort him; that man had met his untimely end in a carriage accident before he could be persuaded not to talk to a scandal sheet, but the incident had worried Lark all the same. Then Anthony’s mother had given him an ultimatum: Anthony must find a woman to marry by the end of the previous Season, or she would choose bride for him. Lark knew he had done the right thing, that their relationship could not survive much longer. They were at risk of getting caught, and thanks to a new bill that had been passed by Parliament, that could very well mean they would have both been hanged. Anthony had no interest in leaving Lark, so Lark had taken the choice out of his hands, thus freeing Anthony to marry without further obligation to Lark.
And now Anthony had the heir his mother had so desperately wanted.
Johnson appeared in his doorway again. “The Marquess of Greystone is here to see you, my lord.”
Lark supposed he deserved that. “Show him in.”
Fletcher appeared in his doorway a moment later. “I just wanted to check that you were still alive.”
“Barely,” Lark said.
Fletcher frowned at him. “The damage should be minimal, although you might want to send a letter to the Duchess of Montford to apologize for spilling wine on her gown.”
Lark groaned and made a mental note to add her to the list. “She was wearing something hideous, wasn’t she?”
“Her gown was a shade of brown reminiscent of a muddy pond.” Fletcher said with a nod. “Undoubtedly you improved it, but I imagine money to pay for the gown’s cleaning would not go amiss.”
“All right. I will send her a letter this afternoon. Was there something else?”
“Hugh’s pretty worried about you.”
Lark sighed. He understood the implication was that Fletcher was worried, too. “I know. I’ve behaved abysmally all Season. I’ve been unable to shake my melancholy and doing a piss poor job of hiding it.”
“You’re still upset about Beresford marrying.”
“I all but pushed him toward the altar. I don’t know why I should feel this way.” Lark pointed at the newspaper. “I’ve solved the mystery of why Anthony has been absent this season.” Anthony hadn’t attended any large social events, although Lark had assumed, perhaps incorrectly, that it was because Anthony was avoiding Lark.
Fletcher sat in a chair across from Lark at the desk. “Don’t torture yourself.”
Lark passed the newspaper to Fletcher. As Fletcher read the item, his eyes widened. “I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”
Fletcher’s tone was that of someone who was anticipating the news. “Did you know about this?” Lark asked.
“I did. I received a letter from Anthony a couple of months ago. I apologize for not saying anything, but his letter explicitly asked me not to tell you. All I knew was that his wife was expecting, but I didn’t know when the baby would arrive.”
Lark sighed. “I had no idea.”
“His letter to me implied he intended to tell you himself. I suppose I am not surprised he didn’t.”
No. Anthony wouldn’t have. Too painful. Too confrontational. “He and I have not spoken since his wedding.”
Fletcher hesitated, but then said, “Look, I cannot know what you are experiencing right now, but there must be healthier options for managing your feelings than trying to find the bottom of every bottle in your liquor cabinet.”
Lark knew Fletcher was correct. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore, but there was clearly no amount of liquor on earth that could obliterate Lark’s grief and regret, or surely Lark would have found it by now. “I’ve been acting like a fool.”
“Your friends have nothing but sympathy for you, but you make it challenging at times.” Fletcher rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry, I should not have said that.”
“You’re not wrong. I’m a mess.”
“Come with me to the club tonight. Spend time with your friends instead of wallowing in your pain alone.”
“All right,” said Lark. “But don’t let me drink anything more potent than tea. I think I need to stay away from liquor for a while.”
“Agreed.”
* * *
Before going to see Lark, Fletcher had spent a long, dull day meeting with a parade of accountants and solicitors and advisors in an attempt to get a handle on his father’s vast business empire.
