“Each generation wants their lives to be better than their parents,” said Anthony. “But I believe we’ve arrived at a turning point in history, no? Radicals agitating for women to have more freedom, for society to be less buttoned up, our notions of what marriage could or should be shifting, machinery is making the things we buy, our clothing has become a little less restrictive, and so on and so on. New freedoms lurk around the corners,gents. And though perhaps we as individuals are not the tip of the spear for change, you can’t deny that change is happening.”
Fletcher just stared at Anthony, not really appreciating this philosophical turn. Anthony was right, but this was hardly the time. “Yes, change is an unyielding tide and all that. I don’t see how that helps my current predicament.”
“Maybe what you should do is go to the wedding, object when appropriate, and then give Rotherfeld a swift kick to the gut,” said Lark. “Push him out of the way and marry Louisa yourself. I mean, your family will be in attendance, will they not?”
“My mother was invited, yes. And several cousins, actually.”
“Then they cannot object to you getting married without their presence.”
“Lark, I know you’re giddy in love and all that,” said Hugh, “and I’m very glad your melancholia has passed, but your delight in scandal and the misery of others is going to take a moment to get used to again.”
“Giddy in love!” Anthony said, laughing. “Is that what you are?”
Lark rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I’m just making suggestions.”
“And fine as they may be,” said Fletcher, “I don’t intend to create a scene if I can help it.”
“None of you are any fun.”
“Marlborough’s mistress has gifted him with an illegitimate heir,” said Anthony.
“And?” said Fletcher.
“Just sharing gossip. And, I suppose, feeling a bit put out that this news has mostly been greeted with yawns—a young duke fathering a child before he marries, something that has happened since the first duke was created—but so many less significant things are considered scandalous. And I could easily take this to a dark place, so let us ignore me and carry on brainstorming how to get Fletcher out of his predicament.”
“Well, what do you suggest?” Fletcher asked Anthony.
“Money fixes everything.” Anthony shrugged. “I share in Lark’s delight in the possibility of a scene at a wedding. Were any of the rest of you at Mitford’s wedding, when he was left at the altar? Couldn’t have happened to a bigger cad.”
“I only heard about that,” said Lark. “If I recall correctly, the scandal sheets reported he’d been regularly spending nights with a lady of the night, and indeed, spent the eve of his wedding with this woman he was paying.”
“I don’t blame his would-be bride for avoiding syphilis and ending that whole charade,” said Anthony.
Fletcher looked back and forth between Lark and Anthony, who were leaning toward each other as if this were the most fascinating conversation they’d ever had. He cleared his throat.
“Oh, right,” said Anthony, grinning. “My point was, I understand why you would perhaps not want to make a scene, much as I might enjoy it. But this might be one of those cases in which you might deploy your substantial power and fortune in order to orchestrate the outcome you most desire.”
“I had already come to the same conclusion,” Fletcher said, “although it may be a great deal of money. There’s a sheep farm in Bristol that—”
“Is this much ado about a sheep farm?” Anthony asked Lark.
“It is. But it’s a famous and quite profitable sheep farm. Your coat may very well have been made with wool from said sheep farm.”
Anthony looked down at his black wool suit coat and ran his hands over the lapels. “All right. Someone spell out the particulars for me.”
Anthony sat patiently as Fletcher described the situation again. When Fletcher finished, Anthony said, “All right. I’ve got an idea.”
Fletcher listened and found it oddly reasonable. “I’ll take that into consideration.” He wasn’t willing to commit to a plan, but Anthony’s idea was better than anything he’d come up with so far.
“It is nice to see you out here, solving our problems again, Anthony,” said Hugh.
“I am nothing if not unerringly practical.”
“Ha,” said Lark.
Anthony cut Lark a wry look, but said, “I do enjoy your company, gents. Many of my friends have abandoned London in recent years and I am grateful that Lark introduced me to you all.”
“Just don’t let Lark be hanged,” Hugh said. “That’s all I ask.”
