Chapter Thirteen #3
Anthony frowned. “Not exactly. This is…whatever is happening here will be difficult to navigate. But I don’t want to waste any more time doing what I should be doing.
Life is too short. What I want to do is be with you and raise my son.
I don’t know how to make all that happen yet, but I am determined to try. ”
“And you forgive me for my unspeakable idiocy in pushing you away?”
Anthony nodded slowly. “Somehow, I do. I always understood why, I just disagreed with you. But then they hanged Charlie Ingle, and I thought, well, maybe Lark had a point. And I married Matilda, which meant that she spent the last year of her life free of her terrible family. I think she was happy, at least. And she gave me Henry, and I don’t know how to express it, but I love that little boy more than I’ve ever loved anything—even you, no offense—and I am grateful for that.
So some good things came of the events you set in motion when you kicked me out of your house. ”
Lark laughed softly. He put his arms around Anthony and pulled him close. “I’m so sorry about everything.”
“I know.” Anthony ran a hand up and down Lark’s back, a gesture Lark found intensely comforting. “I know. I am, too. So let’s make the most of the opportunity we have now.”
“When did you get so clever?”
“Lord knows. Some kind of temporary condition, I think. I’m sure it will wear off.”
Lark laughed into Anthony’s shoulder. He loved this man. He intended not to let him go again.
* * *
Back at the Atherton ball, Fletcher spoke with Owen and tried to pretend he wasn’t looking for Louisa. He’d seen her dancing with Rotherfeld earlier but had since lost track of her.
“…but then Ardsley said he was writing a novel, so…” Owen was saying. Fletcher wasn’t really listening. Owen had been telling some story about the Duke of Ardsley that Fletcher could not make himself care about.
Louisa appeared quite suddenly, as if she’d manifested out of thin air. “Greystone. May I have a word?”
“Yes, of course.”
Owen frowned. “This is good gossip I’m giving you, and you haven’t heard a word I have you?”
“I’m sure it was fascinating. Go dance with your wife. Tell me later.”
Louisa led Fletcher out of the crush of the ballroom. “You men gossip more than us women do.”
“Gentlemen certainly do. It helps us pass our idle time. But you did not come to me for gossip.”
“No.”
“I’d like to speak where we cannot be heard,” Fletcher said, ignoring the barb. “Do the Athertons have a terrace?”
Just then, Lady Atherton appeared. “Oh, Lord Greystone. Lady Louisa. Have you seen my garden?”
Fletcher glanced at Louisa, who had a glint in her eye. “We have not.”
“Oh, let me show you. It’s magic at night.”
It turned out to be serendipitous. Lady Atherton led them outside and gave them a tour of her small but quite grand garden.
Gas lamps lit a path through the center, and a marble bench looked like a good place to have a conversation.
And then, just as Fletcher was trying to work out how to get rid of Lady Atherton, a woman stuck her head out of the house and said, “Lady Atherton, I need your help at once.”
“Oh dear,” said Lady Atherton. “I suppose I must go then.”
“Do you mind if we sit in the garden for a few minutes?” asked Fletcher. “I’m finding the cool air to be a nice relief from the crush of the ballroom.”
“It’s truly a lovely party,” said Louisa. “We’ll return in a few minutes.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Stay as long as you like.” Lady Atherton smiled. “Oh, I remember when you two were children.”
“Oh,” said Louisa, sounding startled.
“The two of you were always best of friends.”
“Yes,” said Fletcher.
“And now, Louisa, I hear you are marrying the Duke of Rotherfeld.”
“Yes,” said Louisa. “I imagine you must have received your invitation by now.”
“Oh, yes, we did. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am as well.” Louisa sounded like she was lying.
“I suppose I don’t need to admonish you to behave, as you are adults now,” Lady Atherton said. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten that time you replaced the water in the birdbath with tea.”
Fletcher chuckled. He’d been about eight at the time and had just wanted to see if birds liked tea. He’d pulled better pranks. But he appreciated that Lady Atherton remembered.
“Well, I must be off. Enjoy the night air.” Lady Atherton went inside, leaving Fletcher and Louisa quite alone in the garden.
They both began speaking at once.
“I must ask your opinion,” said Louisa at the same time Fletcher said, “I want to apologize.”
Fletcher gestured toward the bench, and they both sat.
“You first,” said Fletcher.
She took a deep breath. “I am still cross with you, but I need an honest opinion.”
“Then I shall give one to you.”
She nodded. “All right. I have some suspicions about Rotherfeld.”
Fletcher held his breath. “What sort of suspicions?”
“I am probably imagining things, but I was with Rotherfeld tonight when we greeted the Marquess of Beresford, and…” She frowned. “I’ve spent enough time around them that I know Beresford and Waring have an unusual relationship.”
Something in Fletcher warmed. Perhaps he would not have to break this terrible news to her. He’d been trying to work out how all night. “Yes,” he said.
“They are…” Louisa shook her head. “They are lovers, are they not?”
Fletcher could tell by her body language that the idea made her uncomfortable. “Not currently, as far as I know, but they have been in the past, yes.”
“I’ve heard that people who prefer their own sex are not uncommon.”
“That is true. Not common, as such, but they exist.” Fletcher was somewhat relieved he wouldn’t have to explain this to her, and perhaps more relieved to let her into the small circle of people who knew about whatever was going on between Lark and Anthony.
“The idea of it…I don’t quite understand it. Women do not appeal to me in that way.”
“Nor do men appeal to me, but some people are just…built differently.”
“Do you think it’s a sin?”
“It’s not really my place to say. I generally think people should make their own choices.
And I’ve spent enough time with Waring and Beresford that I know how much they cared for each other.
Or, I suppose they still do, but things are complicated because of Beresford’s marriage and… anyway, it’s not really my business.”
“Right. Just, when Rotherfeld greeted Beresford tonight, he used his Christian name, which may not mean anything, but Rotherfeld told me they barely knew each other. If that were the case, he wouldn’t feel comfortable calling Beresford ‘Anthony.’”
Fletcher nodded. “Why would he lie to you about not knowing Beresford?”
“Exactly. And then, a little while later, we spoke with an old school friend, a Lieutenant Hanley.”
The name rang a bell. Fletcher wracked his brain. “Ah…Hanley. A relation to Chatterton?”
“His younger brother.”
“Yes, of course. What happened when you spoke to him?”
“It’s not anything specific. Just something about Rotherfeld’s posture. The way they spoke and touched each other. It seemed…intimate. Please tell me I’m imagining things.”
Fletcher closed his eyes, hating himself a little bit. He didn’t want to destroy her. But he said, “You are not imagining things.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m not?”
“I have been wanting to speak with you so I could tell you. Beresford confessed me that he and Rotherfeld were lovers many years ago.”
Louisa gasped and put a hand over her mouth.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this. It’s…awkward, no?”
“It is, but I want to know the full truth.”
Fletcher hesitated. He couldn’t decide how blunt to be, but if she was asking him for the full truth, he supposed he could give it to her.
“I wanted to tell you sooner. I have no particular fondness for Rotherfeld, to be honest, but Beresford has become my friend, and I did not want to implicate him in anything, especially now that he has a child. So I couldn’t tell you in a letter. ”
“No, of course not. Especially not because my mother has been intercepting my correspondence.” She shook her head. “What a fool I have been.”
“No. There’s no way you could have known. By rights, you shouldn’t even be able to conceive of this possibility. Ladies aren’t meant to know about such things.”
“Fletcher. Let me assure you, there are a lot of things we gently bred ladies aren’t meant to know yet still know.”
Well that was…useful to know. He wanted to ask about that, but he set it aside for later.
“I just mean, you could not have known. The only reason I know is that Waring is one of my oldest friends, and we’ve discussed some of this at length, and even if I do not fully understand it, I understand that sometimes the heart wants what it wants.
That desire and love are not always rational. ”
“That is one way to put it.”
“I wanted you to have this information so that you might make an informed choice about whether to carry on with your engagement.”
“My misgivings about Rotherfeld mount by the day.” She stared into the distance before turning toward Fletcher. “But how do I confront him with this?”
“It could be that there is nothing to confront. Just because Rotherfeld and this Lieutenant Hanley are friends and seem close does not mean they are lovers. It does not mean Rotherfeld is stepping out on you.”
“But it makes sense. The fish kiss thing, for example. He does not seem to desire me at all. Is it possible for a man to prefer only his own sex?”
“Yes, I do believe that is possible.”
“Do you think that is the case for Rotherfeld?”
“I can’t know what’s in his heart or his head.”
Louisa frowned and looked at the ground. “Let me think on it more. What else did you want to tell me.”
Fletcher took a deep breath. Here he’d have to put his whole heart on the ground at her feet. He didn’t think anything less would win her over. No more equivocating. No talking around things. He started with, “I wanted to apologize for how we left things.”
“You said something cruel.”