when a man has been a naughty baronet

by jonphaedrus, lordgogurt

Summary:

“I’m surprised you’ve not met,” Ross said, as James stuck out his hand for Crozier to shake. He had big, solid hands, surprisingly rough with callouses. “We’re rather lucky to have him for this production. He’s a bit too good for us. Francis, this is James Fitzjames, that young baritone everyone keeps talking about.”

Crozier’s interested gaze cooled. His smile became a sneer. He opened his mouth and said, “The cover.”

Notes:

this big bang project was tons of fun, and enormous thanks goes to lordgogurt, who was a wonderful partner and without whom this fic would not exist!! between proofreading and scene suggestions there could not have been a better partner and i am so so grateful to have been paired up with lordgogurt. not to mention the INCREDIBLE illustration in chapter 4!!

Chapter 1: Prologue

It was Lady Jane who asked the impolitic question. “Do they think you’ll keep the leg?”

Tom’s sigh was distorted by the speakerphone. “Don’t rightly know.” Something wry tangled in the words. “Not yet.”

“We’ll hope for good news. We can handle the show, Tom. Don’t worry about that.” Tom Blanky had always laughed with a mad, excitable sort of cackle. Today, he just managed a quiet huff of a noise. Jim couldn’t blame him the disbelief—he was in hospital, about to potentially have his leg amputated below the knee, and here Jim and Jane were worrying about Ruddigore, of all things.

Clearing his throat, Jim began, “Fairholme will get back from that mess with his cousin—“ at the exact same moment Jane straightened her shoulders and said, “I am certain Ned can brush up; it’s only been three years since he was Despard—“ and Jim could only wince.

“Jane.” She turned towards him, her mouth pinched. “If you try to get Ned Little up on that stage, he’ll die of fright.”

“Fairholme never even made it to rehearsals. I would hardly trust him to know where the dressing rooms are, let alone the part—“

“But Ned—“

“Hush your mouths,” Tom barked down the phone, cutting them both off neatly. “It’s been sorted. He’s got his flight in the morning, so you just be ready for him.”

It was the work of only a moment of thought to connect the dots. “Tom,” Jim breathed, “you gift.”