The Greatest Showman #709 - Private Club

"Master Renly, the apartment in Knightsbridge has been cleaned," Philip's calm voice interrupted the silence in the carriage, like the fragrance of tea on a quiet afternoon.

Renly, looking relaxed, joked, "Philip, if you say that, I'm actually starting to miss the afternoon black tea." He smiled wryly. "I like traditional English afternoon tea, or more accurately, I dislike it."

The British tradition of afternoon tea involved several staples that Renly could not stand. First, tea bags were the norm; second, sugar and milk were always included; and third, the pastries and desserts were exquisite, but overly refined. Renly rejected all of this. His preferred version of afternoon tea was vastly different. First, the tea must be brewed from whole leaves, not the dregs; second, there must be no condiments of any kind—especially sugar or milk; third, the desserts should be simple and not overly elaborate. In short, Renly favored the traditional Chinese tea ceremony when it came to tea.

Philip, upon hearing Renly's brief statement, couldn't help but show a slight helplessness in his eyes, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When Renly had been in London last year, he had seemed drained, weighed down by an unspoken tension that hung in the air like the city's grey weather. Now, Renly seemed more like the person Philip knew.

"The apartment," Renly continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "did your father ask you to clean it, or was it Arthur?"

The question left Philip silent for a moment, but Renly could see the answer coming. He didn't press further.

Renly nodded, understanding. "Actually, my father can attend the unveiling ceremony without worrying about it. Even if I don't give them face, I'll give Eton face and avoid showing up like a beggar. After the unveiling, I'll head straight to Hampshire to work for a while. Wait— is the winter hunt in Hampshire this year?"

The conversation switched from the apartment to the upcoming hunt. During Renly's two attempts, Philip stayed silent. The answer was clear: it was all planned by George Hall, Renly's father. George had known Renly's return would be public knowledge, which meant that after the summer delay of "Fast & Furious 5," the family could no longer hide and had to face the public.

Renly's return was inevitable, and George needed to address it directly, possibly as a warning. It was clear that George had made arrangements to ensure there were no awkward situations for the Hall family, particularly with Renly's public appearance.

The primary filming location for Edge of Tomorrow was in Hampshire, an area known for its quiet countryside, rolling hills, and proximity to the sea. For most, Hampshire was relatively unknown, overshadowed by Southampton and Portsmouth. But for the nobility, Hampshire was famous for the New Forest district—a historical royal hunting ground where the family used to gather annually for hunts. Though the tradition had diminished, it continued to a degree. Each year, the location rotated between different woodlands, depending on the whims of the royal family and other elite families.

When Renly learned that Edge of Tomorrow would be filmed in Hampshire, he hadn't thought much of it. After all, the hunting trend had waned. But upon landing in London that day, and with George's meticulous efforts to cover his itinerary, Renly had a sinking feeling that this was not coincidental.

Philip didn't respond directly but changed the subject, "Your hunting gear is at the Knightsbridge apartment. I've already made an appointment with the tailor to see if any adjustments are necessary."

This was a subtle confirmation of Renly's suspicions.

"When was the hunting ground set for this year? Who chose it?" Renly raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Although I know it sounds a bit arrogant, the timing is too coincidental. George will not be happy about this."

It would be an interesting turn of events if someone deliberately chose Hampshire as the hunting location, knowing it was also where the film was being shot, just to embarrass George or Elizabeth. Renly didn't care much for hunting, but now, the idea seemed almost too good to pass up. It would be a spectacle—one that allowed him to appreciate the noble class's attempts at maintaining a facade of civility, even when they were clearly struggling. The prospect of seeing George and Elizabeth flustered was enticing.

"Master Renly," Philip said with a helpless shake of his head, having caught the gleam of mischief in Renly's eyes.

Renly shrugged nonchalantly. "I promise, I'm not the only one who wants to see the show. Besides, Elf, Edith, and Arthur would probably enjoy it as well. Honestly, Edith coming back to London—could it be for this?" Renly paused. "She wouldn't travel all this way just to support Eton, would she?"

As they spoke, the car slowed to a stop. Through the misty drizzle on the windows, Renly could see the sprawling greenery, the ivory-white colonnades, and the bright moonlight reflecting off the outer walls, casting a soft halo that cut through the gloom.

The car pulled up to the curb, and a waiter with a large black umbrella opened the door for Renly. "Welcome to the Hurlingham Club," he said politely.

Renly stepped out, the waiter shielding him from the drizzle as they walked under the covered entrance. Another waiter inside held open the dark green wooden door, welcoming them inside.

The anteroom was a vision of elegance, with an ivory-white backdrop accented by light gold, crescent white, and various shades of green. The decor evoked a sense of quiet nobility. To the right stood a Victorian-style reception desk, and to the left, a retro sofa set in dark red with golden carvings. Every piece of furniture and design spoke to an era long past.

The Hurlingham Club, a private establishment with over two centuries of history, catered to the highest echelons of society. Many royal family members were members, and its exclusivity made it nearly impossible to join. Membership was capped, and only when a position became vacant could a new member be considered. Even then, the process was rigorous, with potential members needing approval from existing ones.

For Renly, although not a member, he could enter as a relative. However, most areas were off-limits unless escorted by a current member, such as George or Elizabeth.

"Your Excellency Renly," Vincent-Dale, the foreman at the counter, recognized Renly immediately.

Renly smiled and nodded. "Vincent. Is my father here?"

Vincent's smile faltered slightly. "Lord George didn't come today, but His Excellency Arthur is waiting for you."

Not George, but Arthur?

Renly's brow furrowed in slight confusion, but he maintained his composure. "Please, lead the way. Thank you."

Clearly, George had orchestrated everything but was avoiding a direct confrontation with Renly, leaving it to Arthur to handle things. It was a calculated decision to avoid personal confrontation, despite all the arrangements George had made. Family loyalty or avoidance—it was hard to say, but Renly felt the cold distance in his father's choices.

They passed through a white glass door and into a hall bathed in dark red tones. Aristocrats were scattered around, enjoying their afternoon tea in private booths. And then Renly spotted Arthur.