The Greatest Showman #987 - So-Called Network

Richard de Vere was born into the family of the Earl of Oxford, England. The title of Earl of Oxford is part of one of England's most ancient noble titles, its history stretching back to the thirteenth century. The family's archives are both extensive and revered, and its relationship with the British royal family is incredibly close. Throughout many crucial battles and conflicts, they were steadfast royalists, contributing greatly to the crown. Their status remains high, even in the present day.

The 17th Earl of Oxford founded the Oxford Man Company, a troupe that flourished in the early 17th century. It is often speculated that Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl, may have been the true author behind Shakespeare's plays, in addition to being Shakespeare himself.

However, after the title passed through various hands, the title of Earl of Oxford was inherited by British Prime Minister Herbert Henry Asquith in 1925, eventually transitioning to the family line of the Marquis of Dublin. Although the Marquis is a higher rank than Earl, the title of Marquis of Dublin is now more symbolic than practical, offering little in terms of actual power or land.

Despite this, the Marquis of Richard de Vere remains one of the most prominent figures in London's upper class, maintaining close ties with the royal family. His wealth and social standing are unparalleled. Even in the 21st century, Richard can live comfortably, relying on the financial support and influence of his family's legacy.

George had been trying to get in touch with Richard for several months. Richard had recently fired his trust fund manager after expressing dissatisfaction with the manager's work and results. George, eager to secure Richard as a client at Barclays, wanted to step in and take over as his fund manager.

It wasn't just George, though. Other competitors were also vying for Richard's business, and George had poured immense time and energy into gaining his trust. Richard, however, was a peculiar and elusive individual, making it incredibly difficult to even pin down his location, let alone arrange a meeting. Even with connections through Arthur, George found it nearly impossible to get in touch.

Then, one day, George received a call from Richard's housekeeper to schedule a meeting for the afternoon. This call was a breakthrough. After months of effort, George had finally made it to this crucial first step. The possibilities now seemed endless.

However, when they met, it was not exactly what George had imagined.

As he watched Richard smile, George's eyes narrowed, and although his expression remained composed, there was a deep bitterness in his heart. He could hardly believe that they hadn't even gotten the chance to talk properly. The situation was awkward, and George could feel the tension building. How could he forget Richard's eccentric preferences?

It's worth noting that Richard inherited his ancestor's passion for drama. The 17th Earl of Oxford had an insatiable love for the theater, particularly plays in London's West End. Richard himself had visited numerous theaters in London, Stockholm, and Boston, seeking out critically acclaimed productions. This love for drama wasn't a secret among the aristocracy. In fact, Richard had been traveling throughout Europe for the past few months, following the theater circuit with unpredictable and erratic movements.

Not hearing George's response, Richard leaned back in his chair, adjusting his position nonchalantly, and said, "Still thinking about it? Does Renly Hall, your youngest son, still come up as a touchy subject?"

It wasn't that Richard didn't know the history between George and Renly, but rather that he simply didn't care. For Richard, some aristocratic conventions mattered, but others did not.

"Forget Les Miserables, though, have you heard? The production has received rave reviews! Alistair Smith, for instance—he's notoriously hard to please. But even he's watched it three times and has given it full praise. Unbelievable, right?" Richard continued to babble as the waiter brought over their drinks. "I just got back from Casablanca, you know. It's warm and lovely there, but coming back to London—it's always a bit of a shock. I miss the sun already."

A silence settled in the air as Richard sipped his brandy, sighing in contentment.

George knew it was time to speak. "London is a city that's both distasteful and yet full of nostalgia." He forced a smile. "And the West End, of course—who could resist? Casablanca certainly doesn't have anything like it."

Internally, George's muscles tightened, and his heart sank, but he maintained his poise. The world of the aristocracy was a double-edged sword. Connections like his could help him destroy Renly's career, but they also bound him in a constant web of obligations. To enjoy the privileges that came with aristocratic ties, he had to endure the restrictions that accompanied them.

Richard laughed heartily. "You've got that right."

Sensing an opportunity, George decided to take the initiative. "I hear the Almeida Theater's production of Les Miserables has been a hot topic lately. What do you think, my lord? Would you like to attend?"

George had little choice. He had to go along with Richard's whims if he wanted to win him over.

"Absolutely!" Richard's face lit up with excitement, and he clapped his hands. "Let's go now!"

"Now?" George was caught off guard. Richard's impulsiveness was alarming. In aristocratic circles, spontaneous actions like this were usually avoided, but Richard didn't seem to care.

"Why wait? The Almeida is just 20 minutes away. We can grab a bite and chat, and who knows, maybe we'll even meet the actors afterward!" Richard didn't wait for George to respond. He signaled to the waiter. "My coat and hat, please."

"Lord, wait!" George couldn't hide his panic.

Richard paused, raising an eyebrow. "By the way, your box is still reserved, right? I heard that one belongs to the Hall family?"

The Almeida Theater only had six exclusive aristocratic boxes, and the Hall family held one of them. George, aware of the importance of these boxes, knew how crucial it was to secure one for their visit. The competition for these boxes was fierce, as they allowed the aristocracy to control social events for months.

George, frustrated and feeling trapped, had no choice but to comply. "Of course. But I need to inform Arthur first. It would be disrespectful to just show up without confirming."

Richard didn't seem concerned. "Go ahead. Maybe we'll join whoever else is in the box today. It could be fun!"

George knew what Richard meant. Even if the box was occupied, Richard would demand to go. As one of London's most notorious figures, his behavior wasn't surprising—just another act in the performance of aristocratic life.

"Of course. It's an honor." George clenched his teeth and called Arthur. "The Marquis of Dublin and I are heading to the Almeida Theater. Whoever has the box, tell them to clear it. We'll be there shortly."

After hanging up, George tried to maintain his composure. Less than two minutes later, he received a text message: George and the Marquis of Dublin are heading to the Almeida Theatre.

"Dammit."