Belonging To The Earl

13.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Jordon sighed heavily as he slid the cup of brandy to his brother. 

"You’re being obstinate," he declared, pouring himself a sliver as well. "I was of the impression that this was a settled matter already."

Jason downed the drink in one gulp before beckoning for another. 

"We never had time to discuss it," he said. "You merely brushed the matter under the rug, assuming that I would simply go ahead with your plan."

They were sitting in the drawing room, with a low fire burning in the grate. Jason had his coat draped across the back of the chair upon which he sat. His evening had been anything but pleasant. Memories of the abysmal evening at the Thorntons still haunted him, and he was in no rush to reminisce about the evening. 

Especially now, with Jordon breathing down his neck about the state of the finances which the previous Lord Brighton had left his estate in. 

"If this ruse of ours is going to work," Jordon said over his glass, "then you will need to be fully settled into the role. You cannot possibly hope to become the Earl of Brighton in actuality if you are not aware of your own affairs."

"I’ve never been particularly gifted when it comes to finances," Jason replied. In truth, he had only ever had to worry about the state of his pocket, which was the only estate he owned for a very long time. But now, having to deal with the prospect of supervising the state of Brighton house in London, Brighton (no House, no Castle, just Brighton), up in Glasgow. Brighton Hall, Brighton Abbey and also having to supervise the affairs of at least a hundred staff spread out across all the locations. As Jordon listed them off with each finger, Jason wondered how the previous Earl had gotten along. It certainly couldn’t be him, and he couldn’t imagine himself poring over ledgers and journals and different bank statements. It all seemed too tiresome. 

"Why can’t you do it?" he asked Jordon, who was fingering the rim of his glass slowly. 

"I beg your pardon? Jordon absentmindedly. 

"Why can’t you handle the finances?" Jason repeated. "You’ve grown up learning all these things after all. You should be a natural at them. I expect you’re quite good at it as well, given how you’ve managed to not go bankrupt yet."

"But I won’t be the Earl," Jordon replied. "The responsibility of the estate comes with the title. I can’t imagine how you plan on carrying out this disguise for the rest of your life if you will not familiarize yourself with the intricate details of running the estate."

Jason hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he would remain the Earl for the rest of his life if things went according to plan. In truth, he partially looked at it like something insignificant, a play between children who were waiting for the adults to discover them. He supposed sooner or later the truth would have to come out, but for now there was something invigorating and quite frankly, exhilarating about the thought of fooling an entire city. London wouldn’t be able to withstand the enormity of their ruse once it came into light. The gossips would lose their minds, and everyone in the city would be buzzing for weeks; months, even. 

But that was beside the fact. If they could help it, then nothing should ever be revealed. It would remain as it were, with Jordon heading off with Alyssa to live in some paradise of their own making, while Jason would remain here, alone in a dark room with volumes of papers piled in front of him. 

Except perhaps if fortune smiled on him and sent the enchanting masked lady his way once again. 

A knock on the door drew both their attention, and the butler stepped in with an amused and slightly astonished expression on his face. 

"My Lords," he said, bowing. "It would appear you have visitors."

"At this hour of the night?" Jordon asked, stealing a quick glance at the clock which hung above the fireplace. "Who is it?"

"Sirs Anthony and Charles," he replied, the corner of his lips twitching. "If you wish, I can inform them that you’ve retired for the night. But they do seem in previous need of your audience."

"Send them in," Jordon said. "God forbid I should turn away my friends when they come knocking at my doorstep."

"It won’t be your doorstep for much longer," Jason replied with a snigger as the butler turned around to leave. 

Jordon chuckled, settling into his seat after reaching for two more glasses from the cabinet beside him. Knowing the type of men Anthony and Charles were, they would need a drink or two before they departed. 

"There you are!" Charles barked as soon as they stepped into the room. "Thank goodness you haven’t retired so quickly."

He paused however, same as Anthony when they saw Jason seated across from his brother. It took them a while before they remembered the surprising incident that occurred the last time they were in the company of their friend. 

"I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that there are two of you now, Brighton," Anthony said, laughing. "Which one of you is the Earl, if I may ask?"

To that, both men pointed to the other. Charles looked like he had seen a ghost, his eyes shifting between the two quickly as he tried to detect any dissimilarity between them. In the dimming light however, it was impossible to tell which was which. 

"For heaven’s sake," he swore loudly, "just settle the matter amongst yourselves and tell us which one is the Earl."

"That is precisely the matter we have been trying to settle,” Jordon said as he rose from his seat and poured the men a glass each. "What brings you here so late at night?"

"A bit of an emergency," Anthony replied as he took the glass with a smile and a mutter of thanks. "We were wondering if we could make use of your carriage for the evening. That is, assuming that you are the Earl of Brighton and not the brother."

Jordon couldn’t contain his laughter. Jason meanwhile was studying them carefully over the top of his glass. 

"Well," Jordon said after his hearty laughter, "since the last time we spoke, I was still the Earl of Brighton. But since you and Charles here left, my brother and I have reached an agreement with regards to the title and the estate."

"What are you talking about?" he asked. 

Jason motioned to the settee behind them. "You might want to have a seat for this," he gestured.

Fifteen minutes later, after Jordon had finished explaining their plan fully to both of them, the looks of confusion on their faces were identical. Anthony’s jaw was practically on the floor, while Charles looked at them both like they’d lost their minds. 

"It’s an excellent plan when you think of it," Jordon finished. "We both get what we want, and no one is the wiser to what has happened."

"God above, have you lost your mind?" Charles exclaimed when he finished. "Please tell me you’re joking."

"It’s really not a joke," Jason said. "We are yet to finish working on the finer details, but once that’s done, then I can assume my role fully."

"And all this, just for a pretty widow?" he spluttered, still struggling to wrap his head around what he’d just heard. "The bloody wench shouldn’t even have gotten involved with her stepson in the first place, and now you plan on giving away the title for her?"

Jordon’s eyes darkened immediately, and his shoulders squared as he stared down at Charles. 

"I will not tolerate anymore insults on Alyssa’s person," he gritted. "You will respect her as long as you are under my roof."

"Well the bloody roof won’t be yours for much longer if this goes on," Anthony intervened. "I mean honestly, don’t you realize how terribly this could go? What if the ton were to discover what both of you have done? You would be scandalized for life. I don’t think it will be possible to recover from a scandal of that nature. And you could very well lose the title in the process. Is it really worth it?"

"They won’t find out if we stick to our roles," Jordon said. "Look, both of you are my closest friends and companions in crime. I have only shared this information with you because I believe we might need your help at some point in the future. It’s for the best, and I simply need you to trust me on this. What you decide to do is entirely up to you of course."

Anthony turned to look at Jason. 

"And you’ve agreed to this?" he asked. 

"It’s for the best," he replied, lowering his gaze. "We would be helping each other out, besides, I am the eldest and since I wasn't opportuned to grow up with him, I want to do something for him. And who knows, it might not have to be for too long."

"I still need some time to process all this," Charles said. "In the meantime however, we have more pressing matters in our hands. Can we have the carriage or not?"

"Knock yourself out," Jordon replied. Charles merely nodded once he approved, and with a hasty goodbye, both he and Anthony left the room. 

"What do you make of this?" the latter asked as they descended the stairs. 

"I think they’ve lost their minds," Charles replied. "And this will surely backfire on them. But I will not be around to watch that happen. And when it does happen-which it will-eventually, they will remember I told them that."