Jeffrey shrugged, exasperated. What was he going to do with this brother of his? “You’re not going to ask me what I wanted to talk about?”
“…Should I? I would imagine you’re more interested in hearing what I have to say.”
Jeffrey took a sip of his tea. “Admittedly, yes. But if you know that, get on with it already. Spit it out.”
Calmly watching the clouds cross the sky, Henry eventually said, “You know, I always wanted to be your brother.”
“I don’t follow.”
“…I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“But I think I get what you’re trying to say.”
Henry met Jeffrey’s eye with a smile. “This is quite some time ago now, but I once felt like a plum in a basket of two apples. Yes, a dirty, bruised plum next to a pair of shining apples. If only you or Richard could have been the earl, I thought. I wasn’t good enough for the role. Even as a small child, this complex consumed me. I envied you both until I couldn’t tell the difference between jealousy for you and hatred for myself. That was how I fell ill. Eventually, I recovered, and next thing I knew, I was the earl.”
“Keep going.”
“Thank you. I shall.”
With one graceful gesture, Henry took a sip of his tea and resumed his quiet monologue. His voice was soft, but Jeffrey could sense the steel it took to bare the tender red flesh of Henry’s heart. It made him shiver.
“Now that I’ve stepped into my new role, I’ve come to the realization that there was never much point to that jealousy or hatred. Being an earl has nothing to do with talent. Anyone could be an earl. This position is simply a matter of birth, no different than a birthday. These days, it’s not the sort of role that will send me off on a horse to fight the French, eh? Nevertheless, that phantom apparition from childhood has haunted me all my life. I was convinced that the title of earl was something special, and, in some sense, I suppose I was right.”
“I guess. There aren’t too many earls out there, when it comes down to it.”
“No, there aren’t. I mean also in the sense that it is my duty to support the Claremont family.”
“I can handle that part just fine.”
“More than financially, Jeffrey.”
The stern tone in Henry’s voice made Jeffrey’s eyes widen slightly. Once again, the birdsong from the woodlands washed over the brothers in the ensuing silence. Clouds cast light shadows over the grassy park at the woodlands’ edge.
Henry’s eyes never left Jeffrey’s. “Now that I have become earl, I have only two options left to me. One, I forsake the responsibility now resting on my shoulders. Two, I choose to take up my burden.”
Jeffrey said nothing.
“That is all I had to say.”
The birdsong stopped. As quiet filled the verdant quadrangle, a breeze blew through without disturbing the silence.
Eventually, Jeffrey clapped lightly. “Well, look at you. You’ve conquered your old demons, and kudos to you. But don’t you think what you’re saying and what you’re doing are two different things?”
“Indeed, they are.”
“You’re not going to apologize?”
“…I can offer you an apology if you’ll allow me to be insincere about it. But I will not flip a metaphorical hourglass and let everything return to how it was.”
“What do you mean?” Jeffrey asked, his tone light and teasing. The question didn’t need to be asked, but he just wanted to make sure.
Henry gave him a tired smile and a long look. “I hope you’ll never forgive me for so long as I live.”
“…Hmm. But you’ll protect me?”
“But of course I will. Whatever trouble you manage to get yourself into, whatever problems you cause, I’ll find a way to free you from all of them. I will do my best to remove every obstacle in your path without you ever noticing. What’s done is done, Jeffrey, and I cannot take back nor make up for what I’ve done to you. It was idiotic and irreversible to expose your secret…just as it was to cling to the childish notion that you had to choose between Richard and me.”
Jeffrey almost wanted to tell Henry he didn’t care about it anymore but stopped himself. He knew Henry didn’t want to be shaken from his conviction, and besides, he doubted his words would make a difference. Instead he employed his favorite facial expression: the one and only cruel smile.
“Even if you tell me that, I’ll never forgive you.”
“…I see.”
“Nope. No forgiveness here.”
“Very well.”
Henry sighed, pleased with that answer, and nodded. Oh, for the love of Pete, Jeffrey groaned inwardly, but he continued on with that same evil grin. “You can feel sorry all you want, but it doesn’t undo any of the pain I felt. Nothing you do will make a difference. From now on, I’m going to be downright nasty. I’m going to say all the things I’ve been too nice to say for years.”
“By all means. I would like to hear them.”
“If you insist. First off, learn the difference between Twitter and Instagram instead of wasting money hiring hackers. It’s the twenty-first century! Act like it! I know you stream music online, so you can’t be that clueless.”
“A younger friend of mine introduced me to the platform, and I’ve managed since…”
“‘Managed,’ he says. Fine, good for you. It was still dangerous. Next time you run into a problem you can’t solve without throwing money at a stranger, call me first. Got it? Good. Remember, I still won’t forgive you.”
“Of course.”
“And I won’t forgive you for inviting my boyfriend to dinner without telling me. He says he was so nervous he almost died! I demand an invitation next time. Boy, my throat’s dry from all this talking. Can someone bring us more tea?”
“Let me call for a maid.”
Henry rang the bell on the table, a well-practiced gesture, and smiled. Jeffrey’s cheeks were tiring of his own sinister grin. He massaged the life back into them, then in a voice lower than the wind whistling over the lawn, he whispered, “Harry.”
“Yes?”
Henry turned, and Jeffrey shook his head.
“It’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name and see if you’d answer.”
“…Thank you, Jeff.”
“I’ve done nothing worth thanking you for,” Jeffrey lied. Then he shrugged, took his time enjoying his fresh cup, and stood up.
“Are you leaving already?”
“Mm-hmm. I seem to recall my dear older brother giving me the okay to take as long of a leave from work as I want. The Americans back home will be shocked. They thought I was taking a sudden leave of absence for illness, and it turns out I was meeting an earl for business.”
“A sort of public debut for the new earl, perhaps. What lucky timing.”
“Yeah, luck is one word for it.”
“How are things with you and…? Well. Pleasant, I hope?”
Henry’s question made Jeffrey smile with embarrassment. “I’m not sure how to describe it…but, well, it’s relaxing.”
“That is all we can ever ask for. Please give him my regards.”
“I’m not giving him nothin’.”
“A shame.”
“You tell him yourself. You have a hotline right to him.”
Already turning away, Jeffrey stepped into the house and departed with a final wave thrown over his shoulder. He walked slowly over the carpet, out toward the front door, exchanging greetings with the new serving staff as he went.
The famous hilly English countryside stretched out before him under an unbroken expanse of blue. Far, far to the south across the Strait of Dover lay another land—a land of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
“…Well, it’s about time to head home,” Jeffrey said.
Home, to Jeffrey, was a hotel in downtown Paris, a treasure chest of a residence in the line of jewelry shops on the Place Vendôme. He sent off a quick text, I’m on my way home, and his obsessively fast responder of a partner sent a kiss emoji back. Joachim must have been in a good mood.
Funny how that alone could make Jeffrey feel so warm inside.