🪶 A GO Regency AU - Rated E - for @addledmongoose via @fandomtrumpshate
🪞 Chapter 8 of 11 - “The Letter” (8.5k)
🎩 Completely written (around 80k in total) | Updates every Wednesday | Fake/Pretend Relationship | There Was Only One Bed
💜 Beta: the one and only @beerok23
1811. Returned to London after the death of his father, infamous rake Anthony ‘Crowley’, Duke of Morningstar, has three months to restore his tattered reputation and secure himself a proper match, on pain of having his title stripped from him. Enter the irreproachable Lord Aziraphale, newly minted Viscount Eastgate, who would very much like to discourage his many suitors from lining outside his door in Mayfair so he can go back to enjoying his peaceful existence on the shelf. After a chance meeting at a gentlemen’s club, it appears the two may lend each other a helping hand after all. While a fake engagement will not solve their problems once and for all, it should buy them enough time to put their respective affairs in order. If only the ultimate goal of their Arrangement would remain as clear and unchanging as it should…
In which we visit Morningstar Hall, make new encounters and uncover even more secrets.
🪶Or Start From The Beginning 🪶
Excerpt from Chapter 8 - “The Letter”:
“You should check your things are all accounted for,” Crowley said as he rummaged through his stuff, possibly heeding his own advice. “The Furfurs are not known for their ability to keep their hands to themselves.”
“Are those not the same people that manage the estate?” Aziraphale asked while absent-mindedly skimming the documents in his hands. He could not help but recognise them as the same sort of soul-sucking nonsense he had to take care of under Mr Glozier’s guidance.
“Yes, though one could argue they are not really managing anything. What are you doing?”
Aziraphale, who had finished collecting the loose papers, glanced up from the ledger he was now examining. “Crowley, these numbers are all over the place.”
“I told you, the estate is in ruin–”
“No, what I mean is that they do not make any sense, like they have been recorded here at random.” He cracked open another and found it in much the same conditions. “This one too.”
Mathematics was the last thing Aziraphale usually liked to concern himself with, but having had it forced upon him in regards to managing Eden Abbey, he had reluctantly picked up a few things, and it was pretty clear to him that whoever was behind these ledgers either had no idea what they were doing or they did and were trying to hide something.
Crowley sidled up to him. “Perhaps they don’t. What about it?”
Aziraphale frowned. “What about it?” he asked, confused. “Crowley, there is a limit to the amount of stealing the help is supposed to get away with.”
“Wot?”
“Well, a little theft here and there is to be expected. I usually turn a blind eye to those, but I cannot abide stealing when other people’s livelihoods are at stake, and neither should you,” he insisted, surprised by how strongly he felt about the entire matter considering how annoying running his estate was. His own reaction gave him pause, spurring him to wonder whether he had not fully realised the consequences of his duties up until this very moment. People did depend on him.
Crowley took off his glasses to stare at him. “Are you saying you let your staff steal from you?”
“Of course,” Aziraphale replied matter-of-factly, “though nothing of consequence, like a book or a snuff box.” Then, thoroughly convinced Crowley was not giving this the attention it deserved, he pressed on, “How many tenants do you have?”
“Er, hundred and fifty? Hundred and seventy?”
Aziraphale gasped in outrage. That was three times the tenants he had at Eden Abbey! “And you are letting two people you cannot even trust with your clothes manage the whole thing?”
Many thanks to @addledmongoose for choosing me at this year's @fandomtrumpshate and letting me play with these two for a good cause💜
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