Chapter Text
I have gotten, if it’s not too forthright to say, quite good at reading my man Jeeves over the years. Jeeves is a mysterious sort of chap and generally expresses his emotions with minimal facial activity and, well, expression, apart from the usual sass and “hoity-toitiness”, (if hoity-toitiness is indeed the correct word) no amount of feudality could entirely erase. I can read Jeeves… well not like a book, I suppose, but more like a spot-the-difference game. Nothing is perfectly apparent with that man, nor is he easy to understand but it was how it differed from his usual, content, Jeevesian self that gave his mood away.
This particular mood proved to be uniquely sour, of which I took immediate notice upon being awoken by my valet one morning. Jeeves drifted into the room soundlessly, or what I imagined was soundless, as the man is always light on his feet. His voice was hollow, I picked up on its iciness immediately, sent a shiver down the old spine, the man’s gaze was grim and his posture even more rigid than usual, which is no small feat, as the man’s stance could put an army general to shame!
“Good morning, sir.” Jeeves said coldly as he stood with the morning’s tea and breakfast. I felt a chill go down my arms, my skin turned to gooseflesh and clouds seemed to darken the sky. I wrapped my blanket around my shoulders and made a grand gesture of shuddering.
“I must say, Jeeves, it certainly doesn’t seem so. Something amiss my good man?” I asked him, taking the warm cup of tea in one hand, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with the other. The man stalled, clearing his throat.
“No, sir.” he spoke after a tense silence that only added to that shivering feeling mentioned above.
“Oh, balderdash, Jeeves, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” I replied, quickly glancing at the small volume of scary stories at my bedside I had been reading the previous P.M. My man fell silent once more.
“It would be unbecoming and unprofessional to discuss it any further, sir.” was his response, and an unfeeling one at that, entirely unconvincing as well.
“Jeeves, it’s clearly bothering you, your skin is positively ashen, and as my fri- as my valet, what troubles you troubles the young master as well. I say out with it!” I huffed with a prideful sort of whatsit to cover up the small knot in my chest as I stood up and tied my robe around my waist. I made my way into the sitting room, sure that Jeeves would be quick to follow. “Speak your mind, I must insist!” I insisted.
Jeeves took to the seat in front of where I lay on the sofa, which alarmed me slightly as the man had been awfully reticent to do so in the past (there was a particular incident wherein I offered him tea, the man’s reaction had been glacial enough to ensure one Bertram W. W. would never suggest anything of the sort ever again). Jeeves hesitated still.
“I have received a letter, sir, on behalf of my Aunt.” he started in the voice of one delivering the most gutting of news.
“Alright then, who hasn’t… do continue.” furrowing my brow as I took in the man’s words and his overall Jeevesian state of anguish.
“She has made it… abundantly clear over the past years that I must marry-”
“Oh, say no more!” I exclaimed, rather rudely cutting off the man, having been in an identical situation from my 17th birthday to the present day. “That is to say, carry on…”
“In her letter, she goes into some considerable detail about a charming young woman, the daughter of an important textile manufacturer, who she is most intent on my betrothal to, sir.” he continued with a bleak sort of factuality.
“And you’re… well you don’t seem terribly enthused about these nuptials, if you don’t mind my saying…” I prodded him for more. The man was, characteristically so, quite hesitant to disclose his feelings on the matter, and it was not uncommon for me to misinterpret.
“Indeed, sir.” he replied with a grim tone of voice, back perfectly straight against the chair. I absently wondered how he kept up that posture.
“And you’d like, if possible, to avoid this marriage altogether, am I correct?”
“I cannot envisage another alternative than to marry, sir. She is of considerable wealth herself, but her father wishes her to wed a man of the working class in an attempt to teach her some ahem humility, as my Aunt described it…” said my man with all the stoicism one could manage under the circs.
“But do you, Jeeves, have any interest in marrying this woman, familial obligation and all that dashed… dashed-ness aside?” I asked again, pushing for an answer with a poorly concealed desperation. I must admit, I had an ulterior motive in stopping this wedding than my man’s ease of mind… not that such things were of no importance to me, but you see I, Bertram, was quite taken with Jeeves myself. The pause grew uncomfortable after several moments, I felt my forehead grow damp “Well, I suppose that’s unfair to say, you haven’t met the girl-”
“No, sir, I do not believe it likely by any means that a reciprocated interest could transpire.”
“Oh, what rot, Jeeves, who wouldn’t leap at a chance with a man like you, with all your bally… Jeevesness…” I finished weakly, suddenly both very aware and very warm having spoken a truth so painfully honest. My cheeks must have been absolutely glowing like the blasted Sun itself with embarrassment.
“That is most kind of you, sir.” Jeeves replied with one of his imperceptible smiles, more of an upward twitch of the lips. “However, I meant to say that I am quite skeptical of any attraction on my behalf. I apologize for the confusion, sir.” he clarified. We sat in silence as I processed the new information, 101 burning questions running through my mind, causing all kinds of chaos, all of them much too personal and much too telling of my own feelings to ask. ‘Whatever do you mean by skeptical, you haven’t even spoken to her! Is it because she’s upper crust, is it because she’s vain, is it because she’s a woman? Do you mean to say that you may have an interest in men? That you could have an interest in me-’.
“Sir?” he repeated to my visibly distracted self, bringing my runaway train of thought to a screeching halt.
“Oh, I apologize Jeeves, I must still be waking up. Just trying to wrap the Wooster B., brain, that is, around this conundrum.” I made a motion for the man to repeat himself.
“My aunt wishes for me to come to her home at the earliest convenience, sir. She lives on quite a large property. She married a wealthy foreign gentleman when I was a young man and the pair purchased the estate together shortly after I finished school.”
“And we can’t simply… postpone indefinitely? I don’t mean to offend, hardly, I mean to say… you could be… sick?” I offered.
“No, sir, I could not be untruthful to her in good conscience.” spoke my most honest and kind-hearted man.
“You’re a good man, Jeeves.” I told him, echoing the sentiment above. I crossed my arms and made it clear in my posture that I was positively stumped on the matter. “Well in that case, we’d best get to packing, I’m sure we could arrive by tomorrow evening if we departed in the A.M.” I sighed, somewhat resigned to losing my Jeeves to this… textile heiress. “That is to say if it suits you.”
“Indeed, sir, I shall make the necessary preparations.” Jeeves spoke in an empty tone not unlike the way I felt.