Nuptials of a nephew- Part 1
Jun. 6th, 2019 05:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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give_satisfactionSo, this is a fill for the wedding prompt (https://give-satisfaction.dreamwidth.org/2406.html?thread=185958#cmt185958) which was made in the kinkiness thread, but as it‘s quite long, I was asked to make a separate post for it. This is the first part, a second one will follow.
Oh and I made quite an embarrassing mistake in the first version, thank you to the one who pointed it out.
„A wedding‘s rather spiffing, isn‘t it, Jeeves?“
“If you say so, sir.“
Oh and I made quite an embarrassing mistake in the first version, thank you to the one who pointed it out.
„A wedding‘s rather spiffing, isn‘t it, Jeeves?“
“If you say so, sir.“
Re: Fill- Part 1
Date: 2019-06-06 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-06-05 11:13 pm (UTC)"AppleCare"?
no subject
Date: 2019-06-06 03:45 am (UTC)ETA: Changed it. Sorry for making such a mess😳
Fill- Part 1
Date: 2019-06-06 03:53 am (UTC)But, nevertheless, I love him dearly; not only because he is my late elder brother’s only son, but also because Bertram has a heart made of at least three ounces of the finest Indian gold. I try not to let it show too much, though, lest it gets into his head. When he gets himself into rummy circs. Again however, I will always be there for him.
And that is exactly why early last morning, I found myself deep inside the wilderness of Northern Yorkshire, without my husband Tom of course, but therefore accompanied by my lady’s maid Mollins, my underbutler, two footmen and my cook Anatole, because naturally the wedding breakfast would have to be absolutely top notch.
Oh, what wedding you’re wondering, right? Dash it, I am no better than Bertie, always blundering into the middle of a story! All right, let me explain to you the circs. Which led to Dahlia Travers and her stuff being stranded in the core of the Yorkshirian nowhere on a fine morning in early May.
I have already told you about my nephew Bertie, haven’t I? Well, over the last few years I have watched with no little amusement how my sister Agatha flung an endless row of young and willing females at him with increasing acrimony and how his rather brilliant man, Jeeves, defended his master’s bachelorhood with equal force.
I’ve never participated in Agatha’s endeavours, because ever since the time my nephew was eight and presented me a fistful of roses he had plucked with the proudest smile, I knew that our Bertram is not one for the fillies of this country, if you understand.
So it wasn’t much of a surprise to his “aged relative” when I found him and his aforementioned manservant in the dinner-room at Brinkley, positively melting into each other. I was more pleased to see that the boy had for once made a sensible choice by picking such a genius to love.
He had assured me that this had been the first and only time they’d kissed, because even though Bertie may be not a women’s man, he still believes in the honour and importance of matrimony, and he wouldn’t even give Jeeves as much as a hand-shake before they were properly married.
The proposal itself was a quick enough business; I sent the chap into my drawing-room where Bertie waited with a bunch of (self-plucked) peonies and he went down on a knee to pop the q.
I say, Jeeves needed at least three days to regain his usual composure.
Oh, and if you’re arguing now that two birds are allowed to be married by law, I’ll shout a hearty „Dash the law!“ If my nephew, who has helped so many of his friends and relatives (incl. me) out of pure kindness of the heart, if this nephew wants to be united with the love of his life in marriage then he bloody well will be!
After all, these sort of things are not impossible, you know.You only have to find a vicar who is old or corrupt enough not to remember the whole business the next morning, and a house that is isolated enough to hide the festivities from prying eyes.
So there I stood in front of the country house my twit of a nephew had rented for the weekend, and when Jeeves finally opened the door, I could tell from his expression that things weren’t going just as he’d have liked them to go. „Oh, Jeeves!“ I cried. „Or shouldn’t I call you sth. else now, what with you being my nephew-in-law soon and all?“
„I don’t know if that would be entirely appropriate, ma’am“ he answered with the usual eyebrow.
„All right“ I said, wondering how “appropriate” it would be for him to shaghis master— oh, pardon my French.
As soon as I had entered the entrance hall, I could see- or rather hear- the reason for Jeeves’s earlier unhappy expression. Apparently Bertie’s idiotic young pals from this loony club of his had already arrived and were now engaging in a game— the rules of which were elusive, I could only see that it required a lot of shouting and a number of toothbrushes.
Bertie had of course invited his closest friends to his wedding, most of whom had done their own share of manhandling in school anyway and therefore not very sensitive about the topic. I supposed they would be drunk enough to forget the whole thing anyway.
„Ah, so the young people have already gathered around, haven’t they? Splendid.“
„Indeed, ma’am“ Jeeves answered, though his pained expression at a particularly loud cry from…Richard Little, I think, showed that he didn’t find that quite as splendid. „Only Mr Biffen and his wife, my niece, haven’t arrived yet. It seems that he has forgotten the name of the estate and travelled to Surrey, from where Mrs Biffen has sent a telegram.“ Typical for young Biffy, that is. „If I might show you to your room, ma’am.“
„You might, Jeeves, but dash the „ma’am“, please. You’re going to be family soon, after all.“
„Very well, ma… Mrs Travers.“
-„-„
Later that evening there was dinner, a first sample of what we were to expect from Anatole the next day, and Biffy and his wife arrived around nine. I could sense that Jeeves felt rather uncomfortable, sitting at the dinner table with Bertie and the guests instead of attending to them; particularly because he is good friends with my footman Charles, who had to serve. Bertie must have seen it too, because after the fish he stood up and, after fending off a shower of bread rolls, announced:
„Right ho, no more of this „feudal spirit“ nonsense. I think that this whole business is a bit against the rules of proper society anyway, so we might as well upset the apple cart properly, what? Please“ and he gestured towards the footmen and my underbutler „sit down and eat with us. This weekend is for love and friendship and comri—comradewhatsit!“
I could hear Jeeves muttering „Comradeship“ under his breath, but he was drowned out by the cheers and clapping of the young men who patted my utterly bewildered servants on the shoulders and dragged each of them to chairs.
„But, ma’am!“ Charles cried in a soupy tone, however I just looked at him with my best „I pay you for this, so you’d better enjoy it“- expression. It seemed to work, because just minutes later everyone was chatting amiably.
It’s funny how the world works. All my life, from the little girl to the wife and mother I am now, everything I learned and did was based on one principle: that I was better, more precious than the other ones. I was taught that this is the natural way of things, that I deserved living in a grand house, going to an excellent school and spending my leisure time with hunting and dancing, just as the girls downstairs deserved to scrub the floors and prepare my meals.
But now I wonder; if two people falling in love is all it needs to break the system down, to let master’s and servants gather around one table, how natural, how solid was it in the first place?
I wonder.
Re: Fill- Part 1
Date: 2019-06-06 09:39 am (UTC)I can't wait for part 2!
Re: Fill- Part 1
Date: 2019-06-10 06:45 pm (UTC)Love this!