Fic: Unspoken Words chapter 5 part 1
Aug. 23rd, 2010 04:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Unspoken Words
Author: Emerald
Rating:Mature.
Disclaimer: Wodehouse owns Jeeves and Wooster.
Warnings: Implied slash. Angst.
Beta: jestana Thank you for the careful beta'ing!
Thank you to ironicbees for sharing her thoughts concerning this story.
The new chapter 5 of a Rift in the Lute is here: emeraldreeve.livejournal.com/
It was not a habit of Bertram Wooster's to arise with the sun and that morning was no exception. It was the opposite of an exception; if something can be said to be the opposite of an exception. After all the thinking and pondering and puzzling of the night before, I slept in quite late. I had sipped half a cup of the hot and steaming and started on the eggs when the peepers noticed the envelope that had been placed on my breakfast tray.
I greeted it with a sigh. I had enough of working the old lemon last night and did not want anything that tried the noggin to deal with today. Hoping it was just a friendly note from a chum, I carelessly opened the envelope. A person could have knocked me over with plumage when several pound notes fell out. I dumped the lettuce out onto the tray and stared at it. I shifted through it and idly counted it. There was something oddly familiar about the amount. I glanced at the envelope, trying to decipher why someone had sent me clams, and Jeeves' name greeted the blinkers. Suddenly the lemon supplied the reason for the amount seeming familiar: this was my man's wages for two weeks.
I frowned and attempted to find an explanation for why Jeeves would send me his earnings. Perhaps, I thought, my solicitor had bunged up the matter by sending me the money instead of giving it to Jeeves.
I had a bite of the eggs and saw the telegram that had been resting under the money. Ah, I thought, maybe the answer to the mystery is within. As the wrigglers settled on it, a sudden thought came to me that struck the ticker with fear. What if Jeeves had decided to leave me, after all? For a moment, fright run rampant through the frame and then the ticker began to object. Jeeves had promised himself to me; had stated that he would never leave my side. It was time for his spouse to put a little faith into his man's words.
I took a calming breath and refused to allow myself to read the telegram until trust reigned within my heart. Once I had read the contents, I made a grimace at the mystifying eggs. One mystery had been solved but now I had been given another puzzle. Jeeves had sent an apology for ruining my jacket. The money was an instalment to pay me for the loss. On the surface, it seemed a simple matter. An apology is not difficult to understand. It wasn't a simple matter, however, because I knew Jeeves was not sorry about the jacket.
I was tempted to dismiss the apology as dishonesty from my valet except that I could see no reason for him to lie about it. It was painfully obvious that Jeeves did not regret destroying my unlucky jacket. Yet he had sent two weeks' wages to pay for it.
I addressed the eggs. “I'm going to have to strain the bean again today.”
While I finished breakfast I did just that; strain the bean, I mean. Why would Jeeves say he was sorry for something he didn't regret? Why lie when the dishonesty would be plain to both of us? Surely he didn't believe that I was so mentally negligible as to be unable to see through a very obvious deception?
It was not until I had swallowed the last morsel of food that it occurred to me that perhaps Jeeves felt remorse over the pain he had caused me due to the jacket. Maybe he was apologising for that; not the loss of the item itself.
Whatever Jeeves' motivations were my path was clear to me. I could not take Jeeves' hard-earned money from him. He deserved his pay. There was no need to reimburse me for the jacket. What was mine also belonged to him, and as much as I hated what he had done, I did not feel he owed me his wages. I needed to go home. We needed to have that talk sooner not later.
I sat my tray aside, swung my plates to the floor, and retrieved a suitcase. I didn't have much to pack, but I grabbed a suit and started to shove it into my luggage when I paused. I can pack a suitcase neatly, but Jeeves has exacting standards, and in my haste I was being none too careful. It would hardly be a good start to bridge building to have Jeeves open my suitcases and be pained by what he saw. It came to the onion with far more force than I considered necessary that by bringing the mess jacket home, I had done exactly what I was taking great care to avoid now. I had caused Jeeves to be pained as soon as he opened my suitcase. The thought slowed my movements even further, and I was painstakingly careful as I packed. While I did so, I said to myself, “He is your spouse now. You must start giving a thought to how he feels about thingummys.”
I began to reflect on what would happen when the Wooster person arrived home. Somehow I would have to get Jeeves to sit with the young master and talk. It was not Jeeves' reluctance that I was most worried about; it was my own. If I got to the flat, and Jeeves had everything in readiness for a pleasant evening at home, would I forget all my good intentions and let the whole matter drop? I decided not to send Jeeves a telegram alerting him to the fact that I was legging it to the old metrop. If he didn't know I was returning then he could not prepare to placate me when I arrived.
I considered how I would go about matters when I came face to face with Jeeves. Firstly I would declare my love for him. I didn't want him sitting there through a long chat, one that it was possible I'd bungle, while wondering if I still loved him. Next I would tender my apology... as I thought this, I sighed inwardly. As much as I felt I owed him that apology, it was going to require some bracing up on my part. No dwelling on the chap's rummy joke, the bicycle ride, or the jacket. Those things I had decided to forgive and forgive I would. Then I would tell him of my resolutions. Lastly, I would share with Jeeves what I needed from him, but I would not push for what I wanted. I'd state what I felt would help us and let him apply that great brain to the matter and judge whether he felt able to cooperate. I knew that if I could get Jeeves to listen to me, he would remember what I said, even if he chose to ignore it at the time. It would remain in his memory for future consideration. I would accomplish that, if nothing more.
I spent the entire journey home going over exactly what I'd say and reviewing everything that I had decided. I also began to fully realise that I had never had a good understanding of what marriage meant before. I had worked the old lemon more in the past two days than I had probably worked it in all my lifetime. Marriage was clearly thinking and working and changing and commitment... all the things I had tried so hard to avoid. I had no regrets, though. I loved the man. I didn't want to live without him. I wanted to grow old with him and to be able to hold him at night.
I felt no resentment toward Jeeves about it, either. He had freed me from many engagements; he had done all he could to let me continue to live as I liked to. It was not Jeeves but our relationship and our love that required more of Bertram Wooster. It was that thought and the idea of growing older together that gave me the idea of how to approach Jeeves about matters.
Still, it was a nervous Bertram Wooster that climbed the steps to our flat that afternoon. I stood with my hand on the doorknob for several minutes before straightening the shoulders and firming the resolve. Inhaling deeply, I opened the door and when it was shut behind me, I called, “Jeeves, I'm home!”
I didn't see Jeeves, so guessing that he might be in the kitchen, I headed that way.
We met in the drawing room. I glanced at his face to determine if a hug would be welcomed. It can be difficult to discern what Jeeves is feeling, but I have become quite good at it through the years. This time, however, it wasn't necessary to try to judge the man's map. He gave me a small, hesitant smile, and that was all I needed.
It was the work of a moment to enfold Jeeves in my arms. I knew I had done the right thing instantly. His body relaxed against mine, and his arms wrapped tightly around me. I said, “It's good to be home, old chap!” I pulled back from him a little so I could gaze into his eyes. “I love you, Jeeves. I hope you know that, old top.”
I was surprised when my normally calm, steady man hid his face in my neck and said in almost a whisper, “I will admit that I doubted at first but...” Now his eyes met mine once more and he said, “I decided to trust in your love.”
Somehow that one sentence lifted my spirit, settled some of the nerves that were dancing around in the frame, and gave me a sense of confidence. I value trust, too, but I've never esteemed it as much as Jeeves does. Now suddenly its worth meant a great deal to me.
I hugged him to me tightly and said, “Jolly good, old chap! Because you can. Trust in my love, that is. I love you dearly.”
“I love you, too.”
We held each other, and I could have easily forgotten everything we needed to talk about in a celebration of being reunited with him again. I had determined with myself that we would talk and the instant I felt that resolve slipping away like sand from my fingers, I said, “We need to talk.”
“I agree, sir.”
Yet again, I was startled by Jeeves' reaction. I had not expected an outright refusal but a little stuffiness to accompany my request had been anticipated.
He added, “Would you like a drink first, sir?”
“Rather. Will you have one?”
“Yes, sir.”
His easy acquiescence with everything I suggested made me hope that I would actually get listened to. I settled into a chair and watched my man fix and pour us both drinks. Happiness at being in his company calmed the nerves even further and when the drink was placed in my hand, I felt quite ready for our chat.
He sat down next to me and said, “I wish to talk to you, also, sir. You may start, if you wish.”
I started to protest this offer when comprehension came to the bean. He and I both knew that if I put off what I had to say, I might never say it. And, I thought, he's probably nervous, too.
I took a sip of my drink, sat it down, and said, “I owe you an apology. Several, old chap.” Now it had come to it, I didn't have to swallow down the Wooster pride as I had believed I would. I did truly regret my actions and remorse at treating my man badly washed away the pride, leaving behind only love and a desire to do right by Jeeves. “I'm sorry that I spoke to you in such a soupy manner so often, I'm sorry for every time I stepped on your feelings, and most of all I regret throwing resentment and anger at you for things that weren't your fault; some of it wasn't related to you at all.”
I paused. Jeeves was staring at me, and I suddenly realised that perhaps I had just made my man speechless. He was certainly surprised, so much so that the emotion was not hidden very well. Reaching for my drink, I partook of more and gathered courage.
While I was sipping, Jeeves said, “I...”
He halted and it took me a second to realise that he was waiting for me to cease drinking. Puzzled, I sat the glass down and said, “My man?”
“I owe you an apology for many of my actions, also, sir. I deeply regret sending you on the bicycle ride, and I am sorry for the disrespect I gave you; both by my deeds and also by my tone of voice. I have remorse over the jest I told you; for that, too, you have my sincere apology. I also regret ruining your jacket.”
It was my turn to feel astonishment. My first thought was the totally useless one of it's a good thing I wasn't drinking or I'd have choked. I stared around the room in bewilderment, wondering why the Wooster ears had starting telling me things that couldn't possibly be correct. I was fairly certain that Jeeves had apologised to me before during our years together, but the bean floundered and could not recall when he had. After a gaze around the room revealed nothing to clear the confusion, I directed the stare to Jeeves.
There was a sad expression on his face, and he said, “Have I been so stubborn and hard with you that an apology is greeted with disbelief?”
I cleared my throat, grabbed my drink, and rushed some of the b. and s. down the throat. Then I answered, “No, it's not that. And I remember now. You said you were sorry for leaving me over the banjolele. It's just that I was expecting you to feel justified with your actions and you... well, I can almost believe...”
I ceased. There seemed to be no inoffensive way to say that he actually sounded as if he was telling the truth about the jacket.
Jeeves said, “I did feel justified over my actions while I was doing them but scrutinising them closely has brought me remorse. I am sorry. I have decided to try to be more honest with you. I cannot regret the loss of the jacket, but I regret my method of disposing of it. I am also pained over the hurt I have brought to you.”
This was something I could accept. It had the ring of truth in it and sounded like my Jeeves. I nodded. “It's all been forgiven, old chap. I hope you will forgive me, too?”
“I will. I appreciate your words.”
The conversation was going far better than I had imagined. I hadn't had that rummy feeling yet that said that I was being a dimwit and continuing to talk would only make my lack of intelligence more and more obvious. I suspected that the feeling would soon be arriving, though. We had reached the difficult part and sadly, I thought, it was very important that I make matters clear and very likely I would fail in the attempt.
“Jeeves, what I'm about to say, I might bung up, but it's important. If there seems no reason for it, well, give me a chance to get it all said, what?”
“I will give you my utmost attention, sir.”
“Thank you.” I downed the rest of my drink and began. “The way I see it, our relationship can go down three roads from here. We can go on as we have been; I can continue throwing resentment at you, and you can go on taking revenge on me until we're seventy or eighty. Then... well, there we'll be, and there will be no having those years back. We'll have a wall between us higher than we can see over, and I'll have more regrets than I want to have when I'm seventy. Or we can travel from here, changing nothing, only to realise ten years from now that we've been heading down the wrong road. At that point, we can start pulling the rocks between us down, but it's going to be harder with each year that goes by, and those years can't be redone. I'm going to find it dashed difficult now, and I'm probably going to fall over my own attempts more than once. Years from now, it will be even tougher. Am I making sense at all?”
“Perfectly, sir. If we continue as we are now, we will continue what is becoming a pattern with us; behaviour will become habits that are difficult to change. Charles Reade said, 'Sow an act, and you reap a habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny.' In this case it is a relationship we would reap but the idea is the same.”
“That's it exactly!” Pleased, I felt more confidence about explaining what I wanted him to understand. “The three road... I'm willing to make some changes to start down that one. It means I change some things that damage our relationship. That road means that I build bridges, not stack up rocks, so that when I'm eighty, all we see is the love between us, not a wall of resentment and hurt. The nub of all this, Jeeves, is that I need you to see that what I'm going to ask for is about our relationship; not about Bertram Wooster and his far from perfect way of treating his spouse.”
To my happiness, Jeeves said, “I understand. It is our relationship and the consequences to it that you wish me to concentrate on, sir.”
I smiled. Serious discussions weren't so rotten with Jeeves meeting me each step of the way. “Rather! I want to stop saying hurtful things to you, especially rummy darts that come from my anger at someone else. So when I open my mouth and hurt you due to being pipped at someone else, I want you to give me some word or sign that I'm doing it again. Not indeed, sir or very good, sir. I need something that makes it clear that I'm stepping on you.”
“Nolle prosequi. Would that be satisfactory?”
“Very. Here's how it relates to our relationship. I'm going to have to trust you not to state the words, if you're just pipped at the young master. You can't use it to get me to get rid of some thingummy when I'm rightfully angry at you or when I'm just being soupy in my tone. It's to be used when the young master is being unfair to you or you find my words to carry sting. If you have to use nolle prosequi twice in one week... and you probably will once in a while... I will give you the right to go through the entire flat including my wardrobe and remove anything that doesn't please the Jeeves' eyes.”
I leaned forward now as the next point was extremely important. “Jeeves, I want to do this for us badly enough that I'm willing to bite the Wooster tongue to achieve it, but I need your help. And I know I'll not manage, if I feel you are using this wrongly.”
Jeeves leaned forward, too, and his fingers brushed my face. He said, “I cannot tell you how touched I am. I promise you that I will not abuse the right you are giving me. You have my word; on my name's honour. I understand the importance of this to our relationship; it means the difference between which road we travel. I have trouble admitting when you hurt me but if you can make such effort for our relationship then surely I will do my part. It aids me just knowing that you are aware that sometimes the anger you give to me is misplaced. I did not believe you understood that fact, sir.”
“I didn't at first. We'd been together for over three years before the old conscience started bunging in complaints about it. Even then I didn't think I was being unfair. I'd just remember something you'd said or done that pipped me and that would soothe the upset conscience. At least, it did for a time, but after everything that just happened, the conscience insisted that I bring Bertram Wooster's faults into the light and take a good look at them.”
Jeeves replied, “I appreciate your honesty and your offer to change. May I offer a suggestion?”
“Rather.”
“Perhaps when I first have to use my words, I might have the option of an evening free or if we are at Brinkley Court, a day back in London, if I see it as necessary. This is not suggested as a punishment for you, sir. I feel it might give us both a chance to get away from the situation and an opportunity for heated emotions to cool.”
I liked the idea instantly. A short separation would give me time to reconsider using Jeeves as a convenient target. “I like that. Yes, let's do that.”
“Very good, sir.”
There were two more things that I needed to talk with Jeeves about. Choosing what I hoped would be the easier one, I took the envelope from a pocket and placed it on a small stand nearby, nudging it to Jeeves' side of the stand. “I cannot accept this, Jeeves. You've earned it.”
His eyes met mine, and he said, “I ruined your jacket. On purpose. Many employers would have withheld compensation from my wages.”
I didn't care what most employers did. I waved the statement away and said, “And you've apologised and I've forgiven. That should be enough. Besides, I know it wasn't an accident, Jeeves. Did you think I didn't? I suppose you think I am so mentally negligible that I don't notice anything you do.” The notion made me unhappy and I glanced down at the floor.
He replied, “No sir, I knew that you were aware it was not an accident. When I first entered your employ I mistook your general cheerfulness to be an unawareness of matters around you. I have long since amended my impression. It is best, however, not to give anyone reasons to believe that we are more than friends; therefore, I sometimes say what I do not mean in an effort to cover my true thoughts.”
Jeeves' words made me wonder if he regularly went around declaring that his young master was mentally negligible. I didn't like the idea. People probably wondered if Jeeves had any respect for me. The uncomfortable thought that maybe my valet didn't hold me in high esteem came to the Wooster lemon. I asserted, “I say, I wish you would find some other way to do that! I understand we need to be very discreet but that's a bit thick, Jeeves!”
“I shall refrain from using that expression in the future, sir.”
“Right-ho, Jeeves. As long as you don't find something worse to say about my intelligence.”
“I will not, sir. Please keep the money, sir. For the next few weeks, let my work be done only for love. Deeply do I love you and gladly would I serve you without remittance, even if I did not rightly owe you recompense.”
I considered my valet's answer and slowly nodded. The Wooster person still didn't find the idea to his fancy, but as Jeeves took his meals here and lived with me, I did not believe he would suffer for the temporary loss of wages. There was also the possibility that this would help Jeeves in the same way that having my man go through the flat and remove whatever he disliked would aid me in not directing resentment at him. I said, “I love you, too, old chap.
Now we came to the most difficult part of what I needed to discuss with Jeeves. I lit a nervous gasper and had a long pull on it before saying, “The last thingummys are ways I think you can help us go down the right road. Only I want you to understand that I know I have no right to ask you to change. When I said my vows to you I accepted you as you are.”
Jeeves cleared his throat, and I halted.
He said, “Perhaps, sir, you would not mind if I spoke now. I have made some resolutions of my own while you were gone. Should I not mention the issues that you believe are essential to our relationship then I am quite amenable to anything you desire.”
I found this to be quite agreeable. Requests from me that Jeeves alter his behaviour might be viewed in a negative light but if the ideas came from him, he should have a willing attitude toward changing. My man stating that he would be amendable to what I desired was very hopeful, too. I said, “Carry on.”
Jeeves stood up and refilled our drinks. He was as efficient as always but some instinct told me that he was just as anxious as I had been when I had to do the talking. When he sat down again, I reached out and placed my hand over his. “Old chap, I love you, and I've made the old bean work hard for our relationship. I promise, no matter what you say, I'll not cause you to have stung feelings by words from me. If you wish to drag the young master's faults into view, I'll brace up and bear it. If you want me to change something about Bertram Wooster, I'll give it the best try I can. I'm determined on this matter. I'm not going to hurt us, if I can help it, and I'm going to give our relationship my all. You're worth it to me and so is our love.”
Jeeves' hand clasped mine, and he said, “I love you, Bertram Wooster. I always will. I have decided several things. I plan on being more open with you in the future. I will try to keep fewer matters from you and I will talk to you more.”
Remembering how Jeeves had helped me when I was the one confessing faults, I said, “I may not be able to guess everything you've done since you have become an indispensable part of the Wooster home, but I believe I know more than you suspect. I let things pass; no need to speak of them, says I. You have your reasons and overall I trust you. You have certainly earned my gratitude through the years and because of that I'm willing to overlook the times you have put my person in the soup a bit deeper than it already was. You've never really let me down. And if I don't know all the things you have done that I would not like, well, I probably don't know all the things you do that makes my life better, either.
“I would love for you to be more open with me, Jeeves, but I know it is your instinct to do what you can to protect your position. I understand that. I know, too, that life has not always been kind to you, and you feel you must do what you have to do. I have no idea what caused it, but I am also aware that you have far more of a need to be in control than I do. I don't let any of this trouble me.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me and thank you for your kindness and understanding. I was angry and...”
There was a brief pause as Jeeves sipped of his drink. To my amazement, I realised that he was having a more difficult time than I was at talking.
He said, “I was angry and hurt, and I let my emotions rule my actions. I am certain that you probably have a justified idea of what you consider were my worst actions were these past few weeks. I have thought over them and one of the things I regret the most is the unnecessary bicycle ride. When I think of how you must have felt...”
I started to state just how I had felt; frightened, unloved, pipped, hurt, but I bit it back. It was clear that he regretted having sent me on that ride, and I found that I no longer felt upset over his deed.
Jeeves continued, “After you had given me permission to visit my family, I sought my sister, Mary's council. She helped me see more clearly. While there is no excuse for my action, I feel I owe you an explanation, if you desire one.”
“I would like one, yes. You sent me on an unnecessary bicycle ride at night without a lamp, and you thought it was amusing. Love does not laugh when a loved one faces danger.”
“I will give you my reasoning, however, I am not excusing my deeds. The roads you had to travel were quiet country roads, not liable to be travelled much at that time of night. Your eyesight is excellent, even in the dark. I felt the danger to your person to be minimal if not non-existent. My amusement at the time of your departure was most inappropriate and was due to my irritation over other matters not to any thoughts that you were actually in danger.”
He added, “And in truth, sir, with the exception of my sister, I am not accustomed to anyone discerning my emotions as well as you do. I did not expect you to notice my amusement.”
I already knew that I had learned to judge my man's map well, but his words pleased me, and I asked, “I'm becoming rather accomplished at reading the old stuffed frog expression?”
“Indeed, sir. As touching my words when you arrived back, I give you my apologies. I was hurt over recent events. I thought it very likely that you would be angry and pay my words no mind. My sister feels throwing your teacup might be better.”
“Normally I'd say that anyone who throws a teacup, especially mine, is to be avoided, but in this case I would say that your sister is a most sensible person.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope you do not mind that I confided in her.”
“I don't. We all need someone to talk to sometimes.”
Part two: community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/859183.html#cutid1