A Deuced Difficult Dilemma, Ch. 5
Jan. 12th, 2012 01:08 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wotwotleigh.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
indeedsir_backupChapter: 5/?
Pairing: Bertie/OFC, Bertie/Jeeves (eventually)
Summary: Bertie is dismayed to find that he rather likes the latest girl that Aunt Agatha is egging him on to marry.
Rating: PG
Words: 1,065
Disclaimer: None of Wodehouse's characters belong to me. I'm just writing this for fun.
A relatively brief update this time! Part 1 is here, part 2 is here, part 3 is here, part 4 is here.
When we arrived back at the estate a few hours later, I slipped away quietly to my lair, leaving Hecken to confer with various relatives. I was relieved to find Jeeves lurking about the place.
“What a disaster, Jeeves.”
“Sir?”
“My outing, Jeeves. With Hecken.”
“I am sorry to hear it, sir. Did you find the entertainment disagreeable?”
I collapsed into one of the handful of overstuffed chairs that my guest quarters had to offer. “No. I found it entirely too agreeable. That’s just the trouble. Hecken very soundly advised that we give Aunt Agatha’s beastly recital a wide berth and avail ourselves of the local cinema instead. We went to see ‘Take a Chance.’”
“I have heard it is a pleasantly diverting picture, sir.”
“It was a riot, Jeeves. We laughed at all the same spots. We sang that corking new number ‘Night Owl’ all the way home, even though neither of us knows the words. Hecken sings a bit off key, but her voice is so dashed sweet it doesn’t matter. I could listen to her warble all day. And to make matters worse, I realized about half way through the blasted picture that she looks altogether too much like Lillian Roth when she smiles.”
“Good heavens, sir.”
“Why does she have to have dimples, Jeeves?”
“Young ladies are notoriously unsportsmanlike in this regard, sir.”
“Oh, woman, woman, as the chap says, what?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“It was a close call helping her out of the car when we got back. I nearly went down on one knee right then and there when I caught sight of her sideways for a moment.”
He looked about as imperturbable as I’ve ever seen him, if imperturbable is the word I want. I mean to say, the cove looked more like a stuffed frog than your average stuffed frog. “This is most serious indeed, sir.”
“Blast it, Jeeves, you don’t sound so jolly well concerned as you ought to. I’m taking the dickens of a purler over this girl. Haven’t you come up with anything?”
“I fear not, sir. Shall I draw your bath, sir?”
I was wounded by his callous manner, but I was too exhausted by the whole ordeal to argue. “Fine, Jeeves,” I said, waving a dismissive hand.
---
I was pleased to discover that the rubber duck, abandoned by some youthful visitor, was still in the soap dish where I had left it on my last sojourn. I toyed listlessly with the thing for awhile and sang a few disconsolate bars of “Night Owl”, but it didn’t really help. I couldn’t understand why Jeeves was acting so dashed peculiar about the whole thing.
I remembered what Hecken had said about him seeming lovesick, and a chill gripped the spine despite the heat of the bathwater. It suddenly occurred to me that Jeeves himself was in love, and was looking for a good excuse to oil out of my employ so that he could run off and attach himself to the object of his d. The very thought made me feel so bally rotten that even the duck couldn’t cheer me up. I set the thing back in the soap dish and crawled miserably out of the tub.
I had just slipped into my dressing gown when Jeeves himself floated in, looking positively animated. He coughed conspiratorially and pulled the door shut behind him.
“I beg your pardon, sir . . .” he began in a low voice.
“What is it, Jeeves?” I asked mournfully.
“I chanced to overhear a conversation between Mrs. Gregson and Mrs. Travers a few moments ago, sir. I fear that Mrs. Gregson has discovered that you escorted Miss Fernsby to a ribald cinematic entertainment rather than to the recital that Mrs. Gregson had suggested. She is . . . perturbed, sir.”
I started violently, momentarily forgetting about my frightful theory. “How on earth did she find out, Jeeves?”
“I gather that Mrs. Gregson is friends with one of the ladies who organized the performance, sir. The lady in question reported that you and Miss Fernsby were absent from the recital when Mrs. Gregson telephoned her a short while ago.”
“Blast it, I should have known she would figure it out somehow! The bally relative is more like a bloodhound than anything human. Whatever will I do?”
“I believe it would be expedient for you to make yourself inconspicuous for the present, sir. If I might suggest the shed by the pond . . .”
I shuddered. “How long will I have to hide, Jeeves?”
“Not long, I should imagine, sir. I will endeavor to correct the situation as efficiently as possible. In the meantime, in case you are forced to miss dinner, I have secured some provisions from the larder for you.” And he handed me a basket that felt like it weighed about two tons.
“Good lord, Jeeves, what’s in here? This has to be about a week’s worth of rations!”
“I considered it best to err on the side of excess in this case, sir.”
“Well, if you say so. Lead on, Jeeves.”
We slipped out into the gathering dusk, narrowly avoiding several aunts and a nosy butler on the way. Jeeves silently ushered me into the shed, and I stood blinking in the darkness, still gripping the improbably heavy basket. I had just set the thing down when a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows.
“Bertie?” said the voice.
I gave a yelp and hit my head on a passing beam.
“I’m sorry, Bertie,” said the source of the voice, emerging from behind a bunch of sacks of potting soil. It was Hecken, grasping a candle in one hand and a spine-chiller in the other. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, well, you know, just trying to avoid aunts and all that. I beg your pardon. Didn’t realize this shed was taken. I’ll just be on my way.” I turned to the door, but I found to my horror that the thing had closed behind me. Some vigorous rattling confirmed my worst suspicions. “Good Lord!” I ejaculated.
“What is it?”
“The door’s locked!”
“What! But who would do such a thing?”
I ground a tooth or two. “Jeeves!” I hissed.
“But,” said Hecken, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, “why?”
“Ah,” I said darkly, “there you have me.”
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Date: 2012-01-12 07:24 am (UTC)You poor thing, Bertie's begging you to get him out of this and you think he WANTS her?
*weeps copiously*
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Date: 2012-01-12 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-01-12 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-12 07:35 am (UTC)ZOMGWTFBBQ!?!?!?!?
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Date: 2012-01-12 04:09 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-01-12 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-12 07:16 pm (UTC)Seriously, as everyone else has said, this is gorgeous torture!
It's all due to your fantastic writing talent. Will try to patiently wait for more....
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Date: 2012-01-12 10:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-13 02:37 am (UTC)