Work Text:
Part the First – Understandings
“Bunter?”
The manservant turned from the tray he was arranging to his satisfaction to regard the woman his master has so recently succeeded in wooing. She looked decidedly ill at ease, but then, being subjected to Duchess Helen was enough to make anyone ill. Bunter silently chided himself for his ungracious thoughts towards his master’s sister-in-law, no matter how true they might be.
Deep brown eyes studied him intently.
“May I help you, my lady?”
His words seemed to startle her out of whatever contemplation had momentarily taken her. A soft blush stained her cheeks and Bunter could see how his lordship had been taken with her appearance.
“I’m not a lady yet, Bunter,” she said with a depreciating smile. “And if Helen is what a lady is meant to be, I think I would rather stay as I am.”
Bunter allowed the ghost of a smile to touch his normally stoic lips. “I would think the Dowager Duchess would be a better example of the type of lady His Lordship would wish you to be, if I may be so bold.”
That earned him a full smile. “Of course you may be so bold, dear Bunter.” She looked down at her hands a moment before once more meeting his eyes. “May I ask you to be even a bit more bold?”
“My lady?”
She hurried to reassure him. “It’s nothing that will endanger Peter. In fact, it’s my hope that it will help him immensely.”
He relaxed, relieved that her first concern was for his lordship’s welfare. “What may I do for you, my lady?”
She took a deep breath, as if steadying herself. The words, when they came, came out in a rush. “You may give me your consent and blessing to marry Peter.”
Of all the things he had expected, this was one that had never even entered his thoughts. His lordship had spent so very long pursuing his intended that Bunter had resigned himself to the inevitability that one day, he would be put aside by his lordship’s new bride. It had truly never occurred to the unflappable servant that said bride would seek out *his* thoughts on his lordship’s impending nuptials.
“My lady. In the years that I have served his lordship, he has proven to be a man who follow his own ideals, devil take society’s conventions and opinions. If you’ll forgive the vulgarity. He has chosen you, my lady, and you need neither my consent nor my blessing to marry his lordship.” He pushed back the small pain caused by admitting such facts out loud. He had known this day would come, but it didn’t ease the ache of what he was about to lose.
Her smile was tinged with a compassion he hadn’t expected, as if she knew where his erstwhile thoughts had taken him. She placed a solid hand on his arm. “Sit with me?” she asked quietly, gesturing toward one of the kitchen chairs.
“Surely Her Grace will be missing your presence,” he offered in weak protest.
“Helen wouldn’t miss me if half of her ‘friends’ suddenly vanished.” Her tone was wry and she leaned in conspiratorially. “And I don’t mind it one bit.” She gestured towards a chair while sitting herself demurely on another. “Please sit?”
He nodded and joined her at the table, after pouring them both a cup of tea from the cozy warming on the tray he’d been about to take to the Dowager. He easily readied her tea, setting it before her with all the grace years of service had gifted him with.
She tasted the tea and looked up at him in surprise. “It’s exactly how I prefer it, Bunter. How...?”
He did his best to look offended. “A good manservant is observant in all things, my lady. And if I am to serve you and his lordship, it is a reasonable action to observe how you take your tea. As I know the Dowager takes just enough honey to add a slight sweetness to the tea before adding just a splash of cream. Her Grace takes her tea dark and unsweetened when dining with family, but however is in vogue when taking tea with her compatriots. While the Duke of Denver takes his as sweet as he can without the Duchess objecting.”
She regarded him, curiosity lighting her intelligent gaze. “And Peter?”
“It depends upon his mood, my lady. If he is drinking it dark, often he is in a dark mood as well, or distracted enough that he simply forgot to add his normal sugar and milk. If it is heavily sweetened with little milk, he is attempting to remain awake as the extra sugar allows him to do so. If it is liberally dosed with milk and honey, he is upset or perhaps a bit ill. He finds the milk soothing and the honey a comforting reminder of how her Ladyship the Dowager used to fix it for him.” He coughed in embarrassment as he realized the extent of what he had said. But it was only fitting that the woman who was soon to be taking care of Peter know these quirks that Bunter had grown so accustomed to. She would need such knowledge in order to deal with Peter’s moods.
“You’ve been with Peter for a long time, haven’t you?”
“Since the War, my lady.”
“And after,” she added quietly, staring intently at her teacup.
He offered a noncommittal noise before hiding behind his own bitter tea. He had known his time with his lordship would eventually end, it was only right that a new lady of the house would wish to choose her own staff. And his lordship would have little need of Bunter’s other services with such a suitable and capable lady at his side.
She glanced up at him, a soft noise of her own escaping her lightly glossed lips. She set down her cup and reached across the distance between them, her hand light where it rested uncertainly on his arm. “He would be lost without you, Bunter. Surely you know that? I would *never* ask you to leave him. In fact, I think if poor Peter was asked to choose, *I* would be the one left behind.”
“Such a choice would kill him, my lady,” he answered without thought for what it might reveal of his place in the other man’s life. After all his lordship had been through to finally capture this independent creature that had captured his heart from the prisoner’s dock, Bunter knew such a choice would shatter the surprisingly fragile man. Which was why he had determined that Pe... his lordship, would never have to face such a choice. He had already begun the task of seeking out a suitable valet and butler, which he would present to her ladyship after she and his lordship were settled into their new life.
“Which is why we must never make him do so,” she answered without hesitation. She grimaced after a moment. “If... if you’ll consent to have me, or... for me to have Peter... or,” she blushed hotly, “or to share him with me.” She lowered her head, her deep voice chuckling melodiously in the odd quiet of the kitchen. “For a writer, I seem to find myself at an odd and sudden lack for words. Perhaps I should attempt this again,” she forced herself to meet his eyes. “With your kind permission, of course.”
“Of course, my lady,” he answered with solemn dignity, belied by the mirthful sparkle in his eyes.
“Mervin Bunter. I would ask, with a most penitent and sincere heart, for your consent to marry your lordship, Peter Death Bredon Wimsey. While I know such consent is *not* necessary,” she continued quickly, forestalling any protest, “I would never the less ask for it. Peter would not be the only one lost without you. I fear I shall need your patient assistance to help me refrain from causing Peter any more... discomfort at society’s hand – Duchess Helen’s hand,” she added with a mischievous grin before continuing her serious recitation, “than my past has already caused him.” She met Bunter’s eyes and held them fast. “May I be welcome into your household, and your lives?”
For the first time since Peter had told him that he “didn’t want eggs, dash it all!” Mervin Bunter found himself at a loss for what to say.
He approved of Harriet Vane’s common sense and intelligence. He felt she was a suitable match to his lordship’s tempers and flights of fancy. She was already acting as an oddly calming influence on his lordship, which pleased Bunter. If the hints of darkness rising again on the horizon played out as Bunter feared they would, his lordship would need such a bastion of calm. Peter would never say no to his country, regardless of the toll it would most assuredly take.
Bunter held no illusions as to where Peter would seek his most intimate solace once he was wed. Nor did Bunter think it should be otherwise. But he would be content knowing that his lordship would still have such solace, even if it were not from him. Her ladyship had already proven her mettle and Bunter was certain that, with help, she would be more than up to the task of fighting off his lordship’s demons. And having someone to help pull Peter back from the depths of his own private darkness would be most welcome, even in such a reduced capacity. Surely being allowed at least that much of his lordship’s life would be enough.
“Miss Vane, I...”
“I’ll do my best not to come between you,” she said softly. “I can assure you I will not cuckhold him or betray you to anyone. I only ask for the chance to be a part of his life. What I feel for him is not gratitude,” she confided, “I doubt it ever was, but I was too stubborn to admit it.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I fear I love him, Bunter and it is not something I do well.” She opened her eyes and pinned him with a too-knowing gaze. “I’ll need *you* to teach me that, as I fear he will let me hurt him in my ignorance.”
His calm facade nearly shattered. “I am sure I misunderstand you, my lady.”
Her eyes clouded with confusion as she studied his carefully neutral face. Bunter met her eyes with cool detachment as his own thoughts swirled and dashed, trying to find where he had betrayed his lordship. The slight, knowing smile that graced her lips was all too familiar, though her lips were fuller than the ones Bunter was use to seeing it on. He fought to quiet his thoughts, knowing he would need all his wits about him to avoid giving the game away.
“No. I think you understand completely, dear Bunter.” Her voice held no disgust, no recrimination, only discreetly offered support. “You *do* love him, don’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Bunter responded anyway. “As any servant loves his master, my lady,” he answered cautiously.
She nodded. “The servant becomes the master when the master proves to be but a man.” She studied him, her intent eyes not allowing him to look away. “And Peter is very much a man. A sweet, charming, fragile man that you have been master to since you came to him after the war. How could you not come to love him, Bunter? He is impossible to resist,” she added with a rueful grin.
Bunter finally looked away, studying her long, capable fingers as they lay against the darkness of his jacket sleeve. “I... I fear I am at a loss, my lady.”
“Sweet Bunter,” she breathed softly. “Peter is yours as much, in fact *more*, than he shall *ever* be mine. But could you find it within you to... share him with me? I know I treated him horribly but I should very much like to make up for that fact by becoming a doting, loving, ideal wife.”
Bunter couldn’t help but smile at the idea of this firebrand settling in to living the life that the current Duchess of Denver so cherished. But then, that wouldn’t be Peter’s ideal wife, and Bunter was certain that she *could* be exactly what Peter needed. Taking a risk he hoped he would not regret he placed his hand over hers. “If you will consent to share him with me as well, my lady, as much as your lives and hearts will allow.”
Her smile was breathtaking. “Gladly.” Her hand tightened reassuringly on his arm. “And you may find that our lives and hearts will allow a great deal, dear Bunter. I shall not give you cause to regret this, though I fear my own stubborn ways and unfamiliarity with Peter’s world may vex you mightily at times.”
He gave her the longsuffering look he usually reserved for his lordship when he was being particularly “troublesome”. “My lady. I have served his Lordship for sixteen years. I sincerely doubt that you could be more vexing or stubborn than he.”
“Should I be concerned, my dear,” came a familiar teasing tenor from the doorway causing both of them to startle, “that I find you hiding below decks with my own first mate whilst a veritable storm by the name of Helen rages above?” The lordship in question sauntered into the kitchens and placed a chaste kiss on his fiancée’s offered cheek. He tugged a chair to the table, settling himself between them comfortably as he studied their intimate pose, now broken. “Plotting mutiny, old fellow?” he asked mildly, his light eyes dancing as he turned his attention to his trusted friend and man Friday.
“Of course not, my lord,” Bunter answered calmly. He rose easily from the table with a nod to his new ladyship and turned to resume his task of making up the Dowager’s tea tray. He listened to the teasing tones passing between his lordship and his lordship’s bride-to-be and allowed himself a tender, if unseen, smile. Things had indeed taken an unexpected and unimagined turn, hopefully for the better, but after sixteen years at the remarkable Lord Peter’s side, he really shouldn’t have been surprised.
He refilled the teapot, settling it in its cozy still safely on the tea tray. With sure and quiet steps, he left the lovers to their peace. Perhaps he could enlist the Dowager Duchess’ help in distracting Her Grace to allow his charges some time alone. Ideas already forming in his head of how best to accomplish this daunting task, he started up the servant’s stairs to the Dowager’s rooms.
~~fin~~