The Master Finale | manxman | (Book Four: The Master Collection)

X - The Man Named Broderick Thorne

Ever since he'd lost Neville to vicious hands, Timothy had locked away Broderick Thorne in a place he once thought he'd lost track of. With everything that connected him to the noblemen he used to be gone from his life, it was easy to forget about the wondrous young man he once was. But these feelings that were forming in his chest, the feelings that struck the chords connected to Broderick Thorne, they all called out to him.

And he wanted to listen, he wanted them to guide him in the direction they were pulling, and that was towards Master Jasper Lancechester. No, the blond nobleman was not Neville, but Timothy wanted to feel again, and the key to that lied in the other man's hands.

"One more ride, girl," Timothy ran his fingers through the mane of his horse, "And then I shall give you rest." He climbed up on the buggy and made his way to the manor.

The journey was rather quick since he knew exactly where he was going, and when he let himself into the gates, he went ahead toward the stables around back and locked his horse inside. Almost every window of the manor was blackened by darkness, almost, for there was but one on the third floor with a minor glow emitting from it, a single candle showing there was sleepless life on the inside.

With Jasper making sure to keep a door unlocked for him, Timothy entered through the back doors and then bolted them once he was inside. The first level was silent as he traveled down the deserted corridors, the stairs leading to the upper floors like shadowy twists in the night, but Timothy could still see clear enough given his eyes adjustment to the dark.

On the third floor, he headed for Jasper's chamber, but stopped when he thought he heard angered voices off to his right. Already knowing that the servants were asleep in their own personal quarters, Timothy considered the argument must be coming from where Lady Darcy and Juliette shared their own room.

Inquisitive to how such an anger could arise from someone as cheerful as Darcy and Juliette, Timothy decided it was none of his business to intrude on their personal matters. Continuing on to Jasper's chamber, he tapped the back of his knuckle against the face of the door, and a moment later, it was opened by the man he'd come all this way to see.

Tonight, the Master was dressed down for the evening in his sleepwear. It was as white as snow in the winter and fell far passed his knees, a gown with delicate designs sewn prettily into the lace folds of the collar and sleeves, and Jasper's sunny blond hair was tied back into a ribbon. For someone seeming to have gotten ready for bed, he still looked stunning in whatever apparel he chose to wear.

"Good evening," Timothy greeted kindly, "I want to apologise if I kept you waiting for longer than you expected."

"There is no need," Jasper stepped back with a limp, "I am only glad you still came. Please, come inside, I am sure you are tired from your passage."

"That I am," Timothy entered, dropping his bag beside the door. "How was your day while I was gone? Did you and the Lady speak more about the demands of your father?"

When Jasper said nothing, Timothy turned to the nobleman again to find him turning his thumbs nervously. "She is frightened," Jasper said then, "As am I, but her fear far out-weighs mine entirely. Never in her life, particularly after she and I married, did she ever consider the idea of suffering through intimacy with anyone other than Juliette, intimacy from another man, of all people." Making his way slowly into the second half of the bedroom after locking the entry door, Jasper brought himself up on the bed and sat with his legs crossed near the edge.

"Surely somewhere down the line," Timothy said, unbuttoning his shirt, "you both thought at least once about the need for a successor to the Lancechester fortune."