Mr. Jasper.

Mr. Jasper's Arrangements

(Just a wee heads up, for those unfamiliar with the term 'enceinte' was used as a delicate euphemism for pregnant.)

 Mr. Jasper's Arrangements

Grineby Hall had been the home of the Jasper family for over two hundred years.Their particular dynastic tree had sprung from lowly, but resourceful roots, The family motto was 'Qui ministrat regi, proficuis', or 'Who ministers to the king, profits', described the Jasper sense of simple pragmatism to perfection. While others sought titles and high office, the Jasper family gained quiet wealth and influence.

Theobald was no exception to the family rule; his business was the Crown's business. That enterprise took on many guises, but mainly the importation of goods necessary to the comfort and security of the monarch, and thus the realm. Those goods could be actual, or on occasion were of an intellectual nature. In short, he was a legally sanctioned smuggler and spy.

And these being difficult times, business was good.

This morning however, Theobald was less concerned with business than with the lamentable state of the family seat. His late brother Augustus had failed the family name in more than his inability to produce an heir.

Augustus had not been of the usual Jasper cast. Where Theobald was tall, lithe of body and mind, Gussie had been short and stout, and a man more at home with the huntin', shootin', and fishin' set than the cut and thrust of the family's business. Indeed, he was more than happy to leave it all in the hands of his younger brother.

All Gussie had to do was get an heir, and manage the Grineby estate.

And at both, he had most indisputably failed.

Theobald had rarely visited Grineby. The London house in Carleton Square was much more to his liking; it was more modern, and convenient for business. Grineby was never really on his horizon. And it would seem not to have troubled his brother too much either. Plaster work was peeling; damp showed through delicate friezes; the grand Palladian frontage was green with moss and lichen.

The furniture was much as he remembered it as a child -- heavy Jacobean, dark and uncomfortable.

Lud, but he would swear the arse print of every Jasper since his great great great grandfather's time was still visible on the chairs.

And this was what he was offering the new Mrs. Jasper?  E'gad, but he was justly embarrassed by the place!

It had been his plan to leave the new Mrs. J happily enceinte and ensconced with her daughter in Grineby. Thus, his duty being most soundly done, he could resume attending to the King's business. There only need be the occasional foray north, perhaps a Christmas or two at Carleton Square for the missus and the children, and all would be as it should.

But there were two flies in this particular jar of ointment.

Firstly the dreadful state of the house. He could not, in all good conscience, leave his adorable creature and her child, and possibly his child, in the damp, ruined pile he had inherited.

Secondly was the fact that he thought of his new wife as 'an adorable creature', after only one night! How this had occurred he was quite at a loss. While his life had not been that of a libertine, and he was no less a monk, to be so enamoured, so quickly, left him bollixed to understand.

The previous night, while engaged in an exhilarating, and quite precise erotic manoeuvre, the bed collapsed.

Actually collapsed, mid coitus!

A creaking whine, followed juddering snaps, and The Great Bed of Grineby dipped alarmingly to one side, flinging the dear girl to the floor. Undeterred, his delightful Rose bit her lip and, wriggling invitingly backwards onto the rug, inquired after his well being. Once their lovemaking resumed, she glanced at the vast sinking ship of a bed and commented that she 'disliked being watched by cherubs anyway'.

No, there was nothing for it; the house must be restored to its former glory. 

Augustus be damned for the lazy fool he was!

 ###

On entering the dining room, intent upon a hearty and well earned breakfast, Theobald was surprised to see his bride seated at the long, elephantine table. Before her was a plate of yellow goo.

"Good morning, m'dear, I trust you are well rested?" There was a certain irony intended; he could not resist it.

Rose coughed politely and shifted, somewhat cautiously, in her chair. "Fairly well, sir." She lifted a small portion of the unfamiliar goo with her fork.

Theobald took his seat at the head of the table, with silent efficiency, the butler Banstable presented him with a freshly ironed copy of the Times, and a neatly folded and imposingly sealed letter. "Lord, but what can they want of me now?" he muttered forcing the wax open with the butter knife.

Rose looked up. Truthfully she had no idea what her husband actually did. Uncle Walter had been vague on that topic. That Mr. Jasper was a 'man of trade' was all she knew.

Once again she found herself squirming uncomfortably. The exertions of the previous night had left their mark. Well, marks really, Mr. J had been a revelation; his athleticism and selflessness were both quite startling.

For the hundredth time since their first union, Rose counted her blessings.

Theobald frowned, the letter could not go unanswered. It seemed a situation was fermenting that only he could remedy.

Dash it all, he had hoped to continue his advancement of his wife's schoolin'. A fleeting look and he was aware of that lady's discomfiture.

"Barnstable, a cushion for Mrs Jasper, if you please."

Shaking out his paper, he sighed, pursed his lips and sought distraction. The Thunderer was not what it was; news of Boney's latest escapade was irritating. Mr. Owen's well judged and illuminating essays on reform, had the poor man accused of sedition! And it seemed Lord Liverpool was up to his usual tricks. Though, try as he might to keep his mind on serious matters of the day, the delightful wriggle of his wife kept claiming his appreciation.

"I fear I must go to London, m'dear. Business requires my attention."

 "Will you be gone long?" Rose ventured.

"No, no, a day, perhaps two...Ah, Barnstable has your cushion I see." He couldn't help thinking of that charmingly agreeable rear presented to him on the previous night. No, he would not be gone long, not if he could help it.

 With great care Barnstable placed the silken buffer at Rose's back.

Mr. Jasper found he was unable to avoid the lascivious smirk that quirked his lips. He whispered, somewhat theatrically, "I believe Mrs. Jasper would prefer to sit on it."

Barnstable didn't falter. He retrieved the cushion, pummelled it firmly, and waited.

Rose's blush was fulsome, but a sensible girl, she stood and allowed the padding to be laid beneath her.

Sitting back, with no little relief; the yellow goo before her took on the glow of honeyed ambrosia.

Theobald did not trust himself to look up. "Better?"

"Much."

 The happy couple resumed their breakfast.