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

VII - For the First Time

Jasper sat down in his library after announcing that he wouldn't be joining everyone for dinner, and he should have known better to have locked himself in his room, for there was one person who was not going to accept his decline without so much as an explanation.

As he sat trying to control the tears in his eyes, Jasper was joined a minute later by Darcy. She remained in the archway for a moment, looking in towards the back of his armchair. The sound of his quiet sobbing could be heard from where she was, and when Darcy finally entered, she came up beside the Master and sat down on the armrest.

"There, there," she placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. "My sweet Jasper, please tell me why you have refused us?"

The Master didn't cease from crying as he covered his face, the weight of his guilt and self-disapproval was all too much for him to handle alone. Was it so selfish of him to view Mr. Creel as anything other than an acquaintance? The man was so handsome and gentle with his words, kindhearted even in all his brooding, and Jasper wondered in all of his sorrows if this man in his home could view him the same. Was Timothy at conflict with himself for feeling a certain way towards Jasper, or was he a man incapable of perhaps falling for another who wasn't his past lover?

Jasper couldn't imagine Timothy opening up to him, or anyone for that matter, and that in itself made him feel even more at fault. The Master was frustrated in more ways than one, both emotionally and dare he admit sexually, and Timothy...he wanted the other man. He wanted to feel what it was like to be held in the arms of someone who cared, touched in places that promised stimulation and eagerness, kissed and spoken to in a manner that reminded him he wasn't as lonely as he used to be even before Elijah.

Selfish.

Whore.

Traitor.

The words bounced back and forth through Jasper's mind, each reminding him that what he felt for the stranger in his home was wrong.

And yet, he still yearned for Timothy to see him.

"Look at you," Darcy spoke, touching her soft fingers through Jasper's hair. "Even when you sit and cry, somehow you are still as beautiful as the sun. Is it Timothy?" she asked then, "Do you not want him here? If that is the case, my dear, I will have you know he looked rather disappointed when it was said you would not be joining us; though, if it would truly quell your heart, I can relay that perhaps his departure early is necessary?"

Trying his best to clean the tears from his rosy cheeks, Jasper finally met Darcy's eyes. "That is not it," he said, voice mildly shaken. "The problem is that I want him to stay, I want him to stay with me. But I cannot settle for that even though it sits and dwells in my heart. He was not meant for me, as I was not meant for him."

Coming to understand the fear in her husband, Darcy smoothed her hand along his slim shoulder. "Oh, Jasper, I knew in my heart you would come to adore him. Neglecting his bloody history, I am confident in saying he could be a rather nice match for you."

"But I couldn't possibly love another. Elijah wouldn't—."

"Elijah wouldn't want you to close yourself off to the world," Darcy said sternly. "You do not think I know, my dear, but I have seen and heard how often you cry and mourn for him. You think I am ignorant to your constant pain and sorrows, but I could never simply ignore how my friend is feeling. You put on your stoic face, keep your head held high in my presence, but I know, Jasper. I know. What you need is to blossom once more in this lifetime. Flowers cannot survive if locked in windowless rooms, will never know how beautiful they can be if the sun and water is not given to them. And you, Jasper, are a rather dashing rose. You must show your colors again. Doing so would not be this betrayal I'm sure you consider it to be. Love is love, my dear, let your heart feel it at least one more time."