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

XII - Rosebuds

"Your Uncle Jazz will always be here for you, sweetheart," Jasper said to his niece, and the thankful little girl hugged him with all her might. For a while longer, he had stayed behind at the manor that now solely belonged to his sister, wanting to be sure Irwin Kingsland took his words seriously and vacated the premises. Jasper had even taken the time to let the housekeepers know that Beatrice was the only one they were to answer to, and if any saw the return of Irwin, they were to throw him into the dirt without second thought.

That was the command of Jasper Lancechester, and he would be sure it was suitably followed.

After bidding his sister and niece a farewell, Jasper and Timothy returned to the coach and started from the manor. Wade could be heard up top chatting away at the coachmen even with the man's clear deafness, but that didn't seem to be a bother for him.

While inside the coach as they traveled, Jasper kept his eyes on Timothy. The dark-haired man didn't look much like himself, and hadn't since the discovery of Irwin's disgusting crime against his very own daughter. Jasper just knew if he could, Timothy would take the reins into his own hands and seek Irwin himself, hand out the true form of justice he felt was in store for someone so repulsive. But as the silence was keeping Timothy's temper at bay, the cruelty in need of release from his being was clearly pent up inside of him.

Jasper also thought about the words Beatrice passed down to him, about the potential he wielded towards becoming a father to his own offspring someday. Never could he have actually visualized himself taking on the role of a parent. Jasper did not consider himself father material, and while bringing this child into the world was the only thing that would keep his marriage to Lady Darcy from falling apart at the seams, he was still more than minimally fearful of it all.

The process, the wait, the birth, all of it piled into Jasper's mind as steps that led closer to the reality he would have to contend with. And this reality would come with a face, a life, a name...

Was he truly ready to be a father?

"What troubles you?" Timothy asked, noticing the distress in the Master's eyes. "As a guest to your home, I have come to see the times you take off the guise of a Lancechester. You stare into the world's surrounding abyss when there is something on your mind."

Jasper, who was across from Timothy in the coach, switched seats and made himself comfortable beside the other man. Wanting to feel what comfort he could gather before they reached the manor again, he tucked into Timothy's side, placing a hand upon the man's chest as he closed his eyes.

"I have come to terms," the Master started, "with my duty to become a father by order of my own. Always, a family's legacy, particularly those whose legacy has reigned through many generations, ones as such are in high demand to be furthered by those who came before. The Lancechester's that came before me, many have worked to maintain a sense of fear that comes with the utterance of our surname. I am tempered, I am outspoken when in upset, and I make threats to solidify the authority I did not lift a finger to earn..." Jasper glanced up to Timothy then, and the man was listening, watching the world go by through a crack in the window of the coach. "Shall I truly pass the fear of my own name to my son? Should he be feared for the callousness created by men from generations prior to our existence?"

Though it did not appear Timothy was listening in the slightest, he brushed tender finger's through Jasper's hair, and said, "That is your decision to make. Will you raise your son exclusively in the name of Lancechester, or will you steer his actions, his personality away from the past? Majority of sons strive to follow in their father's footsteps, so if you show there is kindness that can come with such a title as Lancechester, perhaps he will understand the purpose of benevolence."