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

XV - Namesake

Timothy awoke in the middle of the night to find himself alone. He and Jasper had gone to bed together early on in the night, but it seemed the Master had gotten up.

Again.

It'd been a month and a half since young Ava Goode moved into the manor. She was a bit of a rowdy girl, certainly not like what many young ladies of the nobility were typically looked upon as. Dainty, proper, delicate and rather timid, Ava was lively during the day, and was practically a shadow that followed Jasper everywhere he went. Just like the day before. They'd all taken a trip to the city, and while Darcy and Juliette had wanted to take the girl to shop with them, Ava refused to separate herself from the Master. At this time of night, there was only one place Timothy was sure they'd be.

After waiting a couple more minutes to see if Jasper would join him, when half an hour ticked by, Timothy went ahead and got out of bed. He was in the trousers he'd been wearing during the day, dark hair tied back out of his face. All of the servants were away in their beds, Lady Darcy and Juliette fast asleep as well, and when he reached the second floor, he caught the glow of candlelight coming from the library.

Timothy neared the archway and peered inside, spotting a candle lit beside Jasper's new sofa he'd replaced the previous single chair with. When he entered the library, he stopped beside the Master's left and smiled. The blond man was silently reading a book in his hands, and Ava was lounging closely beside him, her rose-head on his lap as she'd fallen asleep after asking the Master to read her a story. She was in her nightgown, tresses muddled as she snored lightly, and she looked very comfortable snuggled up with the Master.

"Jasper," Timothy kept his voice low, drawing the man's attention from the book. "Come to bed."

With a smile, the Master marked his page and looked up at the dark-haired man. He set his book aside then and placed a hand atop the girl's hair. Touching his fingers lightly through it, he thought momentarily on their night together. "She wanted a story after we finished our sweets," he said.

Timothy nodded and carefully tucked his arms under Ava to lift her. She was like a feather against him. "I will put her to bed," he offered as Jasper stood, watching him stretch as he yawned sleepily. "You head up to the bedroom."

When he received a nod, Jasper stayed behind to put back the books he'd taken down. Timothy held Ava caringly as he took her upstairs. All he really knew about her was that she was the younger sister of Elijah, and just looking at her, he could see the resemblance she had to him from the portrait. He was glad she'd come to Jasper for help, not only because that meant she wouldn't be alone, but having her in the manor with all of them brought a sort of readiness toward becoming a father.

Jasper often spoke of his wariness of raising the son or daughter Darcy would have, but Ava's presence acted as a mild trial, and the way the Master was with her never failed to display his love for children. He was always considerate of her, to the things she liked and disliked, becoming accustomed to her mannerisms, the young girl's personality, but there was something else Timothy was pretty sure made it easier for Jasper and Ava to get along. And that was their connection to Elijah. From Ava's point of view, she likely wanted to get to know qualities about her brother, and while all of that couldn't be taught through the Master himself, there was still something left to learn about Elijah through the person he'd loved in life. If Ava could decipher what made Jasper...Jasper, then she could absorb all that once drew Elijah to the nobleman, and what kept their love from being tainted.

Jasper, on the other, Timothy was more than sure he was taking care of Ava for Elijah, as a final opportunity to do right by the young man he'd loved so long ago and still did.

Always would.

When he reached the little girl's bedroom, Timothy carefully opened the door and pushed it with his hip. He went to the canopy bed against the east wall of the blue and white decorated room, placing her softly down before covering her. This one growing girl was somewhat of a handful for the Master, but he never let it be shown, always only showcasing his understanding and composure to her, and the dark-haired man was content that she could somehow unconsciously display to the Master that he could be a father.