I should be devoting all my time to my other story Were it Not For the Stars but that story is so boring and not anywhere near as fun to write as a Regency AU. I mean, come on! I am obsessed with Jane Austen in the trashiest way possible. This isn't going to be super historically accurate but it should be fun. I did do a ton of research to get some of the details right.

If this were an episodic drama the theme song would be Attaboy from the Goat Rodeo Sessions. Please give it a listen to get in the right mood to picture Tony's glorious country estate.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Marvel's.


Chapter One - A True Likeness

Anthony Stark, affectionately called Tony by his father, gazed longingly out of the window. The sun was shining so exuberantly that day and the copse of trees outside his manor looked so inviting. The country was truly the most wonderful thing to behold within the entire expanse of the British Empire. Anyone who said otherwise only did so to impress other London-dwelling social climbers. He so desired to traipse outside with his gun and his clever looking wide brimmed hat, where he might fail at killing a rabbit or two before retiring with a glass of Port and a cigar. But alas, he had chosen a different fate for himself on this day. For on this day, Tony Stark was stuck inside with a very persistent itch on his nose.

It would be impossible, of course, for him to soothe the nagging itch for some time now, it behooved Tony to stand still while having his likeness carved out of marble. He stood upon his desk, limbs stretched and tense, mimicking a Greek athlete at the height of action. Worse than that was the draft in the room. This was the most troubling of his complaints. Like a Greek athlete, he was completely in the nude, much to the dismay of his servants.

"Jarvis!" He barked. The little squinting man chipping away at the marble yelped at the disturbance and dropped his chisel. It thumped onto the fine wood of the floor which echoed throughout the entire study.

"Yes, Master Stark?" The middle aged steward enunciated. He was stilted and refined in appearance, with the slightest bit of gray disrupting his severe, dark sideburns. Many a young lady had even commented on his being peculiarly handsome. The volume of Tony's outcry was completely unnecessary. Edwin Jarvis, Tony's steward since he inherited his father's estate, had been standing quite near him the entire time. Tony hadn't realized this because he couldn't turn his head or look in any direction other than out that blasted window.

"What am I doing here?" Tony inquired patiently, his voice much gentler.

"Am I to answer your question as literally as possible or are you wishing to discuss existential matters?" The weary steward replied.

"Well, as interesting as the latter sounds, I think I'll, instead, clarify my statement. Why did you let me commission this piece?" Tony's tone became more impatient as he spoke.

"Sir, I tried to talk you into doing a bust but you insisted upon recreating The Discobolus."

At those words, Tony's sweating palms began to mock him. The discus he had been holding slipped from his aching grasp. Tony scrambled to grab the falling prop and lost his balance, tumbling to the floor alongside the discus. Only, where the discus put a dent in the walnut floor, the floor had put a bit of a dent in Tony. He groaned, a naked, face down mass of pitiful man on the floor. The sculptor huffed and crossed his arms.

"Upon my word, I thought I might have heard you laughing at me, Jarvis." He mumbled, his face pressed into the floor.

"Impossible, sir. That would be highly disrespectful." His voice cracked slightly at the end of his sentence with amusement. Tony was about to fire off a witty response but he was interrupted by Chadwick, one of his footmen.

"Dr. Banner has arrived, sir. Shall I send him in?" Chadwick announced. Tony was about to stand to tell him absolutely not but Chadwick had addressed Jarvis. Unfortunately, he couldn't see his master crumpled on the floor behind the desk he had been posing on.

"Please, Chadwick. Master Stark is very eager to see him." Jarvis droned. Tony's limbs reacted as if they were struck by lightning. He yelled for Chadwick to turn around immediately but he was already out the door. That man had the most damnable trait of being timely and compliant. Tony couldn't possibly go running after him now. Stark was stark naked! He pointed an accusatory finger at Jarvis and narrowed his eyes.

"You- you- Who made you like this, Jarvis? Or has it been your sole mission since you sprang forth from the frothing lakes of Hell, to antagonize me?" Jarvis raised an arch eyebrow at his master.

"Should you not be concerned with finding your trousers, sir?" Tony's eyebrows shot up and he scanned the room, completely mystified as to where he left his clothing. It didn't matter, he was too late. He could hear Dr. Banner's boots thudding down the hallway.

"I won't forget this." He hissed at his bemused servant. The heavy oak door swung open. Bruce stepped in with Chadwick in tow. The bespectacled professor was smiling, but only for a moment.

"Good God!" He sputtered. He put a hand over his eyes. Tony was standing in the middle of his study, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. He held the discus in both hands over his groin.

"Banner, old boy." He smoothly drawled. "How good it is to see you again."

"I-I appear to be disrupting this afternoon's activities." Bruce said. He sounded as if the life might have left his body. "My apologies Mr. Stark."

"Yes, well, I find it refreshing to take a turn about my study in the nude every once in awhile. It really aids one in scholarly pursuits." Tony expounded. "You should tell your students back at Oxford of this little trick. They might find the information relevant to their interests!"

"I'm going to take three paces backward, shut the door, and try to purge this from my memory. Forever." Bruce explained. His hand was still shielding his eyes.

"Surely, you won't leave so soon? I haven't even inquired after your mother's health!" Tony called as Bruce started his careful walk back.

"My mother died three years ago, Stark. Suffice it to say, she is not well."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, my friend." Tony sounded genuinely concerned. Bruce scoffed.

"I'm shutting the door now!" He declared loudly.

"Very good, very good. I was just about to see to the nasty business of terminating Jarvis's employment." Tony called out into the hallway where he could hear Bruce's footsteps retreating.

"Please, not another word until you have trousers on, sir!" His friend's voice echoed down the hallway. Tony let the amiable smile he had been wearing melt away. He inhaled through his nostrils sharply and glared at his steward.

"You are so very fortunate, Jarvis, that my father loved you and that I am such a kind and gentle employer or else I would dismiss you this instant." Tony pontificated.

"Of course, sir." There was a long silence between the two men. Tony was still covering himself with the discus.

"Say, Jarvis, you wouldn't happen to know where those damnable trousers of mine have got to?" He asked, conversationally.

"In a fit of excitement, you abandoned them in the billiard room." Tony fought his embarrassment.

"You have my gratitude, you cruel imp-man." Tony jibed. Jarvis tilted his head downward slightly, a gesture of subservience. The master of the manor then turned to his footman. "Oh, Chadwick?"

"Yes, sir?" The tall man stood at attention.

"Your wig has gone askew. Fix it, please. You look ridiculous." The naked Stark said this and then turned to exit his study, not bothering to spare his servants the pain of seeing his bare ass retreating out of the room.


I won't be updating this one on a schedule. This one will be updated when I am already properly inspired and feel like I can do the premise justice.