Chapter Thirty-Seven
What ho! Early chapter, anyone? I'm going to be in London until Tuesday (to see Stephen Fry for the second time - yes, like Jack, I'm a show-off), and while I will have access to a computer I can't guarantee I won't be having too much fun to forget about uploading. So I'm playing it safe, but I'll be able to reply to messages and reviews on my phone.
I finally succumbed to a LiveJournal account and when I feel brave enough to work out how to use it, I'll be uploading all my stories there as well. My name on there is, as always, furiousdee (bastard capital letter-hating sites), should you wish to befriend me.
Farewell for now, sweet minions!
Driving through Powys at dusk reminded Ianto yet again of just how gloriously beautiful his homeland was. The roads were, as usual, mostly empty and the only company for miles was sheep, more sheep, and the occasional pheasant. He found himself smiling foolishly into the horizon, wondering whether he had ever felt so free in his life. A light mist was descending on the endless greenery; he would need the more powerful headlights on the way back to Ystradgynlais, but for the moment it was clear enough to see without them. Besides, to Ianto, the changeable weather was a vast part of Wales' charm and he desired the full experience.
The building which housed the South Wales branch of The Harwood Society was as neat and unpretentious as the gentlemen who gathered within it, and Ianto took a certain kind of joy from handing Jack's car over to a younger, greener valet. At Ystradgynlais, the family's driver had taken the car from Ianto on Jack's behalf – tonight, Ianto was his own master.
"Young Mr. Jones!" a chorus of voices greeted him as he stepped into the foyer, around forty other men loitering with straight backs and muted suits.
"Gentlemen" Ianto nodded, a bright smile gracing his face. He had been Young Mr. Jones ever since he had his first uniform cut, as Mr. Jones was his father. Ianto had a feeling he would remain so even when he was fifty years old. He shook hands with several people he recognised and a few he didn't, aware that many of them had known his father and allowing them to tell him little anecdotes he'd heard a hundred times with an indulgent, detached expression.
"Well now, it looks as if that's everyone" a man Ianto recognised as Mr. Dekker, the appointed patriarch of the society, announced. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room, gentlemen?"
Supper was an exceedingly civilised affair, the group split between four large round tables. Ianto sat between two valets similar to his own age and after the food was consumed they discussed literature, history, music – he was in cultural heaven.
"Of course, musical theatre is killing off true stage drama" Mr. Davidson scoffed, his lip curled with disdain.
"Oh, undoubtedly. There's nothing less worthy of gracing the boards" Mr. Smith replied, at which point Ianto felt it necessary to interject.
"I disagree, gentlemen. Musical theatre brings the very concept to a broader audience and opens their minds to further adventures into the live acting world. If anything is going to kill stage drama, it will be film. Even then, I find it unlikely."
The men either side of him fell silent, before Mr. Smith raised an eyebrow and asked with suspicion, "who are you working for again, Mr. Jones?"
Ianto slightly resented the implication that he couldn't disagree with his peers without outside influence, but he took a moment to lift his chin, readying himself for their reactions when he stated quite clearly "Mr. Harkness."
"You're still with him, Mr. Jones?" Mr. Dekker interrupted, having suddenly turned to Ianto from the opposite side of the table on overhearing Jack's distinctive surname.
"Shouldn't I be?" Ianto replied – somewhat cheekily, he realised with an inward wince.
"Nobody has lasted that long with Mr. Harkness" an ageing butler said gravely.
"He can be a challenge" Ianto replied honestly, "but he is a good man. I believe that I have influenced and enhanced his gentlemanly side with some success."
He grinned, allowing himself a moment to feel justifiably proud. A few of his colleagues looked unconvinced, while others seemed impressed. The conversation around him had died down somewhat as he became the centre of attention.
"I hear he's thicker than two short planks" Mr. Davidson stated bluntly in all seriousness, and Ianto shook his head.
"Not at all, he is vastly intelligent and his love for the simpler things in life should not be a reflection of his entire character."
"Mr. Jones, he has been hiring valets since he was twenty-one and I've yet to hear such praise from any of your predecessors" Mr. Dekker said, one eyebrow firmly raised.
"Then I've simply been successful where they have not, Mr. Dekker. Mr. Harkness and I are simply an excellent match. I wished for a challenge, and I believe he required somebody a little closer to his own age to stabilise him without making him feel like a chastised child."
Ianto knew he was probably pushing his luck, as there were surely men in the room who had tried and failed with Jack, but he wasn't going to apologise for his own victory. He was telling the truth in saying that he and Jack were a fine match – in every way, his mind added – and they always had been despite their little disagreements. Although the last time he'd attended a Harwood Society meeting had been only a month after meeting Jack, they already had an intense working relationship by then and were easy companions. It had been instant, and it had grown. And grown, and grown...
Two or three men chuckled, while a couple more huffed indignantly and turned back to their own conversations. Ianto was relieved.
"Well then, Mr. Jones, I must congratulate you for working your magic on a previously lost cause" Mr. Dekker said, nodding his acknowledgement. "I hope to see for myself one day precisely how you have wrangled a gentlemen out of him."
"Blind determination, Mr. Dekker" Ianto replied, smiling again with his triumph.
"Perhaps an addition to the book is required?" the older man suggested, and Ianto remembered his promise to look up Geraint Cooper and John Ellis' past entries. You really are forgetful today, Ianto he admonished himself.
"Absolutely" he said with conviction, and Mr. Dekker motioned for one of the trainee butlers to fetch it.
The book was the one truly ostentatious reflection of the society; thick, with embossed leather and gold-edged pages. Ribbons in varying colours marked different areas of South Wales, and within those were the hand-written profiles and notes of all masters who hired from the agency which The Harwood Society worked with.
Ianto slid his glass aside and lowered the enormous volume gently onto the table in front of him, running his fingers over the edges of the paper until he found Jack's section. He swiftly re-acquainted himself with the few facts and past notes; those mentions of the elusive Doc Smith, of other friends' names he recognised, of engagements and Aunt Alice and absolute drunken laziness. Ianto had to smirk at the last entry, written in his own hand: Mr. Harkness shows great promise as a master and as a gentleman. Life with him is never dull.
Just as he looked up to ask for a pen, one was placed in his palm and he nodded at the frightened-looking young man in thanks (remembering when he had been in such a position for his father's gatherings). After a few moments of thought, he began to write:
'Mr. Harkness now displays dignity, humility, civility and conscience. His behaviour has calmed dramatically, and since employing myself he has drifted from previous negative influences (most notably Dr. Owen Harper and gin). Mr. 'Doc' Smith has not been mentioned more than once or seen at all during our time together. Mr. Harkness also limits his marriage engagements to as few as is polite, and calls on my aid when he finds himself in need of it (the two often correlate).'
'Since my appointment to Mr. Harkness, he has become entangled with Miss Gwen Cooper, Lady Toshiko Sato and 'Miss Harriet Derbyshire' (true name unknown). All three were dealt with by myself in ways that I felt would result in the least emotional strain for Mr. Harkness.'
An often-silent, very childish, and extremely wicked part of Ianto's mind longed to add 'Mr. Harkness and I have become such close companions that we spend many of our nights buggering each other silly', but he thought it unwise. That rogue idea also made him realise just how heavily Jack was influencing him in turn; that the personality changes were not as one-sided as his entry implied. He felt relaxed in himself, even here – already he had disagreed with important members of The Harwood Society, spoken in front of a rapt audience without self-consciousness and been downright cheeky in front of Mr. Dekker. Without Jack's infectious confidence, he wouldn't have felt able to do any of it. The sudden memory loss, however, he could live without. I'm all for relaxation, but the day I become as skittish as Jack...
'I do not hesitate to call Mr. Harkness a friend as well as a master. He treats me with the utmost respect and requests my opinion on any given subject, usually accepting my advice with good grace. I have no intention of leaving his employ for as long as he requires me'
With that, Ianto screwed the lid back onto the pen with a sense of satisfied finality. He took a moment to scan his assessment once more, before glancing around at the otherwise occupied colleagues surrounding him and quickly flicking his way to backwards to Geraint Cooper's chapter. While neither Geraint nor John longer kept a valet any longer, Ianto knew for certain that they had done in the past and from what he had heard, they were both fierce and tenacious men, intensely aware of their place above 'the help'. As such, there had to be some unsavoury clues to be discovered...
Ianto was disappointed by the lack of general information on Geraint Cooper. It looked as though he had the same valet for thirty years, one who was loyal and wrote only the barest of reviews – none of which were useful, so Ianto continued onwards to John Ellis. The details on Ellis were also scant, but on scanning the words, there it was – an absolute gem of a fact, almost overlooked, that could prove invaluable. That wouldn't go down well with his beloved Miracle Day, Ianto thought with a badly-suppressed grin. He wasn't sure how the information could be used, but certainly it would eliminate any fear of him for all concerned if drastic action was required as the wedding loomed.
Ianto had to wonder why he willingly became so involved in the little problems of Jack's acquaintances. It had been a pattern right from the start, as if Ianto partially belonged to any of his master's friends by association. The truth was, whether it completely exasperated him at times or not it was... fun. When he saved Jack or Jack's friends in ever-elaborate and always comical circumstances he was playing at being a young man – something he'd never had much of a chance to do. That's how Jack makes me feel... youthful and carefree.
With his job done, Ianto closed the book once more and leaned back in his seat, accepting a small measure of brandy for the road. As much as he enjoyed being with the other members of The Harwood Society, he felt a tugging urge to be with Jack again and as the evening wound down, he made his excuses with a promise to attend more regularly.
The drive back to Ystradgynlais was again an enjoyable one, the night calm aside from Jack's car disturbing the mist, and Ianto sighed with contentment as the hall came into view. The Cooper household was quiet but for the low sounds of piano-playing and conversation; Ianto knew that Jack wouldn't be part of whatever casual festivities were occurring tonight, and so silently ascended the winding staircase to his master's room.
Though not long after ten, he found Jack asleep with a bedside lamp still on, not in his usual splayed disarray of limbs but curled protectively around one of his pillows. Ianto made sure to lock the door behind him and knelt down beside the bed, taking a moment to look at Jack's relaxed face in dim lamplight before lightly kissing his lips, then his nose, then his forehead until finally his master stirred.
"Ianto" Jack sighed with a grin before even opening his eyes.
"We would be in a great deal of trouble had it been somebody else kissing you then, sir" Ianto replied dryly, and Jack playfully swiped at his shoulder, now gazing back at his lover.
"I don't accept kisses from anybody else, Jones... and nobody has ever kissed me like that" he said, his stare as warm as his sleep-softened skin.
Ianto smiled back, feeling oddly shy as he took Jack's wandering hand.
"Long evening, sir?"
"Oh yeah... Jingo never stops talking... even whilst eating" Jack groaned. "But we spent a good couple of hours thinking up things about Cooper and Ellis that he can silently mock. He already seems so much more confident, you know... happier. You have that effect on people, young Mr. Jones."
Ianto's eyebrows instantly rose and Jack's expression turned questioning.
"Sorry, sir... just a strange coincidence; the other members of The Harwood Society call me 'Young Mr. Jones'."
"I'm sure they always will, what with your pretty little baby-face" Jack teased, succeeding in prompting one of Ianto's best eye-rolls.
"So, did you find anything out about Ellis?"
"Yes, sir."
"Am I allowed to know what it is?"
"I believe it to be in your best interests if you remain ignorant of the fact for now, sir. It is only to be used should the situation become severe."
"I see... and did you update my chapter in this book of yours?"
"Yes, sir. As favourably as you deserve."
"Uh-oh" Jack smirked, before kissing Ianto's lips. "Come on, get into bed before you ruin your knees."
Ianto stood and quickly divested himself of his jacket, tie and shoes, finding himself tugged down onto the mattress before he could do anything more. He knew that Jack loved peeling him out of his uniform, and as they kissed, he felt his employer's fingers deftly unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt.
"What was it you said about taking advantage of thick doors, Ianto Jones?" Jack murmured, his breath hot against Ianto's ear as he cascaded kisses from chin to shoulder.
"Just that – the rest is up to you tonight, sir" Ianto replied, a soft moan escaping his lips when Jack sucked at his throat in his excitement over being offered free reign on a plate. He lifted his achingly handsome face and stared hard at Ianto, pupils blown wide and cheeks already flushed.
"Damn the sir... say my name" he demanded in a growl, and Ianto smirked, watching the muscles in Jack's jaw tighten as he struggled to restrain himself from simply attacking.
"Jack" he moaned, thickening and deepening his accent for the full aural assault. His lover growled breathlessly and dipped his head to Ianto's chest, nuzzling the dark hair before biting hard on a nipple.
Ahh, it's going to be one of those nights, Ianto thought with illicit delight, relaxing completely as he relinquished any semblance of control. When did it become so very easy to give all of myself to Jack?
"Stop thinking. Relax" Jack's hoarse but affectionate voice cut into his thoughts and Ianto laughed, lifting his hands in surrender as Jack tugged open his trousers.
"I'm all yours, Jack" he murmured, catching the intense pride in his lover's face before it morphed into a filthy grin.
"Yes you are, Ianto."