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There was nothing in the world that could be better than this. Bertie whistled a soft tune under his breath as he sat down on the bench beneath the spreading tree, staring out at the expanse of fresh-mown grass and the country house he was visiting in the distance.
Well, yes, actually, there was some*one* who could make it better still. Someone whose very scent, the very odor that hung about him, spoke of refinement and gentle virtue, the dedication of a life given to service.
“Jeeves!” Bertie jumped as the man shimmered out of nowhere, impeccably dressed as always. Bertie’s mouth took on a teasing pout, tinged with mock hurt: “I thought you’d never get here!”
“My apologies, sir,” Jeeves said, and moved to sit down next to Bertie. “I was merely preparing – if it was indeed an afternoon of delight you were wishing -” he held back a branch of the tree so that Bertie could see amongst the bracken, a blanket laid in the cool shade and a basket inviting him to eat.
Bertie leaned in to kiss Jeeves softly on the lips. “You are a marvel,” he simply said.