Chapter 8
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 7
Darcy thought she’d have to force herself to eat the weird things but all it took was getting out of sight and the smell was overpowering. She doesn’t care about her manners or the lack of cutlery, she just has to stuff them into her mouth, they’re warm… she doesn’t want to know if that’s from an oven or from being otherwise fresh, it’s just, she can’t stop, one after the other, licks her fingers, licks the plate, more? But they’re gone, completely gone and finally she comes to her senses enough to realise what she did. The platter doesn’t clatter when she drops it into the grass, scrambles away from it to the other side of the stone bench, draws her knees up and holds herself as the tears start rolling, as the horror of the reality of what she is sets fully in.
Still crying when Pretty walks up to her, she pulls her only friend close, cries into his fur. She doesn’t want to be out here, she wants her room, she wants her papa, she doesn’t want to be a monster. She doesn’t care if Papa lied, if Uncle Jekyll wasn’t treating her for a blood disease. She doesn’t care! She does not care! She wants her life back no matter that she knows that the guards gossiped. She could hear them talk sometimes about “Jekyll’s doll”, about the little missy locked up in her room.
She likes her room, she likes the bars on the windows! She felt safe and loved in that room. Out here she feels small and scared and aimless. In her room she just had to follow the plan her papa set for her, learn what a lady is supposed to learn, etiquette and music and embroidery. He kept her safe, he kept her happy. All she needed to do was do as told, be an obedient daughter, and everything would always be alright. Her papa loves her and he must be so very worried.
She’s worried, too, she didn’t know people were so very scary! She doesn’t like having to talk to them, she thought it would be a good idea to be hostess, to be mistress of the house but now she can’t hide, now she has to talk to the boys! Even if Gregory means well, and she’s not convinced of that, he is strange and scary. Arthur… she guesses Arthur is okay. He’s shy, he likes books and, when he gets really absorbed he has that little strand of hair fall into his face and he’s so distracted that he needs several attempts to brush it back. It’s endearing! It makes him seem less scary.
Gregory is the scary one, he always pushes. He really must be Arthur’s servant, he’s definitely lower class, he doesn’t have any manners at all. Maybe he thinks she is just a pampered little missy so he has to do everything because she can’t get anything right. Maybe he’s even right but still, she wouldn’t hurt Arthur. Why would he even think that? All she did was try to be a good hostess, be helpful and friendly around Arthur earlier.
Sighing into Pretty’s fur she tries to make any sense of all of this. She definitely wasn’t even thinking of blood when she went to the kitchen. If he wasn’t always so pushy, if he didn’t have to torment her she didn’t have to deal with this! Maybe he’s being lewd, it’s seems pretty lewd to want her to kiss his finger. But he also did look hurt when she called him a monster. Maybe he doesn’t want to be the only monster? Maybe that’s what he’s trying to push her towards.
If he’s a monster, and definitely lower class, didn’t she read somewhere that some animals… birds, it was birds, they shove the young out of the nest and if they can’t fly they’ll just let them fall to their death. This out here is a harsh world and a lower class monster would be harsh. He’s probably just testing if it’s even worth it putting any effort towards her.
With another sigh she squeezes Pretty. She can’t even blame Gregory if that’s what he’s doing. She… she’s a dhampir, shouldn’t that mean she should be all predatory and powerful? She’s not even a good monster, she’s just Darcy. The Darcy who thinks this world out here is so, so much more scary than any monsters, really, the scary thing are people, you have to talk to them and she really doesn’t like doing that apparently. It’s all just so confusing and frightening and she doesn’t want any of that anymore! So she does the only sensible thing, carries Pretty to her new room, closes the curtains because she doesn’t have any bars to make her feel safe, curls up on the bed and sticks her face into Pretty’s fur to try to shut the big, scary world out.
~~~~
Gregory finds Arthur after lunch in the library and informs him that Darcy fell asleep.
Arthur takes this occasion to bring up how he’s not sure about this whole thing of Gregory pretending to be her cat, but Gregory waves his concerns away- he’s doing it for her, she’s so upset and she feels better when he’s Pretty. It’s a way for him to be there for her despite these silly social rules. And on the topic of bedrooms, he assures Arthur that he doesn’t think of her like that when he’s Pretty- he’s a cat when he’s a cat, so it isn’t like he’s doing anything bad.
That’s as much detail as Arthur wants on that topic, and he lets it go.
Instead, he brings up how he’s been thinking how Darcy can go out and about without bad rumours, and in general how they can protect her reputation.
And the only thing he can think of is- well, if one of them pretended to be her fiance, then it would all look okay and she’d be safe from bad repercussions.
And he’s done some research on noble sons Gregory could pretend to be that wouldn’t raise any flags or get them easily exposed.
Gregory thinks it’s a great idea, but grins at him. “How about you, maybe you should do it!”
“No!” Arthur says immediately. “No!” Gregory’s grin says he might get that stuck in his head and hound him about it if Arthur doesn’t immediately cut him off- and the idea has his entire being bristle with fear and denial. He has horror visions of having to talk to noble people, being noticed, being in the spotlight, having to be social- and, worse, pretending to anything romantic. With a girl. The idea sends icy tendrils of terror through him and he shoves it out of his head. No- no way in hell is he going to volunteer for that.
He has a moment of doubt when they have Gregory all dressed up, and he struts around in a caricature of a noble, takes Arthur’s hand with a “How do you do, old boy!”, overly pompous and clearly mocking.
He’s really far too gleeful about the whole thing, and Arthur hisses at him to take it seriously, tries to impress on him how much depends on him being able to sell this.
Gregory assures him he does understand, and Arthur doesn’t know whether he believes him- but whatever doubts he has, he’s certain that if he himself did it, he would be monumentally worse. And also, pretending to be in a relationship with a girl- even if it’s pretending! No!
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Darcy realizes that at some point, she must have fallen asleep because she wakes from a knock and Pretty is nowhere to be seen. The knock is perpetrated by Arthur, okay, maybe it won’t be that bad. She follows him to a salon only to startle back. They put Gregory into a proper gentleman’s outfit and he feigns having manners, even gives her a hand kiss. Arthur explains that with him as a fake fiancé there won’t be a problem with her going out. They looked up war heroes and picked one who’s missing in action, this is his esteemed son. Does she think this could work?
He doesn’t get an answer because Darcy explodes with shock and dismay, turns on the spot and rushes back to the library. How dare they?! And Gregory. Gregory?! She wouldn’t fake being engaged to him if he was the last man on the planet! He’s lower class! He can pretend to have manners like that. Why would he be able to do that? Oh no, he must be some sort of criminal, maybe he’s even deceiving Arthur. She won’t do it, no! She has to read up on Arthur’s family tree to show him that he’s the much better option, it’s only logical… and he’s less scary, too.
~~~~
Arthur looks after her, confused and not sure why she’s upset now, seeing as she only glared at them and declared “No!” and stormed off.
That’s why he’s not good with people. And especially not girls. He just doesn’t understand how they work. There’s no rules, everything is subjective and arbitrary.
Why can’t people be rational and logical? Here he’d thought he’d found a solution to a problem, but apparently not.
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Darcy’s hope is short-lived as it turns out that the name Lancaster might sound nobler than Cobb, but Arthur is not only lower class, he’s the son of a criminal! Furious about that deception Darcy shrieks at the book, and the heavy table, and at the entire world, eyes sparking red and the table going flying as she in frustration had put her hands under it. She stares at what she just did… and now she does feel her hunger roar back to life. She’s had it! “Llew!” Marching around yelling for him until he finally shows up she orders him to the kitchen, she wants more cakes, she’ll be in the library, finishing that blasted book about the Lancasters.
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Llew is definitely not going to say no when she looks ready to devour him if he doesn’t jump so he scurries off, goes find Arthur because some healing might be a good idea if they’ll be bloodletting themselves again.
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Arthur is happy to help with some healing, but hearing that Darcy is looking into his family makes him wince- that can’t end well.
And it doesn’t, when he takes her the blood cakes, she gives him a tongue lashing. What was he thinking? No, she won’t accept that silly, fake fiancé and, she starts sniffling, and she thought he was better but he lied to her, too. He’s just like Gregory, lower class and a lying scoundrel.
Arthur ducks his head, because… well, what is he supposed to say to that? He’s well-aware, the only thing that surprises him is that she apparently didn’t realize, he thought he was perfectly obvious with that, that it was clear he was faking the manners and all of it. Given that he even researched them in front of her…
But he doesn’t get to try and explain, not that he’s sure there’s any point, but Eluned appears again, pulls Darcy aside.
~~~~
It’ll be alright, she tells Darcy. She’s legitimate to her human subjects anyway, she doesn’t need the boys’ ploy, she just needs to be secure in herself, in being the baroness. Let them do the dirty work for her, that’s what men are good for anyway. Darcy is still deeply emotional, complains bitterly that this is a terrible fairy tale, real life is so much worse than any lies. But yes, she knows that won’t help, she’ll do her duty, sorry.
~~~~
Arthur fidgets as he waits for Gregory to come back from listening in on Darcy and Eluned- he’s not entirely comfortable with the snooping, but on the other hand… he feels like he can use any advantage and information he can get.
Not that Gregory reports much useful things- Darcy would have preferred if they’d lied to her instead of her being in on the fiance thing being a pretense? What? For once he and Gregory are in agreement on the topic of girls- they’re weird.
Gregory offers to go back to talk to Darcy, since they still need to go to Newholm and coordinate all of that, and Arthur is glad enough to leave that to him and hide behind his social skills. Especially after having gotten further proof that he himself just doesn’t get it, just isn’t any good at it.
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Darcy feels only deep distrust and coldness when Gregory approaches her again, but yes, she will cooperate, even though he is a swindler. The pained look at that nearly makes her crack, but only nearly, as she allows him to escort her to the stables, she’ll have to learn how to ride if she is to present the confident noble Lady on their excursion to Newholm the following day.
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As nice as the learning to ride the fey horses had been as horrid is the dinner table for Darcy. She tries, she really tries to be a proper hostess, to lead the small talk and conversation, to be friendly and charming but she’s strained to the edge of her ability before even dessert. Hoping the sweets will distract the boys she excuses herself, manages not to run until she’s out of sight and then hides in the music room (Gregory takes it upon himself to follow her in cat-guise), but the harp feels familiar, feels safe.
Not safe enough, sleep won’t come when she tosses in bed not much later, the thought of actually having to be in front of maybe a whole village the next day is just too much. Giving up she throws more clothes on and decides to wander the maze, at least there she feels alone, it’s not bars on her windows, but at least it’s away from the other people.
~~~~
Of course, Gregory is again keeping an eye on her, just to make sure, one never knows, so he pads after her on soft cat paws only to stare after a short while. The further Darcy walks into the night the more animals she seems to attract, at first it had been moths flitting around her head, some of those got snatched up by bats swooping low, then mice started running up to Darcy. For a moment Gregory was sure she would shriek again, that’s what girls do about mice, after all, but no, she smiles! A real smile! He didn’t know how that looked on her, but there she is, kneeling to scoop the mice up, twirls them around and asks them if they’ve ever heard from maybe some distant family in London. She misses her mouse friends!
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Forgetting her fear for the moment Darcy starts giggling, tries to pet any animal that will come up to her and they all do, she soon looks like she is wearing a leathery crown from bats settling on her hair, apparently enjoying the petting she gives each of them with obvious delight.
Pretty decides to get closer, he wants to see her better when she’s so happy and she giggles at him. “Pretty! You can’t eat any of my mice friends!” Just to make sure her cat doesn’t get any ideas she pulls him into her arms and holds him tight but then sighs. She wishes everything could be this easy, this feels like a fairy tale, like a story she wants to be a part of. Oh why couldn’t the boys have given her a story? And why did it have to be Gregory? She could have accepted Arthur, he’s quiet, she likes that, but loud, impulsive, rambunctious Gregory? No. And why couldn’t they have sweetened the lie?
Would a bit of nice story have hurt that much? A bit of courting and some lies to make her believe he’s some kind of cursed monster prince. Sure, she would deep down have known it’s a lie but it would have been a nice lie. Like in Beauty and Beast. He could have been her Beast, maybe with her guiding female hand he could have become a prince from a cursed beggar. Sighing again she shakes her head. It doesn’t matter, her life isn’t that nice kind of fairy tale, she wonders if it’s a fairy tale to caution people with.
People. That’s another sigh and she hold a hand out for the moth that kept circling to land. She cares for these people here, much more than those villagers she’s supposed to safe tomorrow. She knows this isn’t normal, maybe, maybe this is because she’s a monster? Looking around she makes sure, yes, all of the animals around her are night active, maybe it’s because vampires are night active. Maybe it’s a gift from her mother?
She stares at the stars for a long moment then a calm settles over her as she closes her eyes. The world out there means lies but here under the moon she doesn’t have to lie. And under the moon she’s with her animal friends, her fellow creatures of the night. If that is what being a monster means then maybe she actually prefers it over being human. She’d rather be one of her friends than one of the scary human people out there. “I can be me. I don’t have to be a lady. I can simply be one more monster in the dark.”