Chapter 62
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 61
Everything is wonderful, she’s surrounded by a happy smell and the bed is warm. Darcy’s arms are a bit sore but that’s perfectly alright, it’s not Daddy’s fault for being so big that she has to stretch to hug him. It’s so, so nice to sleep next to a loved one and Daddy is the comfiest!
The loud knock on the door makes her growl under her breath, she knows Daddy doesn’t like waking up, she must protect him! There it is again, and something is scratching at her… She’s awake with a start, that’s Gregory’s voice, in her head again: Cussing her out to tell these stupid people that of course he belongs here!
This time she half falls out of bed as the servant finally just gets inside. Oh no, what are they possibly thinking? And how can Daddy sleep right through all of that? But she’s up, she really is, and the servant is talking to her anyway. There’s a… vagrant at the door loudly insisting he’s her husband. How would she like them to deal with him? He’s causing a scene and they don’t want her reputation to suffer from that.
She wishes she could tell them to send him away, but now that she’s fully awake and with the voice in her head, all she can do is blush in embarrassment. Her drac is telling her the truth of the situation, too. No, no, that probably is really her husband. She’ll be right down. She’s so sorry for the disturbance. So very sorry.
Running over to her room, painfully aware that she needs to make sure to slow herself down so she’s not suspiciously fast, Darcy tries to be even remotely presentable. It’s not much, but a few brush strokes through her hair and adjusting the slippers on her feet, and making sure the house robe over her sleeping gown is closed tight and as little of her skin as possible is showing.
By the time she rushes onwards down to the entrance, she knows that Gregory has made it inside and yes, he is looking around as if this is his place. Grasps her and forces a kiss on her, too, declaring loudly that, see, of course he’s the husband. Why wouldn’t he be?
Darcy can feel the looks of the servants burning on her skin the very same way as she could feel the nobles’ look at her official wedding. She feels so helpless and powerless about what to do. Social situations are scary and words are hard, so she just gives Gregory a pleading look and tells him it’s nice that he missed her. That’s why he came, she thinks, right?
He just grins at her and asks where the kitchen is, when he heard she’s missing, he rushed over.
Oh no, no no no, he can’t give them away! Maybe he heard that in his head because he gives her a surprised look, and when he’s opening his mouth, she just drags him along. Where can she talk? Oh no, this is bad. She follows her nose, her papa will know, he must. Please, help! She doesn’t want to be bad for Daddy! Something about what she’s doing must have Gregory intrigued, he’s just following after her, quiet for once, eyes fixed on her… Why does he suddenly remind her of Llew?
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The first thing Arthur knows of anything is the hurried steps outside the door, and then Darcy bursting in, looking… frantic? And isn’t it a bit early for her to be up? But then he sees Gregory behind her, and- oh, right. Gregory. What is he doing here? Or… shouldn’t they have thought about how he’d get here? But he wasn’t at the castle…
Arthur decides he’s confused. This situation is somehow socially complicated; he doesn’t know what to do about it.
He glances at Dr Seward, across the table from him, the books they’ve spent the last few hours since breakfast combing through stacked and scattered between them.
So far, they haven’t found anything particularly useful, and Arthur is getting really sick of reading about dhampirs like they’re basically rabid dogs you can’t trust but that are useful anyway. Clearly, the people who wrote these books actually don’t know shit all about dhampirs.
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Taking in the thrown-on house robe and the way she clearly has been dragging Mr Cobb behind her, Jack worries. He wants to just knead his nose and groan. If anything, this is worse than Morris ever was. But this is a tactical, not a social situation, he can deal with this. Telling them to close the door behind them, he fixes Mr Cobb in his gaze, emotions going from vague to cold. “Leaving the likely damage to Darcy’s reputation aside, did you say anything that would indicate what she is? Only nod or shake your head.”
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Darcy is nearly ready to cry, Papa saved her again. Of course he knows what to do. She still has to tug on Gregory’s hand and shush him when he pouts and tries to protest. After all eyes were fixed on him for several long seconds, he finally shakes his head. Not that Darcy is fully convinced, but her papa will know how to ask without asking too much. So she just tells Gregory they’re going to do research and then they wanted to go to the museum. She’s not sure if she hopes he’ll be happy for her and come along, but he just looks at her for a long moment and declares that pretty boring. Okay, no need to check up on her then. Breakfast and their shared morning together now?
She wishes she wouldn’t blush about it, it’s her wifely duty, there is nothing wrong about this. There is no reason to feel so embarrassed and unsure about it. It’s the only time they normally spend together lately, which of course is just because he’s so busy being a good knight postulant and spending time with Arthur… but he wasn’t there in the stables. It doesn’t matter, she said she’ll be an obedient wife, so she just nods and leads him out of the room, doesn’t quite dare to look at Arthur and her papa again.
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Arthur bites his lip- he really hopes Gregory understood that he shouldn’t say anything about anything supernatural, maybe he’ll manage to catch him later and make sure… But there might be servants who could overhear, so that might just make things worse. And, well, he guesses Gregory still thinks museums are boring (even though he never was in one- unless he went by himself, as a cat, at some point? … Probably he didn’t. He would’ve told Arthur about it if he did, wouldn’t he? Since he knows Arthur wants to go?)- Anyway… he’s not sure what he feels about any of that. Shouldn’t he be happy that Gregory is here? But it feels like he’s disrupting their plans, for some reason…
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Now Jack allows himself to knead the bridge of his nose with a grumble. Not that it really helps, so instead he focuses on Arthur. “With that interruption dealt with, anything useful on your side? Despite the early hour I am nearly tempted to declare us ready for picking out a museum as this appears fruitless.”
Arthur frowns, glances around, and then dares to mutter: “…These authors all seem pretty biased and irrational, so… nothing really useful.”
“My point exactly. I believe we will have to put this one up to the natural order of existence of the affected person,” Jack winks, knowing full well it never comes across as as fluid as when Art does it, but he hopes Arthur gets his meaning anyway, “and merely monitor the situation for any ill effects. Now then, would you like to accompany me to collect some brochures so we can make a decision on where to go to after lunch? That should just about be late enough for Art to be coherent.”
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Arthur nods. “That sounds more useful, yes. Um, I’d like that.” He doesn’t know what’s involved in collecting brochures, but it can only be less aggravating than reading about people being horrible to dhampirs.
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“How far along is your riding? Is it safe for me to ask the servants to ready Art’s two horses for us so we can make a round to the different museums?” Beginning to clean the table off and placing these terrible tomes of lies and wasted years back where they belong (although that might be a fire,) Jack keeps his voice even. He’s learned that Arthur spooks easy, so maybe tactics from some of his more anxious patients will help.
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“Um…” Arthur says. “Well, I’m not really good at it yet… but if it’s a very well-behaved horse and we don’t go too fast, I can probably manage?” He’s torn between worry and really liking the idea- riding is so much fun, but on the other hand, what if the horse shies or something? There’s a lot of noise and traffic and stuff that he doesn’t feel competent to deal with if something goes wrong…
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As skittish as Arthur is, as calm are Art’s horses, as Jack knows. Art is the better rider between them, but still, he believes with these specific horses he can keep Arthur safe. So only a short while later, he leads Brownie and Caramel out of the stables. Caramel is on a lead tether so he can help Arthur and make him more confident. They may draw a few looks, but since this is like helping a patient, not a social situation, Jack feels secure, can simply focus on organizing brochures for several museums and private collections.
There is no central information centre, these English really could learn from good French centralisation, so they have to go to each location in turn. Some of them charge for the brochures, but that is a welcome expense. Jack always thought education is something that deserves investment. So he makes sure they don’t return back to Art’s townhouse before they have a proper stack of options.
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Arthur actually enjoys the ride around town- he’s so high up! And Caramel is really a lovely and calm horse, so by the time they finish their ride, he feels quite a bit more secure about sitting on a horse and moving around town with it. It was good practise, he thinks. Though it makes him appreciate even more how smart Hannibal is- much better able to look out for Arthur and make sure he doesn’t fall off and break his neck.
Still, it’s a nice ride and Arthur is feeling pretty good about himself when they return to the townhouse.
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After Darcy spent… well, it’s not that long with Gregory, he left again with a grin, lots of things to do in London, he said. Yes, she knows, she’s been dreaming of them for so long. She thought that maybe her husband would want to do some of them with her.
None of this makes sense. Marriage was supposed to be happily ever after. But she probably is just being silly. Her papa gave her away, so this must be right. Or maybe she’s being bad at it. That’s probably it. Her husband made it clear what she’s good for. She failed to get him John… She hates the thought, so much, so terribly much, but she will protect John! So now her purpose is to get him Llew. And she left, so she can’t work on that, of course she’s bad. Why would her husband spend time with her if she’s being disobedient?
Still, she feels only more unsure as she sits alone at the vanity. Alone. She was used to that, wasn’t she? Why does it feel so wrong now? Maybe she needs perspective? And she’s back in London…
It turns out that her papa and Arthur are out anyway, so she asks the staff to please ready the carriage for her, oh, the horses are out, then to please call her a cab, she’d like to go to Newgate Prison. That likely isn’t the most common request, but she doesn’t care. She wants to feel like she did back home in her old room.
The staff at the front gate clearly aren’t sure what to make of her, until she shows her signet ring and insists she needs to see Dr. Jekyll. Her uncle hurries her through the corridors. The corridors of her home, the corridors she’s never seen before. She doesn’t remember the smell, but that must be because she couldn’t smell as much before.
Still, when she stands in front of her own door, she smiles at her uncle. He’s wringing his hands and she dares to take them in hers and thank him. He’s always been such a loving uncle to her; he has nothing to be so worried about. And now she made him flustered. Of course she did, he’s such a gentle soul and she is… well, a monster. That’s alright though; she can close the door behind her, the heavy door. It clicks into the lock and part of her mind wishes it wasn’t actually unlocked.
Turning slowly in her old room, she takes in the familiar bars in front of her window, the familiar closed door, the heavy stone walls. It feels so safe. Everything was so easy back then. She knew her life. All she had to do was be an obedient daughter and her papa would see to everything. She knew she would be happy every second he was there. And sometimes even when he wasn’t there. Her mouse friends were there. Now they even come to her. No need for her to sit perfectly still and leave food out on the floor to coax them out. They are right there, running up to her.
Why can’t her life make as much sense anymore? Petting her friends, she sits in the middle of her old room, on the floor, stares at the corner where her harp is missing and hates the change. She knows it’s at the castle, she knows her life is at the castle, but… there is no happily ever after.
She’s become the heroine of a story that only has a hero. She’s the endnote, the final sentence in a fairy tale. She’s not even the heroine in one of those romances where the hero just needs a guiding female hand. She can’t even do that. Will she vanish? If she’s not a main character she’s nobody, isn’t she? Can somebody stop being real? She’s not sure and it scares her. She has to be real; she still has to be good for John, for Arthur… for her papa! If he still needs her now that he has his real heroine back. She doesn’t want to be jealous of her mother, but it hurts.
For a long moment, she hates the life outside these walls with all her heart, all her drac, and that anger… feels not like her. Not like her at all. Maybe Gregory is really getting to her head? Demons do that and her drac let him in.
She can’t possibly be bad for her family. She can’t let ‘the worst in her’ be brought out! No, she won’t have it! She’ll protect them! Even from herself! For her family she can do it!
So she gets up again, brushes her fingers over the walls with one last sigh, then opens the door and slips the mask she knows she needs to wear back on. It feels like it cuts through her skin and digs itself into her bones to stay on. She feels like that sense of where Gregory is presses against the mask to settle it into place, settle her purpose into place.
No, she can’t stop being real, but apparently she can stop being the heroine and become the support character, and she’s too obedient to not accept her fate. Darcy will do the best she can.
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Arthur and Dr Seward return in time for an early lunch- apparently, that’s how it’s done in Art’s household because for him, that’s breakfast. Darcy is giggling and cooing at him, but a few cups of coffee and some food serve to wake him up enough that they get to discussing the brochures and what museum to go to.
Darcy doesn’t seem to have a preference, so it ends up Arthur’s choice, and, well… he picks the Natural History museum, because that sounds like it will have the most interesting things, and also that collection of minerals Dr Seward suggested to Darcy.
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That had not actually been the museum Jack meant, the much larger Geological Museum is next door and he was convinced Darcy would loudly state her preference for it. But she’s all over deferring to ‘her Arthur-dear’. Maybe Art is right, it might be for the best that he’s a feminist influence on her. Did he miscalculate on Darcy surely inheriting Lucy’s free spirit? He is not entirely comfortable with how meek she is, although maybe now he’s being petty again about Mr Cobb.
In either case, Darcy seems happy about the choice, and Art, obviously, would have looked even at the most obscure collection as long as he can do it with the children. Maybe Jack should take his rose petal to the other museum when she doesn’t need to take anybody else’s opinion into account, which really, he’s seen her show that behaviour before. She can de-individuate somewhat when she’s attached to a person.
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Arthur finds himself really very excited when they get ready to set out- he gets to see a real museum! And, well, not even by himself… He offers Darcy a shy smile as they wait for the carriage to be brought around to the front door, anticipating that this will be a lot of fun.
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Answering that smile as warmly as she can, Darcy doesn’t even feel the mask that badly. Sure, sometimes it grinds against her bones; sometimes she feels it when she doesn’t say something. But she’s a support character, a good woman… and she knew that was a mistake back when she realised that she misjudged what she should have asked Eluned for.
Now she has to do what is right for that role, for her purpose, but women are meant to be good for their families. She will never be able to be a good mother, she will likely never be able to be a wife Gregory could really want, so she’s a failed woman in some ways. But that only means she has to be an even better woman in other ways: The best sister-in-law for Arthur, the best affair for John, the best daughter for her papa and Daddy. And really, she can’t even complain about any of this. She loves her family.
“This is going to be fun, right?” Arthur asks her. “Um, thanks for wanting me to come along? I’ve always wanted to go to a museum…”
“I want to say I love museums, but I’ve never been to one either. But Papa thinks I’ll love them, so it definitely will be the very best! Thank you for coming along, Arthur-dear.” Grinning at Arthur as she lets her daddy help her into the carriage, Darcy wonders how she can be even better for him. She’ll make sure to be excited, that will be good to let past the mask, yes. Maybe she’ll even dare tug on his sleeve to drag him around.
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Arthur climbs in, too, not sure what else to say- well, it’s not like he has to say anything, right? They’ll have plenty to talk about at the museum- he hopes.
And they do. The museum is… grand, with high vaulted ceilings and reliefs on the walls, and so many things to look at just with the building itself. He’d say it’s the grandest building he’s ever seen, except he lives in a castle and he’s been to a duchess’ manor, so, no, by now he’s seen that kind of thing before, but still. It’s like it’s… a cathedral for science, a bit.
And once they’re getting to looking at all the animals and insects and fossils in the long galleries, Darcy takes his hand and drags him along to the next interesting thing that catches her eye while she’s asking Art and Dr Seward so many questions that Arthur even feels comfortable adding his own when they occur to him.