Chapter 23
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 22
The light is a small orb, hardly larger than a firefly, but much brighter, and in it, a woman crouches down in the grass. Her hair is dark, falls around her shoulders and face in wild, open waves.
Arthur’s only seen her once, but he still recognizes her: It’s the woman from the prison break. The one who carried the skeleton’s skin over her arm.
She reaches out to touch something in the grass- something dark and… Arthur feels his gorge rise.
Something charred and human-shaped.
“Johnny!” the woman says, petulant. “You didn’t say he could do that!”
A pair of boots appear at the edge of the light, the hem of an old-fashioned black robe. Arthur’s eyes track up, with weak-kneed dread, a tall, angular form. High up, there’s the pale oval of his father’s face, past the light, hard to make out.
But Arthur can feel the gaze of those flat, black eyes on himself, pressing down on him.
And, to his horror, he thinks that dip of the pale splotch might be a nod of acknowledgement.
Arthur wants to disappear. He crouches frozen and wishes with all his heart he could turn invisible like Gregory.
For everything that’s happened, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this scared. His father is only yards away. And there are no wards between them. And he sees Arthur.
Two long steps would be all it’d take for him to reach Arthur.
In the darkness, a wolf snarls, and there’s a gurgling sound.
His father puts his hand on the woman’s shoulder, large and strong and pale, and pulls her up, pulls her into the darkness.
His shape turns away, and he and the woman vanish into the trees, towards the road.
The badger stirs under Arthur’s fingers, still frozen against its wiry fur. Arthur twitches back, startled- he thinks badgers have sharp teeth. And… his legs feel like water, his entire insides feel like water, but… the crow. He wants to heal the crow, he doesn’t want to think about his father, or what he did- he jumps up, crosses to the last circle with big, high steps- nothing but grass and weeds under his boots. He really doesn’t want to know what stepping on the legs of that charred body would feel like.
The crow is starting to struggle, too, beak gaping, wings and feet twitching, and Arthur quickly crouches down and reaches for it.
It’s such a small animal, it only takes a moment to heal it. He can’t do anything about the singed feathers, but the crow flips itself over, onto its feet, and flutters off. It sounds unsteady, looks unsteady for the moment he can see it in the faint light, but… but he thinks it’ll be alright, it managed to get off the ground.
He plops down on the ground on his arse, and starts shivering.
The sounds of fighting in the darkness are dying off. …Which was a bad choice of words to think. He shudders harder, wraps his arms around his legs.
The doe must have run off without him noticing- he can’t see her in her circle when he looks around.
At least the animals will be okay.
It’s Darcy who finds him a few minutes later, still in wolf form, steps up to him carefully. He gives her a wan smile, glad to see her unharmed- and glad that it’s too dark for him to see the blood that’s no doubt matting her fur.
But it’s not like he can judge anyone today- he killed a man, too. A man whose body isn’t far away from him at all. A man whose body he can smell from where he’s sitting- a charred and meaty scent. Like a roast someone left in the oven for too long.
He quickly turns his thoughts away from that again. Darcy nudges his arm, very shyly, and he dares put his hand in her ruff and brace himself against her as he gets to his feet. Her fur is thick, the outer coat longer and coarser, but underneath, his fingers sink into at least an inch of warm and soft undercoat.
It’s very nice to touch, but he doesn’t want to, well, be rude or weird or something, so he takes his hand out of her fur once he’s sure his knees are going to hold up.
They walk back through the wards and meet Gregory, still in his demon form and looking pleased with himself. A moment later, Dr Seward steps out from between the hedges, too. He doesn’t look any worse for wear- his clothes still neat and clean as far as Arthur can see in the dark. He wonders whether the man went and hid through the fight. But whatever he did, he still seems remarkably calm and doesn’t even blink at Gregory’s shape. In fact, apart from one short, assessing look, he doesn’t pay him much attention at all, instead focuses on Darcy, crouches down to check over her wolf form and makes sure she’s uninjured. But Darcy turns back into her human form and holds still obediently, even turns without being asked so he check her all over- and then pouts and announces that he needs to let her check him, too! It’s only fair!
Arthur thinks he sees a hint of a smile on Dr Seward’s face at that, and he does indeed keep still for her in turn while she fusses over him.
He also informs her that the hunters are all dealt with, none of them will be able to call more hunters who could hurt her.
Arthur feels a frisson of alarm- those were hunters? As in, vampire hunters? Dr Seward certainly makes it sound like it, but Arthur doesn’t dare ask for clarification. Also, how Dr Seward is sure that none of them got away. And he also doesn’t quite dare mention that it wasn’t just hunters, and who got away- how would he explain how he recognized them? He doesn’t know if Dr Seward knows who he is- whose son he is, but if he doesn’t, Arthur isn’t keen to tell him- what if he decides that Arthur shouldn’t be around his daughter? Certainly he’s not suitable to be around an actual noble lady, and while Darcy doesn’t seem to mind… her father might. And she clearly values her father’s opinion a lot. So he keeps his mouth shut, even though he doesn’t feel entirely good about it- it is important information, after all. Dangerous information, potentially.
Meanwhile, Darcy all but chirps that her papa of course protects her, and is about to hug him when Dr Seward holds her back and says she might want to clean herself up- and by Darcy’s expression as she looks down at her dress, that’s the first time she notices the blood she’s covered in. She blushes and apologizes, but Dr Seward pats her hair and tells her he’s very proud of her, she can take care of herself now, his strong Ruby, which makes Darcy beam. Arthur’s not sure why Dr Seward calls her Ruby… maybe it’s a nickname?
Then he realizes that Darcy is taking Dr Seward’s hand and pulling him along back to the house, saying that if she’s cleaning up, he needs to help her as he always does. Arthur hesitates, but… he’s not sure what to do, so shyly calls after them:
“Um… What about the bodies?”
Dr Seward turns his head to look over his shoulder at him, which makes Arthur’s shoulders tense with the urge to duck down, but he only says he’ll take care of it… And, well, he’s a doctor, so… possibly he has ways to get rid of bodies.
So, at a bit of a distance, Arthur follows them back to the house- behind Gregory, who has at some point turned back to his own human shape and is hurrying after Darcy and Dr Seward.
Arthur resists the urge to look back- he wouldn’t be able to make out the body he’s responsible for in the dark anyway, so there’s really no point.
~~~~
During dinner, Dr Seward learns that the evening’s events don’t appear to be that out of the ordinary. He hears about more of these ‘excursions’, which seems to be her term for questionable adventures. This barony appears to have only gotten worse since Lucy’s absence, not surprising, a steward would only do so much, certainly not look to the tenants personally as Darcy seems to have done for weeks now. And he might not be the most socially adept, but Mr. Cobb’s attempts to downplay as to how bloody some of these excursions get do little to make him less worried that his little girl might indeed be cursed to bloodshed.
~~~~
After dinner, with her papa here now, Darcy finds the courage to read the dhampir book completely because her papa wants to read it, too, and they discuss it together.
Arthur, for his part, finds dinner painfully awkward, and is more than glad when it’s over and he can curl up in the library- a good distance from Dr Seward and Darcy. Gregory eventually comes over to talk to him as Darcy and Dr Seward seem to become thoroughly immersed in a discussion of the dhampir book. Arthur hesitates, then tells him, quietly, about the presence of his father and the woman from the Shiver- he knows he’s read her name in the paper at some point, but it was unusual and he can’t remember it- makes a note to look it up. But for now… he’s relieved when Gregory reassures him- they chased them off, didn’t they? If they come back, they’ll do it again! Arthur doesn’t have to worry, he adds with a grin- he’ll protect him!
Arthur does very much want that protection- and Gregory always has, to the best of his ability. Putting himself between Arthur and the other street children. Finding money for them these last few years- how, Arthur doesn’t know, but he suspects with one of the pick-pocketing gangs. Certainly something that made Gregory come back with bruises, that made him cry sometimes. Nothing easy. Not that Arthur’s a stranger to pick-pocketing, but at least he never needed to join one of the gangs, deal with any of the scary men that run them.
Gregory is all he ever had. And maybe… if Gregory can be in love, maybe it’s really only demon powers he got. Maybe it’s really still him.
He wants that so much- so maybe he read things wrong, maybe Darcy wasn’t scared of Gregory, not really. She definitely acted like she wants to marry him, the way she looked at her father… So… if Gregory says he’s happy, that’s the important thing, he decides, and he’ll be happy for them.
After all, maybe he would’ve kept it to himself, too, if he fell in love with someone. It’s special, something to treasure, surely? Private. Something between the two people that are in love, not between them and best friends, or little brothers, as Gregory likes to call him.
~~~~
The next days do little to dissuade Dr Seward of his reservations. Mr. Cobb is constantly around Darcy, vying for her attention while she is in obvious charge of the household, the barony work, and strategic decisions. He’s proud of his little girl, of course he is, but he does not see what contributions her suitor brings. If anything he spots that it is Mr. Lancaster who is around her for research, who helps with some of the paperwork. Why couldn’t it have been the one that reminds him more of himself. What is it with the women in this family and overly confident for no reason and uneducated men? He is starting to have unbidden associations of Mr. Morris and that man was far below Lucy back then, too.
Nevertheless, Darcy is all but obsessed about keeping the young man close, does not seem to mind at all that he is constantly fawning over her, following her around like a dog but never taking initiative in offering help with any of her tasks, hides behind an obvious excuse of not being able to read. With a sigh he does use one of the few opportunities during which he could manage to talk to his rose petal undisturbed to tell her that he will need to return to London. There are matters he has to see through, including official engagement preparations, he shall also see if he can contact her mother. He could not prevent her from awakening, if there is any hope that this is not her doom, then she deserves to have her mother at her wedding. The Lucy he remembers loved weddings, he hopes that might be incentive enough for her to return.