Chapter 66
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 65
Not sure what she’s supposed to do with so much food, Darcy climbs up on the sofa, then Art’s lap and offers him a scone while she asks him where Papa is.
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Sometimes it is really difficult for Art to remember that his sugar doll is a grown woman. She has the worst knack for making him feel like he has a little girl after all. Happy to let himself be fed and cuddling with her, he explains that Jack went to his asylum to see to important evening matters. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispers that that would be kissing Lucy good morning, which gets him the hoped-for giggle. When he asks what the kids were up to and why he may or may not have a little hunter ward on a certain grounded person’s door, though, his eyebrows rise.
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Arthur is a little distracted with his own scone and jam and clotted cream- this is the kind of tasty treat he only ever got to read about, and it absolutely lives up to its reputation- but hearing the word ‘ward’ makes him perk up: What kind of ward? That sounds interesting- but, he reminds himself, the more important information first, so joins in in relating what they found out. Carefully, of course, without mentioning any dhampir-related things.
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With a groan, Art rolls his eyes once he has heard all about it, then ruffles Darcy’s hair. “Don’t worry, sugar doll, your daddy got this. Not the first time Blaire’s tries that on me. Can you make sure to look really upset when we go to the police to report that you are being targeted for slander?”
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Hah! She knew her fathers would know what to do, so Darcy nods eagerly and keeps listening when Art explains that all they have to do is to make it clear that yes, her lower-class husband still has some old, bad habits. That was plenty obvious at the wedding, so it’s believable. He was there to settle his old tab, that explains the amount of money, and now the bookie there tries to make it out much worse than it is. Everybody knows what kind of establishment the place is, blackmail fits right in. The police is, of course, going to believe the noble lady. There’s going to be some gossip, but when isn’t there, there’s worse out there about him.
Arthur can hardly believe it, has to ask: It’s really that easy? They can just go to the police?
“We’re nobles, yes, it’s that easy for us,” Art agrees, a slight shadow on his face. He’s well aware that this is far from how life goes for likely everybody Arthur ever knew. He certainly knows it’s not how life goes for the women he shelters at his estate. He’s been called soft hearted, mainly by his head maid who ends up having to take up the slack (and happily does), when he once again brings her a woman fallen on ill luck through no fault on her own. Yes, his country estate doesn’t have a single proper servant in it, it’s all re-trained whores, crippled veterans, and aberrations, and frankly, it’s the one thing he’s proud of.
For right now though, he’ll get to solve a problem for his kids, so he addresses Arthur. “Can I count on you to stand witness that Gregory would be the kind of man to settle his debt and not think of the potential consequences?”
Arthur nods, of course. He certainly will- paying his debts doesn’t even put Gregory into a bad light, really, does it?
No, it doesn’t. It could be seen as his attempt to make up for his bad habit and he’s young so his lack of proper judgement to use a cheque and thereby indicate his poor wife can easily be spun sympathetically.
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While Art explains that, Darcy can’t fully figure out why she feels both relief and… is that resentment? It doesn’t matter; the mask is securely in place. She will be a good wife no matter what. She will bear the gossip and the fake sympathy and smile at the next social event she has to survive.
Arthur sits back in his chair and admits that, well… that was a lot easier and less dramatic than he expected. Er, are they still going to find a way to implicate the men they identified somehow? Though he imagines they have the local constabulary in their pocket, anyway…
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“Even if we do, at best the runner gets it. Not worth the hassle of explaining how we know it’s them.” He’s been through this game a few times, Art doesn’t have the energy for any extra steps he knows won’t go very far. And really, if there was actual danger to his sugar doll, no, the official channels aren’t how this would be best solved. But he isn’t going to say that out loud or plan anything because that would be Jack’s strongpoint, not his.
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Arthur gives Darcy a sheepish look. “Guess we could’ve saved ourselves a trip…”
Pouting and shaking her head, she disagrees. “But then you wouldn’t have shown me your place and we wouldn’t have gotten your books!”
“True,” he concedes. Apparently, she really did like seeing his former house. “Though I suppose we could’ve gone directly… but we might’ve not thought of it. Or I wouldn’t have, at least.”
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“Sometimes the best ideas are spontaneous,” is Art’s opinion before he gets up, Darcy still in his arms, and asks if they want to get this over with. If they can grumble about being late for dinner because of this, they might make the police jump a bit faster.
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Arthur drinks the last sip of his tea, stands and nods- yes, he’s happy to get it done!
And it really is that easy. They go to the police station, and while Arthur doesn’t think the people there really like them, and they’re kind of condescending to Darcy, they are also all… accommodating? They’re definitely helpful in a way that no copper has ever acted around Arthur before. But then, of course, now they’re important people with money and all, so the people that the coppers are there to protect from the likes of Arthur.
Either way, they say they’ll investigate, and to let them know if there’s any further attempts to contact them, and to leave it with them once Darcy and Arthur have given their statements. They don’t even ask to talk to Gregory. Which is probably for the best- what if Gregory said something wrong?
Gregory, of course, isn’t very happy when they let him out of the room for dinner, but when they tell him it’s sorted, he says “I knew you’d figure it out, Artie, you’re awesome!” and Arthur really doesn’t know what to do with that except point out that it was, in fact, Art who sorted it. That only makes Gregory look confused, and then Darcy crosses her arms and tells him he can’t do something like that, paying with a cheque in a place like this! And Gregory waves his hand and says but now it’s all fine, where’s the problem, and… then Darcy looks confused, and like she wants to say something but can’t quite figure out what.
Thankfully, Art steps in and explains in no uncertain terms that it’s Gregory’s duty as Darcy’s husband to look out for her reputation, so that means no cheques in places she shouldn’t be associated with! Understand?
Gregory shuffles a bit under Art’s heavy gaze, but then concedes.
The whole thing leaves Arthur unsettled, still worried- and there’s the question of where Gregory goes all the time if he’s not with Darcy like Arthur thought, is he really here in London? But why would he be? They got out of this neighbourhood, away from being hungry and cold and in danger all the time from the people around- why would he come back here when it’s so much nicer at the castle?
Arthur doesn’t really understand, it feels like it’s all too much, all these complicated social things he just can’t figure out, and so he’s glad to head to dinner instead.
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Dinner has Darcy sit close to her daddy because she just… she doesn’t really know what is wrong with her, but having him close is soothing and her papa isn’t back yet. No, she’s not worried about it, her mother is with him, he’ll be safe. In fact, maybe she’s a bit jealous again, because she imagines them strolling through the town or sitting in his rose garden. She wanted to see that rose garden for so very long, but it’s too late for her to go out now, the servants shouldn’t see that, after all.
Of course, that doesn’t apply to her husband, he’s a man, he can do what he wants and she supposes he’s right to demand his freedom after she grounded him for the day. He stayed in, didn’t he? So she just sighs when he isn’t there after dinner when she returns from the washroom to an empty room. That’s okay, she has a task to finish and Arthur had offered to keep her company.
The maids can provide her with a sewing kit easily enough and really, this is nice, Arthur reading on the other side of the sofa, Daddy in an armchair just across from her, cooing at how sweet she is. Maybe she doesn’t always know how to be good enough, but right now with these two men she feels more secure. She just wishes John was here, she misses him, and she hopes he’s okay at the castle. He’s the reason she can’t wait to be on the train tomorrow, even though she loves being around her daddy.
It takes her far into the night, this is a bit ambitious for her, but she wants to be good for her husband and acknowledge his past and show him that he can be honest about it. She’ll happily put his teddy bear in with her own stuffed toys.
By the time she’s done, Arthur has already gone to bed and her daddy went out for a midnight stroll. The wink he gave her makes her think he’s going out to meet up with her mother and Papa and really, she’s so happy for them, but she’s still sorry that she might not see him tomorrow. However, she might not see him in the morning, but by the time she goes to bed he’s back and asks her if she wants to snuggle again. Does she ever!
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It doesn’t even sting at all, waking up and her drac telling Darcy that Gregory isn’t in the house. That’s okay when she can wake up all comfy and draped comfortably over Daddy. He’s so warm and big and her face is deep in his beard and that’s just bliss. She doesn’t want to be mean to him, so she sneaks out of bed best she can.
Apparently even her sneaking is good enough for him to not even stir, well, not at all apart from grabbing a pillow to still have something to hug with her gone. Seeing that makes tears spring to her eyes for a moment. Her daddy does that when her husband doesn’t. No, no, she can’t think like that. She has to be good. So she makes sure her smile and her mask are tightly in place when she goes down to breakfast.
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The guest room is really nice, but Arthur actually finds himself missing his room in the castle- and Katharina’s company. He realizes that the room at the castle really does feel like his own, pretty much, now. And he appreciates their lack of servants… Since he doesn’t want to make more work for them, and also because he’s curious about more of the books Art put into his guest room, he spends the first few hours of the morning reading, and only gets up when he thinks it’s about time for Darcy to have breakfast, too. And, indeed, he’s only just arrived downstairs himself when he hears her steps from above.
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Chirping him a good morning, she yawns and slides into a seat, glad that the servants work just as well as her castle’s magic, because she really didn’t know how to get herself breakfast otherwise. Well, that’s not entirely true, she did go hunting with her bat friends one very early morning, but she’s well aware that that’s not proper for a lady and she’s supposed to play human here.
That’s just another reason to go back to the castle. But foremost, she really misses John. It’s only really been a day, but it feels worse because she knows they would have had much longer together if she could have spent her night in his dreamscape. She’ll make sure to tell him. That’s something a good affair does, isn’t it? Telling her man how much she can’t be without him.
First, though, breakfast and getting back to the train. Papa left her a letter, too, he’s sorry for not seeing her off, but there was something he needed to keep investigating. Oh, maybe Daddy wasn’t out for just fun, they are trying to find out who sent that nasty book after all! She’s not happy about it, but it does mean they are out of the house quickly after breakfast. It’s not as if they have lots to pack. Gregory pops back in, too, luckily through the door, even if it’s the back door. She can’t expect him to be perfect.
But he came back in time. Um, no, they don’t have the time for their morning routine, but she… she got something for him! With a smile and apology about having been so angry at him yesterday, she presents him with the teddy bear. Giving him a brilliant smile, she says she fixed it for him and that he could have told her! She thinks it’s really sweet, she also has some!
There’s confusion on his face as he looks at the teddy bear. Did she do it wrong? She so hoped he’d like it! Oh no, um, oh, oh maybe he’s insecure about his manliness? He worried about being teased when he was short, too, right. So she goes on, reassuring him that he’s strong and her man. She likes knowing these things about his past, he’s her husband, he can always talk to her!
“Right, childhood teddy bear?” Gregory takes it out of her hand finally, but the look is still oddly blank to her. She thought he’d have at least some emotional reaction. And why was that a question? Why does he seem to not recognize it at all? Arthur wouldn’t have lied to her about this. So she probably just, well, was being a silly sentimental girl. She must have been, because he just puts it down on the bed, the guest bed, and asks if they can leave now.
Head hung, she nods, nods demurely. She feels so stupid now. Everything she tries just doesn’t work. She’s so powerless. But yes, they can leave, and her look at him from under her eyelashes does finally get a smile from him, so she guesses leaving, at least, made him happy.
Not happy enough to keep him staying close to her. He goes back and forth between fidgeting and being lethargic with boredom during the coach ride to the train station and the moment they are out, he wanders off. Darcy keeps her head high and her mask tight. She’s a good wife… well, no, clearly she’s a terrible one, but she’s obedient. Her drac disagrees, however, when her ears pick up the conversation Gregory seems to be having over there in the shadows.
What is that harlot thinking, just approaching her man like that?! A moment later, Darcy has to press the mask as tight on her face as she possibly can and balls her fists. No, no, she’s an obedient wife, it’s not up to her to march after Gregory into the not even very far or shadowed corner. No, he’s not John, he’s not rebuffing the harlot. No, Gregory likes the flattery, takes the conversation up. Of course he does, he’s the one who told her repeatedly that’s what everybody does, that wanting others is normal. He pushed her and John together. She has no right to say anything. No, she doesn’t. Still, her drac is snarling and growling and pacing behind her eyelids. She can’t let it out, not here… but she can at least get a better look at who is on her territory!
It’s unthinking, she just couldn’t stop her drac from jumping, but still, the loud gasp from the harlot, and her fearful look as something about Gregory must have given Darcy’s drac away, are so very satisfying! Yes, run, get away from her man! He’s hers! Only hers, nobody else gets his blood! Him, nobody gets him, she means, of course, and she can feel her fangs underneath her smile even as she makes sure to put her fan in front of her face and look the other way.
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Arthur’s not sure whether he likes the train station- the building is amazing, all those high, arching roofs, and of course there’s the trains, the steam billowing from the locomotives. All of that would be really cool, but there are also a lot of people there, hurrying to and fro. And, of course, he’s used to the bustle of London, but… but confined in the building as they are, the crowd of people seems to press in on him more than it does in the streets. So he really wishes Gregory wouldn’t wander off, but of course he does- he’s never scared of anything, after all. And they have plenty of time before their train leaves. But still… He’s glad when Gregory rejoins them, though Gregory himself doesn’t look very happy about it. How he can just go off and talk to people and chat with them, Arthur will never understand…
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By the time they are in their partition, Darcy can manage to walk without worrying her paws will pop out. Really, how can she even be angry? She can’t do anything after all. Her papa gave her away. She has a marriage contract. She just has to keep going, keep the mask as snug as she can. Maybe it’s petty of her to think that she’s glad when Gregory, soon enough, walks off again, bored now in the train with only her and Arthur. Pulling her legs up, (yes, she knows that’s rude,) she stares out of the window, and the longer she’s just alone with her drac the angrier she gets.
The teddy bear is heavy in her pocket, and she really doesn’t know why she even picked it back up. She tried so hard, put the effort in, and he didn’t even say anything. If she gets it wrong, he has to at least tell her so she can learn to do better. But he never does! It’s always just ‘he doesn’t care’. And then he goes and flirts… and worse! She doesn’t even want to know how he would have been if that harlot had been a man… or boy, she guesses, going by the one she saw in the pub.
Pressing one claw after the other against her thumb, she tries not to chew through her lip at her drac pacing round and round. Her John would never have done that. He rebuffed all the harlots. Why can’t she love him properly?! It makes her only angrier. Fine, fine! She’ll focus on getting Llew for Gregory. It’s clearly the only thing she can get right. But with John, oh her John definitely missed her. She missed him, and isn’t that what a good affair would do? Show him how much she can’t be without him. Yes, yes, she’ll throw herself into his arms. She’ll let him dip her and rely on his strong arms to hold her. Like in a proper romance story, even if she’s clearly the villainess here. But he wants her. She’ll be the best possible affair for him she ever could be!
Ugh, what is that saying? “Speak of the devil”. Llew is waiting for them at the train station. Why would he ever do that? And he strolls right up to her with an overplayed wave and call to his dearest cousin. She’s not that stupid, and he should know it. She can very much tell he only did it so she can’t say anything about being on his arm. He really doesn’t know how to do this properly; she does not want to touch him that much.
But then again, she has to, doesn’t she? That’s her purpose for her husband, be the obedient whore. So with only some grinding of her teeth, she chirps at Llew what a pleasant surprise this is. He didn’t need to bother to pick her up! No, no, he insists! He especially does when walking through one doorway and out the castle front gate, right through that sparkly vortex he’s used when he helped them get around on excursions. The instant they are behind the wards, he starts complaining. She can’t just run off like that. She has a responsibility! A responsibility to him. What if he couldn’t just have taken over her duties on such short notice? Where even was she?
She shirked her duties? No… if she does that it might lead to punishments through the contract, the contract that includes John! Before she so much as considers answering Llew, she dashes off, she has to make sure John is alright. Apparently, he didn’t know she would be back. The only reason the study door isn’t in splinters from her slamming it open is that he could hear her trample up the stairs and came out into the corridor. She makes good on her wish to throw herself into his arms and clings to him, inhales deeply of his scent and cuddles herself tight in at smelling that he’s alright. That’s such a relief, such a relief.
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“Hey, culver, missed you, too.” Okay, maybe he let out a bit too much emotion there, but fuck it, his girl threw herself at him. That was a full drac jump and, yes, she threw him on his ass. Worth it to hold her! But, of course, he can’t just enjoy it. When it’s not Gregory ruining his moments it’s fucking Llew! What does the creep want now?
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Tutting at Darcy, Llew doesn’t mind having had to teleport after her, oh, that sweet emotional overload her and John always produce between them. Now just to steal some of that for himself. She still owes him an explanation. London? That’s what took so long? No, no, he won’t have it that his very important schedule is disturbed by her useless human ways. Leaning in close, he grins at her and stretches his hand out. He’ll get them a much faster way. No, she can’t say no. This up close, he can tell that she even has something that might make it easier on him, so he outright asks for the token in her pocket.
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Huh? What does Llew mean? She reaches into her pocket and, well, there are some things in there, none of them a token but still nothing she wants to part with. Apart from the blasted teddy bear, of course, if she’s lucky he’ll take it. Holding it out to him, he does that gross face again and nods that this will do nicely, now he just needs an anchor. Isn’t he ever so nice to her? She wants to spit in his face, really. But instead, she smiles and thanks him. But she has no ideas about anchors; maybe he should ask Arthur, he knows more about magic.
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Arthur really wishes the train ride would’ve been more fun- he feels like it should’ve been, but instead… instead it kind of dragged and was awkward. And, well, November is maybe not the best time to look at the English countryside as it passes. In any case, he’s glad when they’re back. Why Llew needs to pick them up, he’s not sure, but at least that gets them to the castle really fast through one of his magic portal things.
And that means Arthur can go greet Hannibal all the quicker, he just drops his things off in the entrance hall and then heads right back out, while Darcy runs off to say hello to John, from what she said. And Hannibal trotting right up to him and sticking his head against Arthur’s chest for scratches behind his ears is just the best. Arthur finds himself smiling, and scratching, and hugging him- his awesome magical horse!