CHAPTER THREE.
William Darcy, knew the change was coming. He could feel it, his usually clean shaven appearance was becoming less and less easy to obtain. His normally even white teeth, were becoming elongated to be specific; his front canines were being more sharp and pointed. It wasn't a very noticeable change, especially considering he was a rock star. Famous people did strange things all the time such as painting their faces white, piercing their nipples and such. A less clean shaven appearance and Pointy teeth were hardly noticeable in the greater scheme of things, but William knew that in two weeks his barely noticeable difference would indeed become quite noticeable.
Will splashed some cold water on her pale face, and sighed taking another look at his face. He knew he was handsome, his hair was silky and black he kept it long enough to give him an edge, but not long enough to make him appear unkempt. His eyes were the unnatural haunting silver, the Darcy family were renowned for. William was naturally tall and slender, another Darcy trait, but in a month it wouldn't matter. He would become what the men that held the Darcy name always were; beasts.
Will had just reached out for a white button down shirt to cover the array of tattoos that covered his torso, chest, and arms, when his friend and band mate; Jack Wickham began to pound on the bathroom door.
"Pretty boy, let's get a move on. We have a photo shoot in fifteen minutes!" he yelled.
Darcy bit back the urge to punch his drummer in the nose. Jack was barely tolerable when Will was in the best of moods, and at the moment he was bordering on the line of people whom Will would consider pleasing to kill.
"Jack, go on with the rest of the band, and head over to the shoot. I have some things to take care of, and I'll follow behind you." William said, blatantly ignoring Jack's look of contempt, and taking his time to reach for his jacket."
"Arrogant Bastard." Jack muttered under his breath, as he left the hotel room.
Will briefly contemplated, beating him black and blue, but immediately decided that would be too much of a hassle, and would be terrible publicity for the band. The only reason Will and the other band members had allowed Jack into the band had to do with Will's Father requesting he take care of Jack after he had passed on, and William out of a deep love and respect for his Father had kept his promise, even though it was becoming more and more of a hassle.
Darcy mentally shrugged the thoughts off refusing to put himself in a darker mood than he had already accumulated. Besides he had other matters to attend such; as informing Mrs. Bell he would be home for the winter; of course she already knew this having taken care of the Darcy estate for nigh on a century now. Mrs. Bell knew that every two years, no matter how far the Darcy men traveled they would always have to return to Tempest Glen for the winter.
Will quickly dialed the number that would connect him to Mrs. Bell the quickest.
"Hello, Lad." She greeted him her Scottish Brogue noticeably thicker.
Will noted the change was probably upon her, as well as the rest of the staff as well. "Mrs. Bell, I will need you to make the proper arrangements; I will be home tomorrow evening." Will responded, using as few words as possible.
"Already done." She answered, but then made a noise signaling she had more, but was hesitant to continue.
"What is it?" Will asked almost impatiently.
"Lad, it's the Nanny you hired last winter. She wasn't here when-"
"Mrs. Bell." Will interrupted, completely forgetting the fact that he had hired a stranger to watch over his children. "Is she trustworthy? D-do you like her?" he asked feeling strange, as sudden images of a future of freedom unfolded before his eyes. A future where he could love his children without restraint, instead of this horrible separation from them; just to keep them safe. Maybe this woman could break the curse.
"She seems to be very trustworthy. Loves the children like they were her own, very remarkable for one so young, but-"
"But, what?!" Darcy snapped, seeing all his dreams of freedom vanishing before his eyes.
"Lad, she's an American; not a proper Lady. I'm sorry we both know what the curse says, but-"
"No!" Will shouted in the phone, before calming himself. It wasn't Mrs. Bell's fault the girl wasn't what the curse called for in a female. "No, it's fine. Just start mentally preparing her for what's about to come, and everything should be fine." He said with more hope than he felt.
"Yes, of course Lad." Mrs. Bell paused a beat before continuing. "Should the rest of the servants and I prepare for the Ball? Because we are receiving daily inquiries of when it is to be."
"Yes, we will be having the ball since it's the last any of us will be suitable for proper company, until spring. It was be held on its normal time; the last evening of November." Will responded, while secretly dreading the idea of an evening of dancing and fun; while knowing what was to come, but there was no help for it. His loyal servants deserved at least one night to forget their worries and be completely human.
"Good Lad, the servants will be glad to hear it." Mrs. Bell took a breath. "It will all come to be right in the end, you know that William. Your Father and Mother almost succeeded; you have much of them in you; I do believe you will be the one to set us all free. You just have to keep holding on to hope. Remember that Lad, hope and love are the most important things."
Will didn't answer right away, his head was filled with images of his Father and Mother laughing and spending time with him and Georgiana. Both of his parents had been remarkable people, but in the end it hadn't been enough; their love for each other and for Will and Georgiana hadn't been enough, but despite the seeds of hopelessness whispering in his mind, something whispered what they hadn't been able to do had been sown in both Georgiana and Will. It might be enough.
"Thank you Mrs. Bell…I will keep it in mind, and I will see you very soon." Will said disconnecting the phone, and then placing his face into his palms and letting out one very silent sob.
Lizzie was very put out.
That was the only way to describe it; there had been no word, or sign of William Darcy for almost a year now, and all of a sudden he was going to make a dramatic appearance! She wasn't going to have it, Flynn and Sterling both needed stability. Not this nonsense of specter parents waiting to pop out from behind a curtain, whenever they felt it was convenient. Lizzie made up her mind to have a talk with this William Darcy, and inform him that he needed to be a stable presence in both of the Children's lives.
The actual problem in reality, had less to do with the children's sense of stability, and more of Lizzie being informed that she was to attend the ball Mr. Darcy was hosting. Mrs. Bell had informed her that she had best take her next day off, and find a gown to wear.
When Sunday rolled around Lizzie had no idea where to go to find a gown, nor what type of dress she would even want. Luckily for Lizzie; Georgiana happened to be visiting that weekend, and was happy to take Lizzie to town. When Flynn asked to come along, it became an official girl's day out; something Lizzie was enjoying the idea of more than she cared to admit.
The small village they arrived at was very picturesque, with its clean white and pastel colored shops, and ritzy coffee shops. It all felt very expensive, but Lizzie decided to not let that intimidate her, she had come here on a mission and that would be her focus. Georgiana started by pulling Lizzie and Flynn into a shop filled with white, and cream colored dresses and linen pantsuits.
"Lizzie you must look in this store; everything is quite marvelous!" Georgiana exclaimed, as she started digging through the racks of dresses.
"Georgiana, I'm not sure if this is my style." Lizzie said holding up a cream colored creation that looked more like a cream puff than a dress.
Georgiana looked Lizzie up and down thoughtfully. "You're absolutely right! My apologies, Lizzie. Sometimes I get so carried away; but I know the perfect place for you."
Their next stop was a shop that looked completely odd in the pastel village, it was a grey building with red velvet drapes hanging in the window. The sign overhead was black with gold lettering that read Madame De Bourgh's creations; inside the store was an elderly woman that had to be pushing sixty. Her hair was the color of steel and her eyes were a penetrating blue, she looked Lizzie up and down as if she smelled something awful.
"Hello, Aunt Catherine." Georgiana greeted the older woman pleasantly.
"Hello, dear Georgiana. Who are these people you've brought along with you?" she questioned making people sound like a dirty word.
"This is my friend Elizabeth Bennet, and this is your great niece, Flynella." Georgiana explained, looking abashed at her Aunt not even knowing her own niece.
"Well of course I can tell that's my niece. Georgiana!" Catherine reprimanded, making Georgiana visibly cringe. "She has the Darcy coloring. The one I'm curious about is this ginger-headed girl. She looks as if she came out of the gutter." Catherine commented.
Lizzie felt her face turn crimson, at this woman's comments; she knew that her wardrobe wasn't exactly couture, but it was somewhat stylish. "My apologies, Madame," Lizzie began the sarcasm heavy in her voice, "I thought this was a shop where you bought clothes; I wasn't aware that an unwanted consultation of the customer's attire was included with the clothing." She finished, looking straight into Madame De Bourg's steely blue eyes; pretending not to hear Georgiana's muffled snickers.
Catherine was the first to speak again. "I like you girl, you have moxie. Something a lot more of these twits nowadays could use." She came out from behind the counter revealing a matronly figure. "Now tell me what you're here to buy."
After trying on a dozen dresses, it was Flynn who finally settled the dispute on which suited Lizzie best.
"I'm not sure if it suits me." Lizzie fretted, as she looked in the mirror and examined the white floor length dress Georgiana had picked out. "I'm scared I'll be tripping over the hem all evening."
"You can wear a pair of heels." Georgiana pointed out practically.
Lizzie was about to come up with another argument against the dress; when Flynn walked up holding a dress. It was a little black number, with black lace proceeding the collar, a silky black ribbon tied the lace around the neck.
"Liza-Bet," Flynn called Lizzie, because of the gap in her teeth. "I think this is a good dress." She said with a hopeful look.
Lizzie grinned at the little girl, and tugged on her long locks. "I think it looks perfect. Let me try it on."
She agreed with Flynn it was a good dress. It was slightly sexy without being revealing, and it emphasized her petite figure instead of drawing attention to her butt, or less than flat stomach. She did a twirl causing the dress to flair out.
"It's perfect!" Lizzie called, before stepping out of the dressing room; and it was because not even Madame De Bourgh had anything negative to say of it.
Mrs. Bell knew that Will would not be in a pleasant mood when he arrived at Tempest Glen. Ever since he had been a boy, and his temperament had been more pleasant, he hated flying. It had been a cold rainy afternoon, when William was around fifteen; he had been on holiday with some of his mates, and they had decided to fly back instead of taking a train. The Plane went directly through a thunderstorm; they had lost one of the engines, and it wasn't looking to well. Luckily the pilots were well trained and manged to land the plane without any casualties or any more damage, but the threat of death looming had been too much for Will.
Mrs. Bell suspected the fear of death also had a lot to do with it being a little over a year after William and Georgiana's parents deaths. With this intense fear of flying Mrs. Bell found it more than ironic that Will choose a profession where plane travel was required, but she had learned years ago how to soothe the savage beast that fear placed in him.
She first learned the time of his departure; so she could have some of the village boys that were hired to help around the estate, to warm the ancient bathhouse. It usually took around two to three hours to get the waters just hot enough. Next she started to work on her homemade Raspberry tarts. It took a little while to put them together herself, the recipe had come from her Grammy and took a good deal of effort to get the dough and fresh raspberries just right. Mrs. Bell was late in starting on the tarts, because a situation had come up with some of the party details. She was thinking that she was feeling her age; when she entered the kitchen to see Miss Bennet sitting at the rough hewn kitchen table, sipping on a teacup filled with milk.
Mrs. Bell took a moment and studied the girl. She had made an excellent nanny to both of the children; even when dealing with the wretched Caroline Bingley. This Elizabeth wasn't what you would call beautiful, she was much too short, and pixieish for that, but she was cute; adorable even. Except there was a fierceness about her when she felt threatened; or felt that someone she cared about was in danger.
The curse had never mentioned that the one to end had to be beautiful; or even human for that matter. Mrs. Bell knew that Elizabeth carried Imp blood in her veins; it was apparent in her laugh and even the way her eyes slanted upward when she smiled. Not to mention the ways her ears were pointed.
It was time. Mrs. Bell thought with a determination she hadn't felt since William's parents had fallen in love. It was time for Miss Elizabeth to meet the beast.
If it had been anyone but Mrs. Bell; William would have refused this toddler like babying. He had been traumatized as a child over a near plane crash, and Mrs Bell assumed that had a deep fear of flying.
He sighed and pushed his black hair off hair away from his face, and stripped down before entering the steaming green marble pool. The Bathhouse had been built by William's four times great grandfather who had spent a good deal of time in Japan as a boy. He had become fascinated with the Japanese people's ritualistic bathing; and when he had come of age he had a bathhouse built on the estate, but it was meant for his Japanese friends pleasure as much as his own.
William noted that the decor of this particular bathhouse was geared more towards ancient Greece instead of Japan. The floor of the bathhouse was green marble, matching the deep sunken pool in the center of the room. The walls featured murals of nymphs bathing, while young men looked on; but the one mural that really intrigued Darcy was the one depicted on the far wall of the pool. It featured a female with flame colored hair; dressed in full battle armor standing before a large black beast. It showed her laying her sword down with one hand, and with the other hand holding a bright yellow rose; in the mural it looked as if she was handing the ferocious growling beast the flower.
William didn't like looking at it for too long; it made him feel something that he had sworn since his parent's death; he would never feel...
Hope.
William shook his head clearing it of that thought, and avoided that side of the pool. After taking a couple of strokes around the pool he finally settled against the marble wall; it was nice that Mrs Bell had arranged a couple hours of relaxation before the hassle would begin.
William was in that place of dreaming, while being semi conscious of the real world; when he heard the door to the bathhouse creak open, and he dreamed the flame haired maiden from the mural was standing at the far edge of the pool staring at him.
"What do you want?" William growled at the dream woman. "You can't heal the beast." he informed her; wishing she would leave. She was making him uncomfortable. Why wasn't she speaking?
"What's wrong you can save the beast, but you can't speak?" he mocked her.
"You know your snarky even when your asleep." the flame haired woman commented.
"What?" Will growled jerking awake. He sputtered realizing that there was actually a flame haired maiden in the bathhouse with him.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in here?" Will growled at her, thinking she was some sort of nosy reporter that managed to get in the estate; or worse one Caroline's friends. "Please don't tell me you're one of Caroline's friends?"
The girl's face twisted in a expression of horror. "You could call Caroline and me; lot's of things, but friends is not one of them." she frowned shaking her head; as if picturing the horror; before turning her brown-eyed gaze back on him. "I was actually sent in here by Mrs. Bell. She sent me to bring you a few tarts and a cup of coffee."
"Oh well as long as you don't affiliate with Caroline." He sighed relaxing against the pools marble wall noting the plate of delicious looking tarts and the mug in her hands. "Bring the tarts, and coffee over here." Will ordered; motioned to the side of the pool, before closing his eyes; trying to go back to the semi relaxed state he had been in before his odd dream. After a moment when he didn't hear the girl move, he opened his eyes to see her looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
"Is there a problem?" he asked; wondering if the girl's wits were addled.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy; but even very small children know how to say please. I wasn't aware your manners were so rudimentary." She said, disdain dripping heavily in her voice.
This brought Will to attention; he moved from his relaxed position to get a better look at the girl. At first glance he assumed she was hired help from the village; but on closer inspection he saw that she had to be at least twenty-one, and that her accent was American.
"Your the Nanny; I hired." He said slowly.
"Yes I am." she said drawing herself up; as if it would make her appear taller.
"Your not much to look at." he commented, looking her up and down. She wasn't very tall, and neither waifish nor curvy; but then again you really couldn't get a good look at her figure with the baggy sweater she was wearing. Her hair was strange to say the least; with her bangs swooping across her forehead; her eyes were distinctly impish and this idea was further enforced by the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. She was no beauty; and Will felt as if cute was pushing it.
If his comment offended her; her face didn't show it; she merely grinned sweetly before chucking the tarts into the pool, and the now lukewarm coffee in his face. "At least I'm not a pompous ass!" she shouted; before turning on her heel exiting the bathhouse.
Will could only sputter as she went; wondering what sort of demon he had hired into his home.