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songstresstinyteacup · 3 days

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An alternative to “Is the weight of it all finally too much?”

Okay, so this deals with implied suicide attempts, and panicky Sibella. Do with that as you will!

Of all the things Sibella had expected to see when she arrived at High Hurst castle that day, Monty pulling a soaking wet and half-frozen Phoebe D’ysquith Navarro from the river beyond the gardens wasn’t one of them.

Monty passed off Phoebe to Marietta and Gorby, stalking inside and forcing Sibella to whirl around to try and keep up with him as Miss Shingle and Gorby began escorting Phoebe back inside.

Sibella hadn’t even had the time to shed her coat and gloves.

“Monty! Monty, whatever’s happened?” Sibella inquired, heels slamming into the ground as she tried to keep pace with him.

Monty turned around, and Sibella saw so many emotions in his eyes.

Anger.

Grief.

Concern.

Fear.

“Phoebe tried to end her life today, Sibella.” Monty’s voice was hoarse and thick with tears, tears Sibella could see he was desperately trying to hold back.

Sibella’s heart plummeted through the floor.

“What?” Her words were breathless.

Phoebe.

Her Phoebe.

Phoebe had tried to die.

Monty threw his arms up, sleeves soaked clear up to his elbows, running damp fingers through snow-speckled hair, frustration in every movement.

Then Monty stepped aside and motioned Sibella into the library, and when she did as bid, he shut the door.

“Wh- I don’t- Oh Monty.” Sibella felt her own tears welling up.

Monty was silent, eerily silent, and then after such a long pause he spoke.

“I think Phoebe found out. I think she knows what I did to her brother.” Monty’s voice broke as he all but collapsed at his desk in the library.

Sibella’s heart sank even further.

Sibella had suspected for quite some time that Monty’s meteoric rise from displaced heir to Earl wasn’t simply a streak of good luck, and she had thought Phoebe had suspected too.

Maybe Phoebe had suspected, but perhaps Phoebe hadn’t believed as Sibella had, and when it came to Phoebe’s grief for her brother, Sibella knew it still ran strong.

Oftentimes Sibella would look over at Phoebe in the gardens and catch her staring teary-eyed at the bee colonies she’d had moved from Salisbury to the castle, staring at them as if enough willpower would make Henry appear.

If Phoebe had learned that Henry had been killed by Monty, had no way to deny it to her own brain, Sibella knew she’d be distraught, but never dreamed that Phoebe would attempt to harm herself.

Sibella was snapped from her spiraling thoughts by the sound of Monty crying, and she moved to wrap her arms around him, bending as far as her corset would allow to try and soothe him.

“She’ll be alright, Monty. I’ll make sure of it.” Sibella kissed the top of his head and then took off from the library to their wing.

It made the most sense for Phoebe to be placed in her boudoir, close to the bath to warm her after Monty had calmed down, if she weren’t already in the bath.

So when Sibella finally reached the boudoir door she didn’t bother knocking, simply pushed in the door and closed it behind her.

The room was warm, almost stifling under Sibella’s coat and gloves, and in a chair by the fire sat Phoebe.

She was wrapped in no less than three blankets, but she trembled like a leaf in a storm anyway, and Mary was there trying to hand her a cup of tea but Phoebe just stared ahead.

Mary seemed to jump when she noticed Sibella, placing the teacup back on the saucer and bobbing a curtsy.

“Miss Hallward! I do apologize!” Mary offered a skittish smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes.

Sibella offered a genuine smile back, a small, sad one.

“Leave us, Mary.” Sibella commanded, pulling off her first glove.

Mary blanched, and looked from Phoebe back to Sibella.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but I was instructed to stay with her ladyship no matter what.” She stammered and Sibella huffed.

“I shall stay with the countess. You may go.” The blonde tried once more, but Mary didn’t budge.

“Take Miss Hallward’s coat and gloves and go to lunch, Mary. I’m alright.” Phoebe’s voice was almost foreign, so resigned and far away, but Mary obeyed.

After the door had closed, Phoebe sighed so heavily her entire frame seemed to crumble, head dipping down.

“Phoebe. What on earth possessed you to try such a thing?” Sibella walked toward the fire and picked up the cup from its saucer and held it out to Phoebe.

The smaller woman didn’t take it, shivering so violently Sibella could hear her teeth chattering, so Sibella extended it again.

“I didn’t try anything. I was trying to tell Monty that.” Phoebe grit out between shivers.

“Was the weight of it all finally too heavy? Phoebe this isn’t like you!” Sibella hissed, tipping Phoebe’s chin upwards with one finger, eyes blazing with anger.

Phoebe shot up, almost knocking her head into Sibella’s as she tried to take a step and tripped over one of the many blankets Mary had wrapped her in.

Sibella caught her immediately, helping untangle the blanket from Phoebe’s feet and looking her over.

“I swear to you, Sibella, I would never do that! Especially not now!” Phoebe was adamant, glaring at Sibella even though she still trembled with cold.

Sibella blinked.

What did Phoebe mean by “not now”?

Phoebe caught her gaze.

“I was walking by the river because it’s Henry’s birthday today. Every year the only thing my brother wanted was a walk by a river with me. I tripped and fell in. Monty only saw my back.” Phoebe’s words were quick, and for a moment Sibella panicked.

Had these statements been planned?

Had Phoebe planned in case one of them caught her?

Sibella hardened her gaze, looking at Phoebe in the way she knew made Monty squirm and hoped it would do the same to Phoebe.

It didn’t.

“Have you forgotten I’m a D’ysquith, Sibella? I’ve had years of experience in posturing.” Phoebe’s voice was like steel, and Sibella noticed for the first time that she’d stopped trembling.

Sibella softened her eyes, looking at Phoebe.

Very well, she could use tears and terror in equal measure.

“Darling, I just-“, Sibella took a deliberately unsteady breath, “I can’t lose you.”

The blonde looked down, and when she looked at Phoebe again there was a light misting of tears in her eyes.

Phoebe seemed to wilt.

Good.

“It was an accident, Sibella. That’s all.” Phoebe’s voice was softer, but still firm.

Phoebe grabbed her blankets and moved to the bed, opening them up and motioning for Sibella to join her.

Sibella did, sniffling as she moved to further illustrate her distress, and when she was pressed into Phoebe’s side, freezing water soaking into her own dress, Phoebe closed the blanket around them and lay back, taking Sibella with her.

They said nothing, Phoebe looking at Sibella, and then Phoebe’s freezing hands were in Sibella’s, guiding, and Sibella all but froze in place when Phoebe pressed Sibella’s hand to her own abdomen.

“That was what I wanted to tell Henry. Now I’m telling you. I would never hurt myself, or my child.” Phoebe’s voice was husky and low, even as tears welled up in both of their eyes.

“Oh, darling.” Sibella crashed her lips into Phoebe’s, kissing her hard.

An heir.

“Does Monty know?” Sibella inquired breathlessly as they pulled apart.

Phoebe shook her head, swallowing hard.

“I tried to tell him after he pulled me out. I didn’t even know he’d followed me out there, but he’s too frightened and angry.”

Phoebe’s shivering began anew, and Sibella rose.

“What are you-“ Phoebe began as Sibella pulled her to her feet, keeping one hand firmly on Phoebe’s waist.

“Let me draw you a bath, I won’t have you catching your death, especially not now.” Sibella breathed, and Phoebe thought for a moment, then nodded.

Sibella led Phoebe into the bathing chamber and deposited her onto the chaise with such gentleness that Phoebe began to get misty-eyed again.

They would tell Monty later.

He had to understand.

#gglam #monty navarro #phoebe d'ysquith #belladonnasandroses #sibella hallward #fanfiction #my writing #light angst

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isingonly4myangel · 2 years

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Sibella rehearsing her Dracula scenes with Monty and Phoebe respectively. (yes I know this is such a throwback).

Wow, 7 years of 11th of May anniversary fics! Part 4 of a piece I started almost 4 years ago, and only planned to do 2 parts with. This one has very little to do with Lionel, but given the internet's current delight with Dracula, it felt like it fit for this year :)

Monty hated dining at the club. Well, he hated dining at that club. Being an earl, of course, he’d had to accept membership invitations to several premier gentlemen’s clubs in London, but the Marlborough House Set unnerved him.

Given the history of the club, everyone was always sniffing for a scandal, whispering about activities behind closed doors. A handful of members were forever flaunting their escapades and affairs, boasting about bedding others’ wives in full hearing of the club’s occupants. Monty preferred to keep his nose out of business that was not his own, but sometimes he pondered what the club's reaction would be to his own living arrangement. Only a momentary contemplation was enough to make his heart race and palms sweat.

And it didn’t help that inquiries about Mrs. Holland always came with lecherous smiles or salacious winks, implying the imagination of all kinds of activities behind the closed doors of Highhurst Castle. Preferring to keep the less conventional aspects of his marriage private, the expectation of divulging juicy secrets set Monty on edge, and he had been only too glad when the evening had wrapped up early. No, he much preferred dining at the Savile Club, and looked forward to that meeting the following week.

Throat already free of its cravat, he unbuttoned his waistcoat as he strode down the hall. Sibella’s voice, light and melodious, floated down the hallway and lifted his spirits with sound alone. Expecting Phoebe to be with her, he knocked briefly before opening the door, so as not to surprise them.

But when he stepped through the door and met a radiant smile from Sibella, he found that she was quite alone in the room. Seated on the edge of the bed, she wore only her corset and petticoat, her blonde curls tied back with a purple ribbon- which he knew to be Phoebe’s doing. She hopped up to greet him with a kiss, and instantly he felt lighter, all the nerves of the club banished by a delicious swirl of perfume.

“How was the club?” she asked as his hands smoothed over the boning at her waist.

“Ghastly, but that’s to be expected.” She gave him a sympathetic smile and leaned up to kiss him again before making her way back to the bed. “Where’s Phoebe?”

“She’s working downstairs, but I’m sure she’ll be up soon now that you’re home.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Who were you talking to, then?” When she looked at him questioningly, he added, “I could hear you from the hall just now.”

“Oh,” she sighed, and gestured to the thickly bound manuscript on the bed beside her. “It’s this blasted script. I think I’ve got the scene, but it’s very hard to practise without looking at the page when you’ve no one else to talk to.”

Her tiny pout and pleading eyes not only asked him the question but also decided his answer. He’d never been able to resist that look.

“Very well then, move over.” Her grin brought a smile from him as well, and he sat down on the bed, picking up the manuscript. “Where shall we begin?”

“There’s a line at the start of the page that begins with ‘Oh Mina’, we can go from there. And correct me if I get a word wrong, it won’t do me any good to rehearse it incorrectly.”

Monty nodded his understanding before clearing his throat grandly, earning a giggle from Sibella. “Oh Mina, why can’t they let a girl marry more than just one man?” He turned quickly to Sibella, his brow raised in surprise, but she shot him a warning look.

“Lucy,” was her only reply, the admonishment sending his eyes back to the page.

“I don’t mean it of course, but I’ve had two proposals from two wonderful men,” he continued.

“Lucy, tell me!”

“Do you know Jack Seward?”

“The doctor?” she questioned quickly.

“Yes,” the dialogue confirmed. “He came down to see me the other day. He was so nervous, he almost managed to sit on his hat! He told me how much he cared for me, and then he asked if I thought I could love him, in time. Of course I was in tears, and when I shook my head his hands trembled.” Monty’s eyes grew serious, his voice turning somewhat forlorn as he truly realised what he was reading. “And then he asked if I cared already for anyone else, and I told him, and he took both my hands in his, and said he hoped I would be very happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him as one of the best. Oh Mina, it isn’t a happy thing to see a poor fellow whom you know loves you honestly passing quite out of your life.”

“But Lucy,” Sibella interrupted his momentary melancholy with a light tap on his knee. “Who is the other?”

“Arthur Holmwood,” he spoke brightly.

“Lord Godalming’s son?”

“Yes!” He nearly exclaimed, surprised at his own enjoyment. “Oh Mina, he is so wonderful, he absolutely swept me away! I do love him. I know I do, but I feel… I'm very confused, Mina. One minute I’m laughing, the next crying! Mina, have you ever…?” He trailed the question off as printed.

“What?” she inquired.

“I mean, with Jonathan, have you ever wanted… wanted…” He glanced over at her, somewhat perplexed.

“I don’t understand,” was her only reply.

“I can’t sleep at night Mina, and when I do I have these dreams!” Monty brought the page closer to him, intrigued by the story unfolding before him.

“What sort of dreams?”

“About Arthur! Sometimes Jack. Others too, sometimes men I don’t know and I… Last night Mina, the air was so thick and oppressive it felt like a-” He stumbled slightly over the words. “A hand on my breast pressing me down into the bed-”

“Lucy!” Sibella cut him off, and he saw the mirth in her eyes in her eyes brought by his shocked expression. “I don’t know what to say.”

He cleared his throat again before continuing. “But Arthur and I are to be married in the autumn and that, as they say, is that. You will be my maid of honour?”

“Oh, Lucy! Well, matron of honour I hope, by then.”

“Captain!”

“Oh, you can stop there.” Sibella spoke. “Mrs. Westenra enters, and then I haven’t as much to say.”

“Sibella…” he trailed off with a bemused chuckle. “This may prove to be quite a different sort of play than what I was expecting.”

“You know me, always full of surprises.” Her lips turned upward in a satisfied smile. “But did I speak everything as it is on the page?”

“Ah…” He searched the page with his eyes, realising he had become distracted from his main task. “Yes, here, I believe you said ‘I don’t understand’, when the line is ‘I’m not sure I understand.’”

“Oh, blast. Well, do it again, then, so I can get it right. We can start further down I suppose, just before Lucy mentions Arthur. Ready?” He nodded quickly, turning the page back. “But Lucy, who is the other?”

“Arthur Holmwood,” came his reply.

“Lord Godalming’s son?”

“Yes!” Better equipped a second time through, Monty found himself moving more easily through the script. “Oh Mina, he is so wonderful, he absolutely swept me away! I do love him. I know I do, but I feel… I'm very confused, Mina. One minute I’m laughing, the next crying! Mina, have you ever…?”

“What?” she asked quickly.

““I mean, with Jonathan, have you ever wanted… wanted…” He shot her a significant look before she spoke her next line.

“I’m not sure I understand,” she spoke, emphasising the correction she had made. He smiled at her before continuing.

“I can’t sleep at night Mina, and when I do I have these dreams.”

“What sort of dreams?” An idea occurred to him, decidedly not a part of the script.

“About Arthur. Sometimes Jack.” He shifted closer to her on the bed. “Others too, sometimes men I don’t know and I… Last night Mina,” he spoke her character’s name teasingly as he leaned forward into her, making her tilt back until she lay flat against the sheets, though he continued reading. “The air was so thick and oppressive,” his fingers trailed across her stomach and upward until his palm covered where the curve of her breasts met the top of her corset. “It felt like a hand on my breast pressing me down into the bed,” in accordance with the dialogue, he pressed slightly against her skin, feeling her breath catch beneath his hand.

“Lucy,” she spoke pointedly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, darling,” he breathed, dipping down to kiss her throat, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Rehearse the scene from the top with me one more time, and then we’ll talk.” She gave him a wicked smile. Heaving a sigh, he nodded in agreement, and picked up the manuscript again.

—

“It’s alright, Mina, it’s alright!” cried Phoebe. She and Sibella were in the library, and thoroughly immersed in the script pages of ‘Dracula’. Sibella had been delightfully surprised by her rehearsal with Phoebe. The brunette had more than willingly undertaken the task, and now she stood while Sibella lay draped across the settee, switching between variants of her own voice for each character she read for.

“Unclean,” Sibella spoke in a harsh whisper. “Unclean! I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh, it is I who am now his worst enemy and whom he may have most cause to fear.”

“Nonsense, Mina.” Phoebe spoke resolutely, her tone pitched slightly lower as she spoke for Jonathan. “It pains me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you, I shall not hear it from you. And may God judge and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything ever come between us!”

“Oh, Jonathan,” Sibella breathed, and sat upright to mime the scripted embrace.

“Madam Mina,” Phoebe spoke as Van Helsing, his voice closest to her own. “Later I may ask permission to hypnotise you, but for now, please tell us exactly what happened.” Interrupting herself, her voice took on Jonathan’s deeper timbre. “Van Helsing-” But had to interrupt herself again, as Van Helsing continued. “If God wills we are to deliver our loving friend from endless night, then one of our few small weapons is our knowledge! I am sorry.”

“Hold my hand, darling,” Sibella spoke, and Phoebe dropped onto the settee beside her to do just that, back to playing Jonathan. “Jonathan and I were talking here, you gentlemen were downstairs. At once there was a heaviness in the air that made my flesh crawl. I felt as if a wet mist was enveloping me, and a thousand cold fingers touched my body.”

Sibella continued on, describing mist that turned into a man, briefly summarising what the audience would have just seen, while Phoebe watched the page intently. Momentarily, Sibella drew herself up and her tone grew determined. “You must make me a full partner now in all you do. There is nothing can give me more pain than I suffer. Whatever happens can only bring me hope.

“Dear Madam Mina, it is good that you are not afraid.” Phoebe spoke as Van Helsing.

“Not for myself, for my mind is made up.”

“To what?”

“If I find in myself- and I shall, watch closely- any sign of harm to those I love, I shall take my life,” she declared.

“No-” Jonathan’s protest came from Phoebe before her Van Helsing spoke again.

“You would not kill youself?”

“I would,” Sibella spoke resolutely.

“My god, Mina,” Phoebe-Jonathan murmured before Van Helsing took over. “You must not die until the other who has fouled your sweet life is true dead. You must not die.”

“You mean I must endure this horror to whatever end it leads me?”

“My child, there are men here who would give their own lives to save you. Mock not their love.”

“What have I done?” Sibella asked incredulously. “What have I done to deserve this?”

A momentary silence fell over the library, both women still entranced by the scene they had played.

“Do you want to keep going?” Phoebe asked softly.

“No, I know the rest of it. The men make all their plans and then it’s just ‘It’s alright, Jonathan’ and then I get branded with the wafer, and I only have ‘Oh God, oh God, must I bear this’ after that.”

“Brilliant, my love! Every word was perfect.” Phoebe beamed at her.

“Was it really?” questioned Sibella delightedly. “I thought for sure a piece of the ‘wet mist’ wasn’t quite right.”

“No, I was watching the page, you were absolutely flawless.”

“Good Lord, what a miracle! I was so afraid I’d walk into tomorrow’s rehearsal and absolutely butcher it.” She pressed a relieved hand to her chest.

“You’ll be perfect, as always. But…” Sibella looked up at Phoebe, brow raised. “Would you like to try it again, just to be certain?”

Sibella nodded eagerly, and they grinned at each other before they took their places for the beginning of the scene.

#gglam #11th of may #anniversary #sibella hallward #monty navarro #phoebe d’ysquith #a gentleman's guide to love and murder #dracula #dracula daily #writings

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