[fic] Beast and Beastliness, ch. 5
Chapter 5 of ???
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance (in every sense of the word!)
Disclaimer: Disney owns the characters and storyline for their version of Beauty and the Beast. I am making no money off of this; it is an affectionate homage to one of my favorite films of all time.
Isabelle was bemused by her father's absence, but thought only that he had sought solace in a brandy snifter, or perhaps had stepped out of doors to take in the cooler night air, being rather too frail for the vigours of dancing. She was distracted soon enough by the eager gentleman who claimed her for the next dance, and soon put it out of her mind entirely in favor of trying to remember the dance's complex sequence of footwork. However, when two...three...four dances came and went with no sigh of her genial parent reappearing, then Isabelle's heart began to palpitate with worry. She flew about the Great Hall, calling out for her father and inquiring of anyone to whom she had been introduced if they had seen Mr. Morris, but alas, no one could give her any news. We shall note, where Isabelle did not, that Lord Maitland observed Isabelle's agitation with a deepening of his habitual scowl, and at length he gestured and spoke to his manservant, who nodded and vanished into the crowd. Of Lord Stonesbury there was no sign.
At last, weary and heartsick, hair in disarray and feet aching in worn out slippers, Isabelle sank into a chair and tried to collect her thoughts and come to some notion of what to do. Her brown study was cut short by the approach of Jack Baldrick, who said, "Miss Morris, please come with me."
"Why? Do you know where my father is?"
"Please come with me," Jack repeated, in the tone of one who has been carefully instructed to say just those words and no more.
Wonderingly, and not a little apprehensive, Isabelle obeyed. The little manservant led her out of Almack's and into the gaslit street, where he gestured to one of the carriages lining the walk. Isabelle hesitated, and Jack gestured again, saying, "No harm will come to you, Miss. All of your questions will be answered." Not entirely reassured, Isabelle stepped into the carriage, and they rattled away into the London night.
***
At length, the carriage halted and Isabelle stepped out. She noted first the streets - they were at the crossing of Angel Court and Angel Alley, then a cold hand of fear clutched her heart as she read the name above the door before which they had halted - and oh, how much would Isabelle have given to have the faculty of reading, which had granted her so much innocent pleasure over her seventeen years, stricken from her eyes!
"Marshalsea?" Isabelle cried. "How is this possible? Please do not tell me that my father is incarcerated in a debtor's prison!"
"Oh, but he is, Miss Morris." And none other than Lord Stonesbury himself came stepping out of the shadows and into the pale light of the street-lamp. In striking contrast to the disheveled Isabelle, he was as immaculate in appearance and dress as if he had just stepped out of his clothes-press. "They came for him this evening. It seems the final straw was an unpaid bill from a dressmaker's shop. Such a pity."
Isabelle flinched, but forced herself to regain her composure. "Please, Milord...you are a gentleman of means, with a respected name and lineage. Can you not persuade them to release my poor father? He will repay his debts as soon as he can."
"Hmph. So now she wants a favour of me. Earlier tonight you couldn't be quick enough to see the back of me - not that it is any less beautiful than any other side."
"Sir, I implore you..."
"No need to do anything unnatural, Miss Morris. I am quite prepared to help you. But there is something I will require in return."
Isabelle's heart sank still further, as she could quite easily guess what Lord Stonesbury's price would be. Gathering up her tattered spirits, she said, "Let me see my father first."
"Of course. Follow me."
They stepped through the door, and Lord Stonesbury led her through the dismal, ill-lit corridors that smelt sourly of mildew and despair. At length they came to a small, barred room, where three men sat huddled on a single narrow cot.
"Papa!" Isabelle cried. One of the men raised his head, and indeed it was Mr. Morris. He jumped off the cot and ran up to the barred window.
"Isabelle! What are you doing in this horrible place? You should be dancing!"
"Never speak of dancing again, Papa! Oh, that I had never set foot on a dance floor, but simply kept to my books!"
"Now, now; it isn't so bad as all that. I'm only here until I can pay my debts."
"And how, pray, will you do that, Papa? How are you to find the money while you're locked up in here?" Isabelle found herself fighting the impulse to weep and to laugh wildly. "The notion is absurd! I will become a governess and work off your debt."
"No, Isabelle! I won't have you throw away your chances! Leave me here!"
"This display is quite unnecessary," Lord Stonesbury announced. "I have the means to settle all of your father's debts, Miss Morris, and I shall do so, if..."
"If?"
"If you take back your earlier refusal to be my bride."
"What?" Mr. Morris exclaimed. "Isabelle, did you refuse him?"
Isabelle sighed, her heart plummeting to the soles of her ruined shoes. "Well, Milord," she said, "it seems you have outmaneuvered me and I have no choice."
"That," said a new voice from the shadows, "is not entirely correct."
Isabelle, her father, and Lord Stonesbury all turned in amazement as Lord Maitland stepped into the flickering light. Behind him stood two figures entirely in shadow.
"I am also a man of some fortune, certainly enough to cover Mr. Morris's debts, and I have summoned my financier who can have it done instantly. However, if I do this, then you, Miss Morris, must come and stay with me at my home, until your father's debt is discharged."
"Sir, how dare you make such a suggestion! I will not sell my daughter into dishonorable servitude!" Mr. Morris cried in horror.
"Oh, do not be ridiculous; I will not lay a finger upon her. The house is full of servants who can assure that there is no impropriety."
"Then what do you intend for her? Surely you will not put her to work as a scullery maid?"
"I shall do nothing of the sort. As to my intentions, they are honourable. Anything beyond that is none of your concern."
"None of my.... Sir, she is my daughter!"
Lord Stonesbury, who had been standing agape with disbelief throughout this entire exchange, now spoke: "Mr. Morris, may I remind you that I am offering honourable marriage."
"Oh, do not tire me with boasting of your virtue," Lord Maitland snapped. "It was your machinations that led to this splendid little farce in the first place."
"Sir! You are very lucky that I have no idea what you just said, for if I understood it I am quite certain I would need to demand satisfaction!"
"I would welcome the chance to draw pistol or steel against such a miserable popinjay."
"Both of you, be still!" cried Isabelle. "What a pair of monsters you are, both of you, to play upon a girl's filial devotion for your own gain, then stand over me squabbling like hens over feed! I utterly despise you both!"
She strode to stand between the two of them, fists clenched and tears flashing in the corners of her eyes.
"So, these are my choices: honourable marriage with an unread boor, mysterious servitude to a venal stranger, or a lifetime of drudgery as a governess or seamstress. Let me say, my dear lords, that the last of those prospects is looking the sweetest!"
"Isabelle, my dear girl - do not be so rash," Mr. Morris implored. "Lord Stonesbury is offering you marriage and a place in society for the rest of your life. Your fortunes would be secure."
"Yes, Papa, my 'fortunes' would be secure and my reputation would be safe, but at the cost of being locked into a life of boredom and misery with a man who cannot understand me and would scorn me if he did. At least Lord Maitland's offer is more honest."
She turned to Lord Stonesbury. "As for you, Milord, is it true that you are the one who arranged for my father to be taken to this frightful place?"
Lord Stonesbury puffed out his chest in pride. "Indeed. You see, Miss Morris, I am as much a man of influence as I am of elegance and style. It was a simple enough thing to arrange."
"I see. Then know this: I will not marry you, and I will never marry you, so long as I have breath in my body to shape the word 'No'." Turning to Lord Maitland, she fixed him with a stony glare to match his own. "Lord Maitland, I accept your offer. If you free my father, I shall go with you."
Lord Maitland gave a curt nod. "It is done, then." He turned to the pair of shadowy figures behind him. "Cogsworth, see that the gentleman's affairs are settled. Lumiere, escort the lady to my carriage.
"No, Isabelle!" Mr. Morris shouted in horror. "Think of your future!"
"My future is gone, however I choose," Isabelle said quietly. "At least I was able to free you, Papa."
"Mademoiselle, please come with me." The French manservant - Lumiere - said to Isabelle. Without another word, she turned her back on all the others, and followed him out.
---
Author's Notes
Yeah, I cheated and left Cogsworth and Lumiere with their original names...but they already sounded awfully Regency, so I couldn't think of anything better!
Marshalsea was one of London's many debtor's prisons, where people (men and women) were locked up until they could pay their debts...which of course was significantly harder to do while they were behind bars. Marshalsea is probably best know for being the prison in which Charles Dickens' father was incarcerated, forcing the young Dickens into a time of hard labor which was reflected in many of his writings.
I had originally planned for the confrontation to go slightly differently, with Lord Maitland asking Mr. Morris to work for him in exchange for his freedom, and Isabelle volunteering to take his place. This would have been closer to the original story, and would have given Isabelle a more active role in choosing her fate; on the other hand, this version gave Isabelle far more reason to hate Lord Maitland, which would make for a more satisfying "redemption arc" for my Beast and make it more of a challenge for Isabelle to fall in love with him. It was a very difficult decision, though, and I wibbled on it for a really long time.
Links to previous chapters:
Chapter 1: The Bluestocking
Chapter 2: The Beast
Chapter 3: London
Chapter 4: The Ball
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance (in every sense of the word!)
Disclaimer: Disney owns the characters and storyline for their version of Beauty and the Beast. I am making no money off of this; it is an affectionate homage to one of my favorite films of all time.
Isabelle was bemused by her father's absence, but thought only that he had sought solace in a brandy snifter, or perhaps had stepped out of doors to take in the cooler night air, being rather too frail for the vigours of dancing. She was distracted soon enough by the eager gentleman who claimed her for the next dance, and soon put it out of her mind entirely in favor of trying to remember the dance's complex sequence of footwork. However, when two...three...four dances came and went with no sigh of her genial parent reappearing, then Isabelle's heart began to palpitate with worry. She flew about the Great Hall, calling out for her father and inquiring of anyone to whom she had been introduced if they had seen Mr. Morris, but alas, no one could give her any news. We shall note, where Isabelle did not, that Lord Maitland observed Isabelle's agitation with a deepening of his habitual scowl, and at length he gestured and spoke to his manservant, who nodded and vanished into the crowd. Of Lord Stonesbury there was no sign.
At last, weary and heartsick, hair in disarray and feet aching in worn out slippers, Isabelle sank into a chair and tried to collect her thoughts and come to some notion of what to do. Her brown study was cut short by the approach of Jack Baldrick, who said, "Miss Morris, please come with me."
"Why? Do you know where my father is?"
"Please come with me," Jack repeated, in the tone of one who has been carefully instructed to say just those words and no more.
Wonderingly, and not a little apprehensive, Isabelle obeyed. The little manservant led her out of Almack's and into the gaslit street, where he gestured to one of the carriages lining the walk. Isabelle hesitated, and Jack gestured again, saying, "No harm will come to you, Miss. All of your questions will be answered." Not entirely reassured, Isabelle stepped into the carriage, and they rattled away into the London night.
***
At length, the carriage halted and Isabelle stepped out. She noted first the streets - they were at the crossing of Angel Court and Angel Alley, then a cold hand of fear clutched her heart as she read the name above the door before which they had halted - and oh, how much would Isabelle have given to have the faculty of reading, which had granted her so much innocent pleasure over her seventeen years, stricken from her eyes!
"Marshalsea?" Isabelle cried. "How is this possible? Please do not tell me that my father is incarcerated in a debtor's prison!"
"Oh, but he is, Miss Morris." And none other than Lord Stonesbury himself came stepping out of the shadows and into the pale light of the street-lamp. In striking contrast to the disheveled Isabelle, he was as immaculate in appearance and dress as if he had just stepped out of his clothes-press. "They came for him this evening. It seems the final straw was an unpaid bill from a dressmaker's shop. Such a pity."
Isabelle flinched, but forced herself to regain her composure. "Please, Milord...you are a gentleman of means, with a respected name and lineage. Can you not persuade them to release my poor father? He will repay his debts as soon as he can."
"Hmph. So now she wants a favour of me. Earlier tonight you couldn't be quick enough to see the back of me - not that it is any less beautiful than any other side."
"Sir, I implore you..."
"No need to do anything unnatural, Miss Morris. I am quite prepared to help you. But there is something I will require in return."
Isabelle's heart sank still further, as she could quite easily guess what Lord Stonesbury's price would be. Gathering up her tattered spirits, she said, "Let me see my father first."
"Of course. Follow me."
They stepped through the door, and Lord Stonesbury led her through the dismal, ill-lit corridors that smelt sourly of mildew and despair. At length they came to a small, barred room, where three men sat huddled on a single narrow cot.
"Papa!" Isabelle cried. One of the men raised his head, and indeed it was Mr. Morris. He jumped off the cot and ran up to the barred window.
"Isabelle! What are you doing in this horrible place? You should be dancing!"
"Never speak of dancing again, Papa! Oh, that I had never set foot on a dance floor, but simply kept to my books!"
"Now, now; it isn't so bad as all that. I'm only here until I can pay my debts."
"And how, pray, will you do that, Papa? How are you to find the money while you're locked up in here?" Isabelle found herself fighting the impulse to weep and to laugh wildly. "The notion is absurd! I will become a governess and work off your debt."
"No, Isabelle! I won't have you throw away your chances! Leave me here!"
"This display is quite unnecessary," Lord Stonesbury announced. "I have the means to settle all of your father's debts, Miss Morris, and I shall do so, if..."
"If?"
"If you take back your earlier refusal to be my bride."
"What?" Mr. Morris exclaimed. "Isabelle, did you refuse him?"
Isabelle sighed, her heart plummeting to the soles of her ruined shoes. "Well, Milord," she said, "it seems you have outmaneuvered me and I have no choice."
"That," said a new voice from the shadows, "is not entirely correct."
Isabelle, her father, and Lord Stonesbury all turned in amazement as Lord Maitland stepped into the flickering light. Behind him stood two figures entirely in shadow.
"I am also a man of some fortune, certainly enough to cover Mr. Morris's debts, and I have summoned my financier who can have it done instantly. However, if I do this, then you, Miss Morris, must come and stay with me at my home, until your father's debt is discharged."
"Sir, how dare you make such a suggestion! I will not sell my daughter into dishonorable servitude!" Mr. Morris cried in horror.
"Oh, do not be ridiculous; I will not lay a finger upon her. The house is full of servants who can assure that there is no impropriety."
"Then what do you intend for her? Surely you will not put her to work as a scullery maid?"
"I shall do nothing of the sort. As to my intentions, they are honourable. Anything beyond that is none of your concern."
"None of my.... Sir, she is my daughter!"
Lord Stonesbury, who had been standing agape with disbelief throughout this entire exchange, now spoke: "Mr. Morris, may I remind you that I am offering honourable marriage."
"Oh, do not tire me with boasting of your virtue," Lord Maitland snapped. "It was your machinations that led to this splendid little farce in the first place."
"Sir! You are very lucky that I have no idea what you just said, for if I understood it I am quite certain I would need to demand satisfaction!"
"I would welcome the chance to draw pistol or steel against such a miserable popinjay."
"Both of you, be still!" cried Isabelle. "What a pair of monsters you are, both of you, to play upon a girl's filial devotion for your own gain, then stand over me squabbling like hens over feed! I utterly despise you both!"
She strode to stand between the two of them, fists clenched and tears flashing in the corners of her eyes.
"So, these are my choices: honourable marriage with an unread boor, mysterious servitude to a venal stranger, or a lifetime of drudgery as a governess or seamstress. Let me say, my dear lords, that the last of those prospects is looking the sweetest!"
"Isabelle, my dear girl - do not be so rash," Mr. Morris implored. "Lord Stonesbury is offering you marriage and a place in society for the rest of your life. Your fortunes would be secure."
"Yes, Papa, my 'fortunes' would be secure and my reputation would be safe, but at the cost of being locked into a life of boredom and misery with a man who cannot understand me and would scorn me if he did. At least Lord Maitland's offer is more honest."
She turned to Lord Stonesbury. "As for you, Milord, is it true that you are the one who arranged for my father to be taken to this frightful place?"
Lord Stonesbury puffed out his chest in pride. "Indeed. You see, Miss Morris, I am as much a man of influence as I am of elegance and style. It was a simple enough thing to arrange."
"I see. Then know this: I will not marry you, and I will never marry you, so long as I have breath in my body to shape the word 'No'." Turning to Lord Maitland, she fixed him with a stony glare to match his own. "Lord Maitland, I accept your offer. If you free my father, I shall go with you."
Lord Maitland gave a curt nod. "It is done, then." He turned to the pair of shadowy figures behind him. "Cogsworth, see that the gentleman's affairs are settled. Lumiere, escort the lady to my carriage.
"No, Isabelle!" Mr. Morris shouted in horror. "Think of your future!"
"My future is gone, however I choose," Isabelle said quietly. "At least I was able to free you, Papa."
"Mademoiselle, please come with me." The French manservant - Lumiere - said to Isabelle. Without another word, she turned her back on all the others, and followed him out.
---
Author's Notes
Yeah, I cheated and left Cogsworth and Lumiere with their original names...but they already sounded awfully Regency, so I couldn't think of anything better!
Marshalsea was one of London's many debtor's prisons, where people (men and women) were locked up until they could pay their debts...which of course was significantly harder to do while they were behind bars. Marshalsea is probably best know for being the prison in which Charles Dickens' father was incarcerated, forcing the young Dickens into a time of hard labor which was reflected in many of his writings.
I had originally planned for the confrontation to go slightly differently, with Lord Maitland asking Mr. Morris to work for him in exchange for his freedom, and Isabelle volunteering to take his place. This would have been closer to the original story, and would have given Isabelle a more active role in choosing her fate; on the other hand, this version gave Isabelle far more reason to hate Lord Maitland, which would make for a more satisfying "redemption arc" for my Beast and make it more of a challenge for Isabelle to fall in love with him. It was a very difficult decision, though, and I wibbled on it for a really long time.
Links to previous chapters:
Chapter 1: The Bluestocking
Chapter 2: The Beast
Chapter 3: London
Chapter 4: The Ball