Disclaimer: I own nothing. Mary Poppins and the other characters belong to PL Travers and Disney… the characters in this fic in particular actually belong to Disney. The story is based on the movie, not the books. I make no money of this, I'm just having fun.
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Constance Rose was a beautiful young woman with the most gorgeous blue eyes and auburn hair locals at Banstead, Surrey had ever seen. At 17 her pretty figure and beautiful features made men constantly turn their heads whenever she passed them by. That there was always a smile on her face made her practically glow, puzzling all those who knew her. It made her quite an odd young girl given her background. She was only a few weeks old when she was discovered on the steps of the local orphanage. There was no note as to who she was and why she was abandoned. There were no witnesses who could have seen how she got there either. The only clue the workers of the orphanage had was the fresh footsteps on wet ground, but even those were soon destroyed by the heavy November rain.
Since no newborn baby was reported –or noted—missing from the surrounding area, they concluded she had to have been brought in from somewhere else. Despite having been abandoned and being rather frail and sick for quite long, she had been nothing but a good natured, fun loving girl, even as a baby. So she was named Constance after her constant smile and given the last name Rose for her always rosy cheeks. The name turned out awfully appropriate, she was well loved by the other children as well as her care takers. She seemed to find joy in everything in order to shut out the gloomy side of life. Her only family was the orphanage whose occupants kept coming and going. That nobody ended up adopting her didn't seem to get to her, not on the outside at least. There were two or three couples that had initially shown interest but for some reason they all changed their minds. Despite her surroundings, the girl grew up to mind her manners, be highly perceptive and possess a grace of the high society's caliber. It was only the clothes that gave away her social status.
It was 1867 when the 17 year old first met a then 20 year old young man, named Alastair. It was love at first sight for both even if their personalities were quite different. Alastair was often described as proud, even conceited at times but his fun loving nature and commitment was a great lure as well as the perfect complementation of Constance's gentle, loving and warm demeanor. That he possessed noble blood while she was poor was their biggest difference, albeit it bothered neither of them. It did cause a major issue when, a year later, Alastair announced to his family that he had asked Constance to marry him. There was no great enthusiasm among them to welcome a poor orphan girl to the family that was so proud of its aristocratic ties, even if their status had considerably faded since their heyday generations ago. But the young man, whose father had died in the Crimean war, was determined to go through with the wedding, with or without the family's consent. Although reluctantly but they eventually relented and soon Constance Rose left the orphanage to begin a new, married life.
Although the marriage itself was happy, there was no day going by without someone reminding her of the status difference – all without Alastair's presence, of course. As he matured he clearly became the man of the house so neither his sisters nor any other family member wanted to disrespect him. Respecting Constance was another matter. While they grew to accept her as a part of the family and there were no ongoing tension, there was a certain distance between the young wife and the relatives of Alastair. That wasn't what had her usual cheery demeanor continuously fading, however. Four years into the marriage they still hadn't been blessed with a child and that had all the family disappointed for numerous reasons. While both Alastair and Constance hoped for one to complete their lives, the rest of the family found it shameful for them to be childless, finding yet another thing to be displeased with. The family doctor concluded she evidently wasn't fertile, which saddened the couple. Given her background Constance occasionally mentioned the idea of adopting from the orphanage but unfortunately Alastair, although for different reasons, seemed to agree with his family that it was unacceptable.
Eventually Alastair's insistence paid off, for one sunny afternoon, Constance hurriedly walked the halls of the house, to, of course, find her husband in his study. The door hadn't even fully opened yet but Alastair was already certain of the identity of his visitor. His beloved wife was the only one who never knocked when she came to see him – and the only person who was allowed to enter in such fashion. Glad to take a break from studying the family's worrying finances, he rose from his chair to meet his wife.
"Alastair, I need to speak with you."
Encircling her in his arms, he smiled. "Is it urgent, darling? Maybe we could do something better rather than talk…"
"Oh, Alastair." She swatted him gently on the chest. "I have something to tell you." She grinned excitedly.
"Do you?" He asked before pressing a soft kiss on her lips, evidently intent on convincing her to do it his way.
"I'm pregnant." She blurted out.
It took the news a few moments to register on his mind for he stared at her blankly, half expecting her to be joking. But there was no mistaking in the twinkling blue eyes, the rosier than usual cheeks and the brightest smile he had ever seen on her face.
"You're… you're pregnant?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Yes!"
"Are you sure? Constance, are you absolutely certain?" He asked, dead serious.
But his wife wasn't surprised about his hesitation, nor would she joke about something like this. She nodded eagerly.
"I've suspected it for a while but didn't want to raise false alarm. I saw Doctor Barclay today and he confirmed my condition. We are expecting a baby!"
A smile finally spread across her husband's face and he laughed in delight before picking her up and spinning her around. Then he remembered how long it took for her to get pregnant and immediately put her down.
"How foolish of me." He said. "You've got to rest. What else did the doctor say? Are you both healthy, are there any necessary precautions need to be taken?"
"Now, don't start with that, love." She warned him. "He did say I need to stay put and rest as much as I can but…." That was all that Alastair needed, without further ado he bent down and picked her up.
"Then you are going to rest, dear wife, and that's an order." Constance laughed and snuck an arm around his neck while he carried her back to their room.
To her delight, he didn't immediately return to his study but laid down on the bed with her instead, hugging her to him and lovingly stroking her upper arm. She rested her head on his chest, enjoying this rare moment during the day with her husband. He was always so busy, it was mainly the late afternoons and the nights that they could really spend alone.
"Do you think we'll have a boy or a girl?" She asked.
"I don't know, but it doesn't matter." He smiled. "What I'm sure of is that we'll have a wonderful child."
"Maybe we'll have a little boy… a spitting image of you."
"Or a little girl… as beautiful as her mother." She smiled at his words and raised her head to press a soft kiss on his lips.
"I hope the family will take the news well."
"They will be delighted." He told her softly and squeezed her gently. Constance wasn't so sure about that, sometimes she got the feeling he didn't quite notice the gap that still existed between her and his family. But she would never trouble him with such ideas, he had been very preoccupied with the family business and being a girl who had had and came from nothing, she was just appreciative of everything she had now.
Constance's doubts, although only partially, proved to be founded. There was relief and even some celebration when it was revealed that she was with child, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was some disappointment, too. She had long suspected that the family would have loved Alastair to leave her on grounds of being unable to bear him a child. But Constance never wished ill on anyone, neither was it in her nature to pick a fight. It was her husband who was ready for whatever battle necessary. Nevertheless, what she considered to be a miracle after the doctor's diagnosis, was nothing more than a natural development for the family, making her feel as if achieving the simplest nature given joy had her challenged. That one of Alistair's sisters, Wilhelmina, was much older yet unmarried and childless seemed to be naturally tolerated while Constance's struggle to get pregnant was considered a shortcoming. But even that couldn't cloud her joy over her pregnancy.
What did take a toll on her were the following months. It soon became clear that it wasn't only a miracle pregnancy but also a difficult one. She was ordered to bed rest and she had to be carefully observed. The doctor wasn't satisfied with her progress but Constance did everything that she was told. Her days passed slowly and somewhat lonely. Before the pregnancy she would spend her time outside, either helping the others around the house or taking a stroll in the garden but that was out of the question for the time being. The financial troubles of the family, which she only suspected by the constant frown on her husband's face, kept Alastair very busy, too. But he seemed intent on not troubling her with it so he refused to talk about it with her. At nights they were busy discussing their future and trying to come up with names which took her mind off her weakened state.
"Wilbur! " Alastair exclaimed which in turn made his wife grimace in dislike.
"Abner?" She suggested, drawing a reaction much similar to her own.
"What do you say about Archer?" He asked and for a moment she considered it.
"I'd take Cecil over that one."
"Angus?" Alastair offered.
"Mhm." She considered it. "I like it." She smiled.
Coming up with a name for a girl proved to be much harder. Alastair really supported the idea to name the child, if it would be a girl, after her mother, but oddly, Constance sided with his family on that matter. Her name had a story behind it and she didn't want it to be her daughter's. Her child would have a family and would not be abandoned like she had been if Constance had anything to do about it. As for the family, they wanted something more aristocratic, something that would fit right in to their rank. The upside of it for Constance was that they definitely had a warmer attitude to the child's arrival to the family than its mother's back then. They often underestimated her, lacking to realize that she had her wits despite not having had the opportunity to attend good schools. So she had no doubt about the fact that they intended to groom the child as part of a highly esteemed family. Constance didn't mind, she had learned to deal with feeling the odd one out, it was only her child she would absolutely protest to be treated badly. Alastair's family very much wanted the baby to be named after the matriarch, Adelaide, who, coincidentally, had been the hardest to win over in the first place. Her mother-in-law never quite warmed to her and even in her old age remained convinced that a poor orphan should have stuck to her own kind.
Constance refused to get upset about it but she didn't need to, either. Alastair, who had assumed the role of the leader of the family, had made it clear that the decision would be his and Constance's alone and they would let everyone know as soon as the baby was born and the gender was determined. What made her really happy was that her husband never made her feel anything less than his equal. That the family did not hold the rank that they tried to live up to was somewhat amusing to her. While they were still respected and had a well known history, along with several other families, they had lost their real dominant status. Constance had made a vow to herself to teach her child that what really mattered was what was in the heart and not in the blood.
Going into labor was beyond her expectations and did not feel as wondrous as painful. The doctor had warned that it was going to be difficult, what Constance didn't know was that Alastair was alerted that his wife may not make it through. It was the most painful four hours of her life and the most stressful for him. The others gathered in the lounge of the family residence to show him support but neither Alastair nor his wife paid them much attention. He continued walking up and down by the door of their bedroom, hating every single painful moan or scream that he could hear from the inside. He wanted to be by his her side, to hold her hand and do whatever he could but the Doctor had ordered him to leave the room.
All Constance could think of was her baby. She felt weak and hot, lightheaded and nauseous at once. The intense focus on the doctor's face made her both worried and reassured. The latter for he was obviously doing his best but the former for the fact that something didn't seem right. When she was asked to push again, it felt like she was asked to take her final breath. It was painful and oh so hard and all she wanted to do was rest and sleep. But her baby wasn't born yet, she knew that, so she mustered all her hidden strength and pushed.
A while later Alastair sat in a chair outside, his face buried in his hands. If the screams were hard to hear, then the silence was ten times worse. He anxiously awaited any kind of news and he couldn't stand upright anymore. He feared the worst but dared not to barge into the room. And then, bringing the greatest relief he had ever heard, crying hit his ears. The little voice unmistakably belonged to a baby and it soon became obvious it wasn't so little after all. He was standing by the door by the time the Doctor opened it, wiping the sweat from his own face with one, and holding a little bundle in the other.
"Congratulations." The doctor told him and carefully handed the baby to the awestruck father. The creature in his arms was very tiny, so very little and for a moment he worried he would do harm to the little body.
"You have a daughter." The doctor interrupted his reverie but it was an information Alastair did not need. Just a look at the baby in his arms revealed the same beautiful eyes that her mother had. That brought his thoughts back to Constance and his stomach tightened in a knot. His head snapped up to the doctor.
"My wife?" Was all he managed to ask, containing his anxiety upon the Doctor's troubled face.
"She's asleep." He told her. "She was too weak to hold her. It was touch and go for a while, Sir, but I'm confident she can make it. She needs plenty of fluids and a lot of rest. I'll continue to frequently monitor her in the upcoming days."
"Can I see her?"
"Certainly, but I'll have to ask for your understanding and advise you not to keep her up long."
"Thank you, Doctor."
The sight that greeted him inside the room would have horrified him had the joy and relief not bubble in his veins already. The lights were dim and the nurse nodded and bowed a little in greeting before she hurried outside with the dirty sheets.
Although she appeared to have been cleaned, the many covers she was under evidently made his sleeping wife hot. Her hair was still damp and fresh sweat glistened on her skin as he carefully lowered himself on the bed right next to her. The baby had stopped crying a while ago and looked peacefully asleep, too, in her father's arms. Alastair extended a hand to gently caress his wife's face, trying to wake her as carefully as possible. She stirred upon his touch and he smiled at her when her eyes slowly focused on him.
"Darling." He whispered, wiping a stray lock away from her sticky forehead. "You did it. Meet your daughter, Miss Mary Poppins."
A tired but emotional smile spread across her face when the beautiful face of their little daughter came into view.
To Be Continued…