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fandomweekly2020-12-13 04:04 am
fleuretteffoulkes) wrote in fandomweekly2020-12-13 04:04 am
Entry tags:
[#077] Scottish Affairs and French Mistresses (Scarlet Pimpernel)
Theme Prompt: #077 - Confession
Title: Scottish Affairs and French Mistresses
Fandom: The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 798
Summary: Jeremiah has a lie to confess to his wife, but it's not what she fears it is.
Note: Mouseover for French translations. (Sorry, I'm not sure how to make them work on mobile.)
"I missed you, Miah," Mary said, running the brush through her hair with practiced movements. "Did you complete your business in Scotland?" She didn't look up from her dressing table as she spoke. It was nearly nine, and if her husband wanted to come home late instead of staying one more night at some roadside inn, that was his decision, but she didn't suppose it meant she had to make herself all presentable and meet him in the drawing room. The sooner they were both ready for bed, the better, as far as she was concerned. Anne was already asleep in the nursery; it would just be the two of them, after a week's separation. "I'm glad you're home," she added.
Jeremiah still hadn't spoken, and she stood up, ready to throw her arms around his neck and welcome him more properly—but when she turned to face him, she saw that he was holding a ragged little girl in his arms.
"I wasn't in Scotland," he said, and Mary's heart caught. "This is Madeleine." He set the little girl down on the chest of drawers, and took Mary's hands in his.
"Are you—I mean, is she—" Jeremiah couldn't have been having an affair. He just couldn't. It was unthinkable.
The girl must be four or five; she would have been conceived before their marriage. Surely he would have told her if he had had a mistress.
"It's not what you think," Jeremiah said, kissing her forehead gently. "That is, I don't know what you think. Perhaps you've guessed. All these trips to Scotland...I actually haven't been to Scotland since my Grand Tour. I—" He stumbled to a stop, and Mary stared up at him. Her beloved husband had been lying to her, all along. What would she and Anne do now?
"Miah, j'ai faim," said Madeleine, and Mary blinked. The mistress must be French—except that it was so terribly dangerous in France these days; it would be foolish to sneak over there merely to meet a lover. Smugglers went to France sometimes in pursuit of wealth, and the Scarlet Pimpernel and his men went there to smuggle a righteous but even more dangerous cargo, but was Mary so unsatisfactory that Jeremiah would—
Oh.
"Nous te trouvera du lait," Jeremiah said, as Mary stared. "Peux-tu dire 'bonsoir' à ma femme?"
"Bonsoir, Ma'ame," Madeleine lisped.
"Bonsoir, Madeleine," Mary said. "Miah, is she—"
"One moment." He tugged the bell pull, and their maid appeared almost immediately. "Sarah, could you please take Madeleine to the kitchen for some milk? I'm afraid she doesn't speak much English yet. Madeleine, voici Sarah. Elle va te obtenir du lait. Peux-tu l'accompagner?"
The little girl nodded and followed Sarah out of the room. Jeremiah shut the door and turned earnestly to Mary. "Her parents were guillotined," he said. "The Scarlet Pimpernel is trying to find out if she has any living relatives, but if not, I hoped you might be willing to be a mother to her. You've been a wonderful mother to Anne, and I'm sure nobody would be better at taking care of this little girl. And she needs so much looking after. You should have seen her on the journey across France; she was so afraid but she started to trust us after a while. I made her laugh once."
"And so...you serve the Scarlet Pimpernel," Mary said. She could feel herself fighting back hysterical laughter. Of all the things to lie about.
Jeremiah's face, in contrast, was terribly grave. He clasped Mary's hands in his once more, and went down on one knee before her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said. "I couldn't. We swore that we would tell no one."
"And yet you're telling me now," Mary said, smiling.
"Well, the Chief agreed that it would be too much to ask of you to take in a child without knowing where she came from, and how," Jeremiah said. "And I...must admit that I didn't suggest any other options. I wanted terribly to tell you. I've kept this secret from you for so long, and I hate lying to you."
"I hate having you lie to me, too," Mary said. She knelt down too, and leaned forward and kissed him gently. "But of all the things you could have been lying about, this is the one that's easiest to forgive." She wrapped him in her arms, and let him return the embrace, his head nestled against the side of her neck. "She's a sweet girl. I expect I'll enjoy being a mother to her just as much as I've enjoyed being one to Anne."
"Dearest Mary," Jeremiah whispered. "Thank you. And please forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," she said, and kissed him again.
Title: Scottish Affairs and French Mistresses
Fandom: The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 798
Summary: Jeremiah has a lie to confess to his wife, but it's not what she fears it is.
Note: Mouseover for French translations. (Sorry, I'm not sure how to make them work on mobile.)
"I missed you, Miah," Mary said, running the brush through her hair with practiced movements. "Did you complete your business in Scotland?" She didn't look up from her dressing table as she spoke. It was nearly nine, and if her husband wanted to come home late instead of staying one more night at some roadside inn, that was his decision, but she didn't suppose it meant she had to make herself all presentable and meet him in the drawing room. The sooner they were both ready for bed, the better, as far as she was concerned. Anne was already asleep in the nursery; it would just be the two of them, after a week's separation. "I'm glad you're home," she added.
Jeremiah still hadn't spoken, and she stood up, ready to throw her arms around his neck and welcome him more properly—but when she turned to face him, she saw that he was holding a ragged little girl in his arms.
"I wasn't in Scotland," he said, and Mary's heart caught. "This is Madeleine." He set the little girl down on the chest of drawers, and took Mary's hands in his.
"Are you—I mean, is she—" Jeremiah couldn't have been having an affair. He just couldn't. It was unthinkable.
The girl must be four or five; she would have been conceived before their marriage. Surely he would have told her if he had had a mistress.
"It's not what you think," Jeremiah said, kissing her forehead gently. "That is, I don't know what you think. Perhaps you've guessed. All these trips to Scotland...I actually haven't been to Scotland since my Grand Tour. I—" He stumbled to a stop, and Mary stared up at him. Her beloved husband had been lying to her, all along. What would she and Anne do now?
"Miah, j'ai faim," said Madeleine, and Mary blinked. The mistress must be French—except that it was so terribly dangerous in France these days; it would be foolish to sneak over there merely to meet a lover. Smugglers went to France sometimes in pursuit of wealth, and the Scarlet Pimpernel and his men went there to smuggle a righteous but even more dangerous cargo, but was Mary so unsatisfactory that Jeremiah would—
Oh.
"Nous te trouvera du lait," Jeremiah said, as Mary stared. "Peux-tu dire 'bonsoir' à ma femme?"
"Bonsoir, Ma'ame," Madeleine lisped.
"Bonsoir, Madeleine," Mary said. "Miah, is she—"
"One moment." He tugged the bell pull, and their maid appeared almost immediately. "Sarah, could you please take Madeleine to the kitchen for some milk? I'm afraid she doesn't speak much English yet. Madeleine, voici Sarah. Elle va te obtenir du lait. Peux-tu l'accompagner?"
The little girl nodded and followed Sarah out of the room. Jeremiah shut the door and turned earnestly to Mary. "Her parents were guillotined," he said. "The Scarlet Pimpernel is trying to find out if she has any living relatives, but if not, I hoped you might be willing to be a mother to her. You've been a wonderful mother to Anne, and I'm sure nobody would be better at taking care of this little girl. And she needs so much looking after. You should have seen her on the journey across France; she was so afraid but she started to trust us after a while. I made her laugh once."
"And so...you serve the Scarlet Pimpernel," Mary said. She could feel herself fighting back hysterical laughter. Of all the things to lie about.
Jeremiah's face, in contrast, was terribly grave. He clasped Mary's hands in his once more, and went down on one knee before her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said. "I couldn't. We swore that we would tell no one."
"And yet you're telling me now," Mary said, smiling.
"Well, the Chief agreed that it would be too much to ask of you to take in a child without knowing where she came from, and how," Jeremiah said. "And I...must admit that I didn't suggest any other options. I wanted terribly to tell you. I've kept this secret from you for so long, and I hate lying to you."
"I hate having you lie to me, too," Mary said. She knelt down too, and leaned forward and kissed him gently. "But of all the things you could have been lying about, this is the one that's easiest to forgive." She wrapped him in her arms, and let him return the embrace, his head nestled against the side of her neck. "She's a sweet girl. I expect I'll enjoy being a mother to her just as much as I've enjoyed being one to Anne."
"Dearest Mary," Jeremiah whispered. "Thank you. And please forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," she said, and kissed him again.