Chapter Text
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
― W.B. Yeats
The redheaded governess with small circle glasses perched on her nose looked solemnly down at the sleeping baby. Pity emanates from the woman. The child, abandoned and helpless, in a world bestowing tragedy after tragedy upon its family. Left both motherless at birth, and now without a father the baby has known great loss before reaching its first birthday. The woman has always been responsible for the child's well being, but she never knew it would be this permanent.
A small cry pulls the woman out of her trance and she reaches for the baby. Picking it up and hushing the pitiful wails she glances around the room. It is the only one still left moderately intact. The crib, changing table, dresser and toys all in their rightful place, accompanied with one simple, but elegant rocking chair in the corner. With the door closed you can almost pretend the rest of the house looks the same. However, opening the door shows a more sad reality, many things are boxed up and compiled, most of it has been sold. What hasn’t sold, and holds no necessity value will simply have to be left. One carriage is enough money to leave both her and the baby as beggars. That being said anything more than their couple of luggage bags will have to be deemed frivolous. It brings her sadness, however, thinking about it, the modestly but beautifully furnished townhouse in London was to hold a new beginning for the family. It was where George and Elizabeth Merryweather would raise their child, it was what they both worked endlessly to achieve and maintain.
She sighed, and looked back down to the baby once again. She knew what had to be done, and she would do it without hesitation. George and Elizabeth didn’t talk about their past much, and when they did it was brief. Any further pushing of the topic caused tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. She was a respectable woman and valued others privacy as much as she did her own. However, she couldn’t help but wonder what they had to run away from, what could’ve been so bad. This only amplified with them both gone, and the cryptic note from Mr. Merryweather regarding where to take their child.
She recalled Mrs. Merryweathers family sending letters, and her corresponding back accordingly, however Mr. Merryweather’s had never received any letters other than bank statements and that of his dealings. This was a shock seeing that the note was instructions to take the child to the sole brother of Mr. Merryweather upon any untimely demise. Even more of a shock that he was located not in London, but the countryside. She was indeed a woman of her word however, and would make sure that the child would be in safe hands. Even if the hands were of a relative that was not known until the death of the child’s father just mere weeks ago.
Within the letter, there was an address. She had sent correspondence ahead stating the circumstances and that she would be arriving in three and a half weeks time. She had hoped to receive a letter back confirming, but here she is one day left to go and nothing has arrived. “ Oh well ” she thought “ This brother will be seeing us whether he wants it or not ” ending with a huff. She rocked the child once more and layed it back down into the crib and made her way to the chair.
She sat down and closed her eyes whilst rubbing her temples. A long deep breath escaped her as if she had been holding it in since the beginning of this. There is no time to breathe when the house is being toured to appraise and sell, nor when you’re haggling with men a women over prices on every last item in it. She feels fortunate however that she nor the child does not face a tragic fate as well. Mr. Merryweather did his best to keep the family afloat, even till the very end. Lenders are ruthless and see nothing but profit. They thrive off of the weak and those who cannot pay, and Mr. Merryweather knew that, yet took the chance anyway. She knows in her heart of hearts that the girl needed a father more than she needed luxury, but she daren’t say that outloud, so as to not discredit the efforts of a dead man, she didn’t. Instead she sold what she could, including the house as instructed by the note left, and paid what was owed. This left little for the two of them, a pitiful amount considering what was given up. However it was better than facing immediate danger with some unsavory men. She’d gladly take the small lump sum and do without than take any chances.
She woke with a start not remembering when she fell asleep, but it was soon after recounting the events of the past few weeks. Checking the clock eased her back into the chair, she still has time before the carriage arrives. There is not much to do but prepare mentally, as the meager excuse of belongings for the two of them are already packed and ready. She dressed the baby fully and grabbed it’s swaddle. She decided then however, that breakfast would be a wonderful idea before their long journey and went downstairs to prepare something quick.
After feeding both her and the baby, she noted her punctual sense of time, either that or coincidence. They finished up just as the knock boomed throughout the house. If she didn’t know any better it would’ve made her jump out of her stockings. Hurrying towards the door she pulled it open and greeted the driver.
“ Hello ” she says, her lips instinctively turning upwards as to be polite.
“ Hello, mam ” the driver replies while lifting his hat and giving a slight bow.
“ Heliotrope ” she adds, “ Miss Heliotrope ”.
“ Miss Heliotrope, ” “ I beg your pardon ” he greets once again with a nod of his head.
She showed him in with a swift hand gesture towards the small pile of suitcases.
“ That’ll be all that will need loaded ”.
He swiftly began picking them up and hurried back out the way he came, she used this time to swaddle the baby and place it in the small basket, then gather her handbag and other small carry-on.
Soon he returned and retrieved the last suitcase and outstretched a hand toward her carry-on.
“ Allow me ” he says taking the bag from her alleviating the weight.
“ You wish this to remain with you ” ? He asks.
“ Yes, in the coach. Thank you ”. She affirms.
She follows out the door behind him, and stops on the porch. Setting the basket down, and digging threw her handbag she retrieves the envelope holding the set of keys, and locks the door behind her. Returning the keys to the envelope she seals it, then deposits it into the mailbox. With a last glance she gazes up at the house and the expanse of now shriveled vines caused by the previous winter frosts that climb its front. She lets out a sigh. Then suddenly with a huff she turns on her heel and with caution lifts the basket up again to hold and gazes at the small form.
“ Are you ready ”? She whispers so softly it would’ve gone unheard by anyone listening.
The baby gazes back and replies with a blink and hum of approval.
With that, Miss Heliotrope walked down the steps, and loaded into the carriage. The driver jogs to her side to settle her in and shut the door. Once alone again, she looks out the door window, waiting for the carriage to take off.
“ This is it, Maria ”. She says.
A gurgle is heard in response and nothing else before Mrs. Heliotropes brow furrowed. She then adjusts her glasses to focus solely on the sight before her. The once dead vines covering the house were now green as grass and in full bloom. She blinks several times trying to make sense of it, but before she got a second glance the carriage pulled away.