AN: Well, here it is. I hope you enjoy this ridiculous little homage to the genre. Actually, I'm just being humble; this is my master work, and I only ask that you not become too jealous when WW Norton calls me up and asks to publish it as part of the canon. Until then (and I've got my cell phone set to ring, sir) the characters are not mine and I cheerfully admit the whole fraud. It's not currently complete, although I know more or less where it's going. It will probably end up being much longer than it should be (I suspect it already is), but I should warn you that I am physically incapable of writing long chapters. Finally, all characters are based on movie characterizations because they're cute and/or sexy and it gives me an excuse to search for more pictures. The work as a whole is dedicated to Cupcake, who will never read this, except for the second chapter which is dedicated to Miss Flossy.
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When the clock struck midnight, Jenny was still slumped in her chair, staring dully into the fire. She roused herself up, and set off down the hall to check on the children, still deep in thought.
She had spent more time indoors over the last month than she had in her entire life, and now was beginning to dread the future. Is this how it will be now? Will I have to stay in and watch the children all day, until the baby is grown?
There was one question she did not need to ask herself, and that was whether she would ever regain the bliss of her former life. Mother had died only three weeks ago, leaving behind eight children besides Jenny. The memory was still painful, and she suspected she would never really get over it. Life without Mother was already proving to be much harder. The servants were unsure of themselves, the children never stopped crying, and Jenny simply could not seem to get control of the situation. It was a failing in herself she was ashamed to see manifested in such a circumstance; Mother had always put so much faith in her.
A letter had been sent to Father, off on business somewhere in Scotland, and his response had come earlier that day. In it, he promised to come back as soon as his affairs were finished and to find suitable places for all the children. Although she could not say so aloud, Jenny thought this answer utterly despicable and unbecoming to a gentleman. Most irksome to her was that he had specifically left the children to the housekeeper's care - and not a word about Jenny! To be lumped in with the younger ones in such a way was most insulting. She did not need looking after, and even if her attempts at creating order in the bereaved household had not been successful, she could not help but think she could improve with time. And it appeared that Father intended to give her time, as he indicated they should not expect him for a matter of months yet.
The girls were all asleep in their bedroom - Mary still with red eyes from crying. Jenny tucked the blankets tightly around her little body, and slipped the book out of Emma's hands. As she closed the door behind her, a series of new thoughts occurred to her. Am I really needed here? If Father is only going to separate us, is there any point in my staying? He will send the little ones to family members, but where will he send me? she wondered, as she approached the boys' room. Probably to some smelly old man I've never met before. Jenny had heard those sort of stories before, and knew all about the wicked things men did once their wives were dead.
The boys, too, were asleep, except for Jonathan, who stirred slightly as she arranged his blankets. Jenny kissed him softly on the forehead before turning to leave. A model of a warship caught her eye as she approached the door, and she paused to regard it. Could I do better for myself?
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Jenny arrived in Portsmouth two days later, in excellent health and giddy spirits. It had taken some doing to get there, as she was not entirely sure where Portsmouth was. But a kindly and somewhat drunk coachman had agreed to take her, provided she sit next to him on the box. I daresay he fancied me, she thought with a smile.
The city she now found herself in was vastly different from the quiet country home she had known her whole life. The smell was overwhelming, and Jenny had had a bad moment coming into town when she thought she would faint from it. But eventually, that feeling had passed and now the brilliant sights of the city occupied her. She was eager to see the ocean and the sort of ships Philip's model was based on, and so she made her way through the bustling crowd toward the smell of saltwater and the sound of seagulls.
The sight of the harbor was more wonderful than Jenny had thought possible. There had been moments of doubt before she left home, whether the trip was too foolish or improper to attempt. Now, with the sea breeze running through her hair, Jenny felt proud that she had taken control of her fate. Father did not intend to look after her, none of the children could, and here - here she could look after herself, without worrying about what others thought or whether she was a burden to them. A bystander would not have been able to tell whether the tears that rose in Jenny's beautiful brown eyes were due to the salty air or a grateful heart.
She lingered there by the sea for a few moments longer, and then went in search of a place to stay the night.