Welcome, welcome, and welcome to this story! Yes written quite a while after the first PoC film but, I only got the idea for this story about a month ago when my flatmates and I binge-watched the first three films. So, enjoy!
Chapter 1 – A Dark Night
London, England, 1703, under the rule of Queen Anne
Dauphine pressed the crying child closer to her chest. She silently pleaded for her daughter to quieten, but she could not blame the poor child. Rain and hail pounded down from the heavens above, and the swaddling cloth in which she was bundled was sopping wet. She prayed that her boy is safe in his bed, Mrs Saunders promised she would watch him close lest he stirs in the night and be fearful, the child was not but one year, and already frightfully protective of his mother and sister, even if he could not yet express it in words.
Dauphine passed the tavern quickly, envious of the light and heat that escaped through its doors. She could hear the men from the docks laughing loudly from within, no doubt gambling and drinking away their days' wage, the shillings needed to feed their children. Her own husband was never the sort of man, though his work took him far from home for months at a time, he never failed to send his family a weekly sum. But that night, that night some madness must have befallen him, and now Dauphine knew that there was only one thing she could do to protect her new-born daughter.
After hours of walking against the cold and the rain, Dauphine beheld the orphanage, the tall dark building looming in the distance. The babe cried harder, cold and starving, barely able to open her eyes. "Hush, now loves, hush, we're nearly there", Dauphine tried in vain to comfort her child.
The woman clambered up the stone steps and repositioned the child so that she held her in one hand, and with the other, she banged on the door. When there was no answer, she hammered down as loud as she could with a clenched fist, desperate for someone, anyone to hear.
It was fifteen minutes before she saw the flicker of candle light in one of the large windows, and it was five minutes still until the door gave with a great heave, and a frowning elderly vicar stood before her in his night attire. "What in hell's fury is the meaning of all this?" he bellowed, and Dauphine felt herself shrink beneath his tall frame.
"Please, please sir", she begged, "A' have nowhere else to go, me daughter sir, am fearing that ma husband is going to steal our daughter".
The vicar sneered, "Raving lunatic of a woman, quit this place at once, ye be not the first fallen woman to prostrate themselves at our doorstep, begone I say!"
Dauphine gaped at him incredulously, "A am not a fallen woman sir!" she protested her innocence, "A may not wear a gold band on my finger but a' am a married woman, a married woman in fear of her child's life!"
The vicar squinted his dark eyes, and as he did, the wind pushed the woman's cloak further away from her chest, and he saw the small wooden crucifix bearing the visage of Our Lord hung on her person. "Catholic!" he roared, "Not only do you, fallen woman seek to burden us with another child, but you are a Catholic!" he stormed forward, "Begone at once lest I call the magistrate!" With that Dauphine stumbled back, and the heavy door was closed in her face. The child began to cry louder, as tears cascaded down the face of the woman herself. Trembling, she made her way back through the streets, walking aimlessly on the cobblestone road. Too frightened to return to her lodgings, fearing her husband's early return home. "Oh God, Oh God help me!" she wailed pitifully.
"Get out of the way!" Dauphine gasped as she heard a man roar through the wind and the thundering clatter of horses' hooves. She turned quickly to see a carriage coming swiftly in her direction, and she was too petrified to move. The driver pulled tightly on his reigns, stopping the horses into a sharp halt, the carriage lurching forward.
Dauphine stumbled backwards in shock, falling to the ground. The furious driver leapt from his seat, storming towards the cowering woman. "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" he seethed, he cracked his whip, and the woman desperately attempted to shield her child, "Have you any idea whose carriage this is? I'll have your guts for garters you stupid cow", he cracked the whip a second time.
"Mercy sir, mercy!" Dauphine screamed.
"What is the meaning of all this?" There was a third voice, and the carriage driver immediately flocked to its source, "It's nothin sir, just some mad woman who jumped in front of the carriage", he answered quickly.
"I didn't sir!" Dauphine protested loudly.
"Shut it you!" the carriage driver snapped, flashing his whip in his hand.
"Mr Digby that is quite enough, thank you", The man warned him politely. He was older, and Dauphine observed that he was dressed in the very fine clothing of court, and at once, her face drained of colour. "Please sir, A' was just walking, a' didn't see your carriage, oh mercy sir! I beg you! Don't have me thrown in the stocks!"
"Please Madam, there's no need for that", the man attempted to soothe her, and offered her his gloved hand. Dauphine gaped at it, unsure of what to do, cautiously, she took it, and the man helped her to her feet, it was only then, that the man saw the child she carried.
"It is very late to be carrying a child and walking through the streets", he commented, "Are you in some sort of trouble?"
The events of the evening finally took their toll on the poor woman, who, before she could answer him, started to weep bitterly.
"Weatherby, Weatherby what is going on?" A female voice joined them, and the most graceful woman Dauphine had ever beheld emerged from the carriage. "Oh, you poor thing!" she gasped, upon seeing the drenched Dauphine.
"Caroline please, I insist you return to the carriage whilst I deal with this matter", her husband pleaded, but the strong-headed Caroline ignored his wishes, and walked forwards to join them. "Dear girl what has you in such a way?" she asked her gently.
"Oh ma'am, a' cannot bother you with my troubles, please forget me, go on your journey", Dauphine pleaded, fully aware of her own lowly ranking of class.
"Nonsense!" Caroline scoffed, "I implore you to tell my husband and I, perhaps we can be of assistance", she smiled at her husband, who in turn looked at his wife as though she had lost her good senses.
"Ma'am, am fearing for my daughter, ma husband threatens to take her away in this morning to come, A can only guess what he means … ma'am she is such a funny little thing, 'ardly ever fusses and not but three days old, I came out to implore the charity of the Church to take 'er for 'er safety, but they will not have her", she sniffled, looking down at her poor girl, "Am too frightened to think of what might become of her".
Caroline felt a great depth of sorrow for the woman's plight, and she unconsciously touched her own stomach, and this time glanced anxiously at her husband, who, was yet to know that she herself was with child. "May, may I see the babe?" Caroline asked, and Dauphine tightened her grip on her daughter in a protective manner. However, on seeing the look in the Lady's eyes, she knew she could trust her. She carefully allowed Caroline to take the child in her arms, and at that moment, she ceased to cry.
"You're very good with her ma'am", Dauphine remarked quietly, although Caroline did not hear her, her full attention was now fixed on the little girl that she held in her arms, the little girl that she had most unwittingly, fallen in love with on first sight. "You had wished to leave her under the protection of the Church?" Caroline asked, her voice almost a whisper, "Permanently?"
Dauphine nodded sadly, "Yes ma'am, a' reckon, it would've been the best chance with her, ma husband would have never found her, and they educate em' in those orphanages, teach em' to read in all".
"What if", Caroline paused, dare she ask? "What if we took her?"
"Caroline you must desist! We cannot simply take this woman's child from her! It's completely preposterous, I mean really –
"Will you love 'er?" Dauphine asked suddenly, tears once more welling in her eyes, "And take care of 'er? Bring 'er up well?"
Caroline nodded, "As if she were our own", she answered firmly.
Dauphine bowed her head, "You'd be given 'er a better life, a' suppose".
"Caroline you can't be serious!" Weatherby exclaimed, "I must protest!"
"This child's life is in danger Weatherby!" Caroline silenced him, "So pre-tell, why not love her as our own?"
Weatherby opened his mouth as though to protest further, but then, he saw the look of willful determination etched upon his beloved wife's face, "Is this what you truly want, my love?"
"Truly", she breathed, gazing down at the child, love swelling in her chest.
"Very well then", he sighed.
Dauphine shook her head, desperate to will her tears away in fear they would cause the couple to reconsider. "There's one thing, ma'am, if it pleases you", Dauphine asked bravely.
"Yes dear?" Caroline indulged her.
"Will, will you call 'er Scarlett? A' know it's not a fancy name, but its 'ers".
Caroline's smile simply widened, "Of course".
Dauphine looked at her child, knowing it would be for the last time, "If, if you ever choose to tell 'er, tell 'er, that a love 'er, and a' wished it could have been me to look after 'er".
"Yes dear, say, we don't even know your name?" Caroline gasped.
"Is Dauphine ma'am", she replied, "Dauphine Turner".
Caroline nodded, "Mrs Turner, I know you shall want your goodbyes, but it is getting very late and –
"Is okay ma'am", Dauphine interrupted, "It'll be easier, is' way".
"Well", Weatherby coughed, "We are best on our way then", and he ushered his wife, carrying they're supposed child, all into the carriage.
The driver retook his former place, and quickly cracked the dreaded whip, and the horses kicked off, pulling them away into the dark.
Dauphine watched as these rich, courtly people, carried away her daughter, who would forever bear the name Scarlett, but never again Turner.
She would now, and forever be, Scarlett Swann.