So... I got tetchy the other day and started wondering what would have happened if certain things had been slightly different in the Blakeverse. Aka, Genevieve wasn't murdered for dramatic effect, etc., and my brain started spewing crapfic. And now you have to live with it, too.

Starlight and Dewdrops
by ScintillatingTart

I:

He knew it was going to happen and couldn't have stopped it even if he had tried. "Jeanie, no!" Lucien Blake shouted as she leaned precariously closer to the nest of kittens, her feet shifting beneath her slightly. She lost her footing and slid down the tiled roof, unable to catch anything but the edge of the gutter as she fell over.

"Help me!" the girl cried, sobbing.

"Lucien, do something!" Desiree screamed in panic, her eyes wide with fear. His little sister was annoying, and her farmgirl friend came over to play and help Maman with the dusting and other light chores that Mrs. Williams gave out, but what could he do? He was only thirteen, and they were nine. They weren't supposed to be on the roof of the carriage house in the first place. His father was going to kill them when he found out.

"I can't hold on –"

Jeanie lost her grip and Desiree screamed again as she hit the ground with a sickening thud. Lucien rushed over and checked Jeanie for a pulse, and to see if she was breathing, and looked at his sister, who was sobbing hysterically. "Desiree, go inside and get dad," he ordered. "Now!"

When Desiree was gone, he turned back to Jeanie, who was trembling in pain and staring up at him in fear, whimpering almost inaudibly. Her eyes were huge and greyish-green in her pale face, and she looked smaller than her normal, indomitable self.

"It's going to be all right, Jeanie," Lucien assured her softly. "Desi's gone to get dad. You're going to be just fine." He didn't dare touch her more than he already had, but she looked so terrified, and he wanted to do something to reassure her… so he very gently rested his hand on her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling quicker. "It's okay, Jeanie."

"Lucien," his father barked, running into the yard with his medical bag, "how far did she fall?"

"From the gutter," Lucien said. "She landed on her back and shoulder."

"Lucien, my boy," his father said sternly, "I need you to go inside and call for an ambulance. Then I need you and Desiree to go up to your rooms and stay there until after the ambulance leaves. Do you understand?"

"But I can help –"

"Lucien, you've helped enough. It's time to let the adults take over. You and your Maman will need to help calm Desiree down," his father said. "And I will be with Jeanie at the hospital. Please do as I say."

Lucien paused, looked down at Jeanie's scared face, and felt her hand slip into his for just a moment, squeezing it before she let go. "Yes, sir," he said, getting up and retreating.

It took a lot to get Desiree to settle down, and even then, she was anxious for news of Jeanie. And it was well past nightfall when their father got back from the hospital. "Dad?" Lucien said.

"Thomas?" Genevieve inquired gently.

"She's going to be all right," Thomas said, "no thanks to whoever thought it was a good idea to go up on the roof."

"She went to get the kittens down," Desiree said. "I was too much of a chook to do it, and Lucien said you'd skin us alive, so Jeanie said she wasn't scared and just did it. And she fell. But she's going to be okay?"

Thomas stared at his daughter in disbelief. "I don't ever want to hear of any of you even contemplating such a dangerous stunt again," he snapped. "Do you understand me? Jeanie Randall almost died today."

"Daddy, I didn't –"

"Thomas, she didn't mean anything by it," Genevieve said softly. "They're only children."

"Lucien is old enough to know better," Thomas said firmly. "Aren't you, boy?"

Lucien didn't meet his father's piercing gaze, because he felt a crushing weight of expectations crashing into him like the ground rushing up to meet Jeanie with that sickening noise that made his guts clench with impotent fury.

Desiree giggled and pulled Jean closer as they walked home from school. "Matthew Lawson asked me to dance with him at Maman's party," she said giddily. "You've got to come, Jeanie –"

"Oh, I couldn't," Jean said quickly. "I don't have any dresses nice enough. And I need to study."

"Lucien will be home from Melbourne for the weekend," Desiree said with a knowing smirk.

"That isn't funny," Jean scolded. "You know I'm stepping out with Christopher Beazley and your brother is with Monica Parker."

"She is awful – simply dreadful," Desiree sighed. "He should fall in love with you, Jeanie and everything would be sorted –"

"Don't make fun," Jean snapped.

"I'm not," Desiree giggled. "I wish you were my sister."

"Well, I don't want to marry your stupid brother," Jean said, rolling her eyes. "He doesn't even like me."

"He does – "

"Not really," Jean said quietly. "He puts up with me because I'm your friend, that's all." She smiled sadly. "Now we'd better hurry up so I can go do my chores and get my pay."

"You know the Randall girl, Jean? The one your sister is so fond of?" Monica said primly, sipping on her ice cream soda. "She's marrying Christopher Beazley. I hear she's in the family way – which shouldn't surprise anyone, since she's so…"

"Stop it," Lucien snapped, glaring at her. "You have no right to talk about Jeanie like that."

Monica arched a perfect brow and smirked. "Did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?" she cooed.

He was seething then; once he had been taken in by Monica's prettiness and her connections and the way she could effortlessly wind him up, but now, he was done. She wasn't the one and he was done trying to force her to fit into his life. "You can walk home by yourself," Lucien said, "and I never want to see you again."

The smile vanished from her lips in an instant. "Wait – you can't be serious! We were going to get married – you were going to get me out of this town," Monica cried in indignation.

"Good luck with that," Lucien muttered, doffing his cap and heading out into the afternoon. He didn't know where he was going, but he didn't expect to run into Jean Randall near the green grocer's. She had a basket laden with bread and vegetables and he nearly kicked himself when he realized it was his mother's shopping she was doing. "Jeanie, let me carry that," he said.

Jean forced a smile. "I see you've heard the goss."

"I don't believe a word of it," he said. "What else has Maman asked you to get?"

"I was just heading back – I've finished the shopping," Jean commented wryly.

"I think it's nice that Maman and dad keep you on for odd jobs," Lucien said as they walked, him carrying the basket, she looking a little out of sorts. "It feels very…"

"It's the only way I ever have pocket money," Jean said softly. "The farm is failing. Dad's going to have to sell up and move. I don't know what's going to happen then, where we're going to go." She swallowed hard and mumbled, "It's true, you know. The goss. About Christopher and me getting married. We've got a date in two weeks."

"Because you're… expecting?"

She blushed and huffed. "Don't get high and mighty with me, Lucien Blake," Jean protested quietly.

"I'm not."

Her lips trembled a little, and she said, "Yes. I'm in the family way."

He stopped in the street and stared at her for a long moment, then said, "You're marrying him because he got you pregnant?"

"No – I love him," Jean said sharply. "I have done for a long time, you know."

"Jeanie…" He threw up his free hand in defeat. "For the love of pity, don't throw your life away because he said some pretty things and made you feel good for a few minutes."

"What, pray tell, am I supposed to do?" she asked him angrily.

"Don't marry him."

"I'm going to start showing soon, and then what?" she challenged.

He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Marry me," Lucien said. "Come with me to Edinburgh. You and the baby will want for nothing – nothing at all, Jeanie. And you'll be safe and happy and –"

"I love him, stupid," she whispered. "That's why I'm in this mess in the first place. And I will not marry you."

"Jean –"

"No, you have this misguided notion that you can just swoop in and make things better," she protested softly. "I'm not the little girl you watched fall off the roof anymore, Lucien."

She hadn't been a little girl in quite some time, he was loath to say, and he had been half in love with her since she was old enough to realize what courting meant. Not that he would ever have admitted to anyone that he fancied his little sister's best friend over his actual girlfriend – or that when he took his pleasure in hand, it was Jean he fantasized about and not Monica. And it hurt now to be rejected so cheaply and honestly by her.

"No, you aren't," he agreed.

"I'm marrying Christopher and we're going to be happy," she said softly, almost convincingly. "And you'll marry Monica and be incandescent with joy."

She linked her arm in his and they began to walk again, this time a bit more quickly. "Jean, I…"

"Lucien, don't push your luck," she shot back.

"I'm not going to marry Monica. Not now. Not ever."

"Whyever not?" she inquired gently.

"Because she said something terrible about someone I care for very much, and I didn't realize that she was so… casually cruel."

Jean sighed and murmured, "If that's all you're tossing her over for –"

"Jeanie, I mean it. It was like watching a snake's fangs pop out."

She laughed and said, "Monica is more like a dingo."

This time, it was his turn to laugh. "Are you sure you don't want to marry me?" he teased. "We'd make an excellent team, we two."

"I'm quite sure," Jean said softly. "But some day, you'll find a girl you'll be proud to bring home to your maman, and our children will grow up to be friends, I hope." She patted his arm soothingly.

He hid his dismay well, or he liked to think he did; rather, he slunk off to Scotland with his tail firmly tucked between his legs and his heart ripped to shreds.

TBC...