A/N: Hello lovlies! I started the story over four years ago, and only just completed it (9 August 2020), so my writing style has changed a lot. Thus, now that it is in fact complete, I am in the process of updating it! As of right now, Chapters 1-5 have been edited, but 6 until around 12 have not been yet, but will be. (anything after that probably will not be, or will at least not see much revision.)I hope you enjoy! – please drop a comment to let me know what you think!

Chapter 1: From the Beginning

"all our days are trances and all our nights are dreams"

20 December, 1890

Snow fell heavily upon the London streets, turning grey as it mingled with the sediment of the pavement, the smog of the rooftops. A few lingering businessmen bustled about, having been too absorbed in the office to notice the blanket burying their city. Unseen were the anxious wives, standing by ovens to keep their husbands' dinners warm as they wondered how much longer he'd be.

Just outside the city, down a winding road disappearing in the dark sat a big old house, the destination of one such husband and his daughter. The four-year-old skipped alongside her father, delighted over an early Christmas present.

"She's so pretty," she'd admired in the shop as her father showed her the porcelain doll he had in mind.

The older man had smiled down at her, proclaiming, "of course she is, my little parrot, she looks just like you." He tapped her dutch-doll nose with his forefinger as emphasis to his last words.

It wasn't just a dainty compliment either. The doll has curly brown hair, clear blue eyes, and a flawless light complexion.

The manse they were headed to slowly came into view, the bright white exterior blending well with the falling flakes. In the summer months this house was surrounded by beautiful foliage, which is where the estate got its name.

However, the Lily-of-the-Valley estate was not quite so beautiful in the cold months when surrounded by dead trees and grey skies. The owner still found beauty in this though, which is why he'd pull his family out to it for Christmas. He was a banker by trade, and quite a wealthy one at that. He was quite proud of his business affair, but preferred to take time for his family around the holidays.

"Come along in before you catch your death!" he called, opening the door as his daughter frolicked about in the snow. He could not conceal a smile as the little girl held fast to her doll, already showing a motherly instinct to protect her child.

Her own mother was the one who greeted them in the foyer, no servants having accompanied them on their family retreat.

"Hello, mum!" she called up to the pretty thin blonde, "look what Daddy bought me!"

The girl's own excitement masked the lack of enthusiasm on her mother's face. It would be unfair to call her uncaring, but it was very clear that she had a favorite child, and it was not the one bouncing at her feet at present.

Despite her company consisting only of her husband and young daughters, she took to fussing with her hair in the nearest mirror.

"Back already, are you James?" she'd asked, her eyes still fixed upon her reflection. Though it was no secret that her husband was the more romantic of the two, she feigned a bit more interest in him when in the eyes of society.

"I didn't want to get caught out in the cold for too long, my sweet Adelaide," he cooed, kissing her with more feeling than she'd typically allow.

"How are you feeling?" The question carried an unspoken weight which the couple had been carrying on their hearts for their whole lives together. She hoped he could not see the fear in her eyes.

"I am going to rest my head," came his quiet response. Uncharacteristically, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed her with all that ardour that had burned in her when they'd first met.

A jovial blonde, not quite a teen, strolled in with a bundle in her arms to welcome her father home. She laughed lightly at the sight of her sister craddingly her doll the same way she was cradling the newest addition to the family.

"My Joy and my sweet little Angel," the father said, kissing both the blonde and his baby upon the brow.

"Your mother is very brave – I'm sure you'll all grow up to be the same," he continued, returning to Adelaide's side.

"As is your father."

She led her girl to bed, taking the fidgeting bundle into her own embrace.

"She's lovely!" the eldest pronounce, looking at the porcelain doll her sister carried. "What will you call her?"

The brunette studied the doll's porcelain face critical as a four-year-old can before answering, "Clara," with a satisfied smile.

"Good night my loves," James called one last time, adding to his eldest, "promise you'll always look out for your sisters."

She nodded her head in an exaggerated manner, her blonde curls bouncing; then with her thumb she crossed her heart and kissed her finger before putting it to her father's lips.

"You four are in my heart, now and for always."

As she continued on to bed, the middle child stuck around, pulling at her father's trousers.

He spoke gently, picking her up and rubbing his nose in her hair. "Au revoir, my little one."

She stumbled to repeat this new phrase before enquiring, "what does Au revoir mean, Daddy?"

"It means," he smiled, "until we meet again," my curious little parrot."

Her interest in words and her tendency to repeat new phrases is what earned her such a pet name. Thus he was not surprised in the slightest when she worked out how to form the foreign phrase in her high soft voice. He also noted silently that she'd do well in her French studies in the future.

James carried her into his bedroom, dropping her on the bed so he could remove his jacket and waistcoat. He'd never admit such, but if he had to choose a favourite child, he knew for certain which he'd say.

He lay down with a sigh, allowing his daughter to nestle closer to him. He knew she loved to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. Perhaps a comfort she'd never let go of from the womb, Adelaide would argue with disdain.

"Sweetheart, look at me."

She did so on command, her mouth puckered and her blue eyes opened wide.

"Mary my love, you mean more than the world to me."

"I love you too, Daddy," she replied smiling, "I always will."

He closed his eyes with a smile on his face, and she returned to nestling upon his chest. Hoping for sweet dreams, she attuned her ears to searching for the sound of his heart.

But she couldn't find it.

She looked up, confused, and touched a small hand to her father's nose. She heard a light thump from the doorway, and looked across the room to see her mother bringing her hand to her lips, her reticule sat at her feet.

"Oh, Mary–"

"Mary Poppins"

"I am awfully sorry, sir – I'd lost myself for a moment. Pray forgive me." The nanny apologized to her new employer in her typical no-nonsense way, hoping to show that she would take this position seriously.

"Of course, no worries," the business man before her replied, "I'd only wanted you to be sure Clara is ready for tea."

With a nod, "I shall see to her straight away, sir," she called as she made her way up the stairs. She felt her practically perfect composure slip for the second time that day – quite a nasty habit, she'd berated herself for.

"For once," she spoke lowly aloud, "this may not be so simple."