Poor George Darling, he gets no respect. It always seems he's made the witless fool and wimp. Being that I always love the underdog, I write my fan fiction just for him. Forget what you read in the book Peter Pan about how he and Mary met and married and the events leading up to and well after, forget the whole thing because this is the real story right here including all the juicy details and gossip. Each chapter is rated ranging from PG to NC-17 and I'll try my best to list a warning at the top of chapters containing offensive topics and sexual content. There is plenty of Captain Hook! But you will have to wait some chapters to see him. Promise it will be worth it. Mr. Isaacs played Mr. Darling, and, as always, he is the inspiration for this character. I dedicate this story to every single woman in the world that wore white on her wedding day just because it was tradition, and you know what I mean.
My little added afterthought, as I finished my later chapters I became aware that Mr. James Barrie, the original author, had written a story explaining how Peter Pan came to be, entitled "The Little White Bird". I have read the book, "Peter Pan", although I have not read any other books written by J.M. Barrie, such as "The Little White Bird." Therefore if my fantasies in print are not up to snuff, read a few lines up where it says forget what you've read of the original story now stories. I don't own any of these characters nor do I make money off of my writing.
One more thing, this became my obsession when writing, so most episodes are long and the story itself spans over 70 chapters. But it does truly take you from start to finish, and all questions you ever wanted to know but were afraid to ask will be answered.
Much thanks and endless appreciation to CheetahLee who has graciously accepted the position of BETA reader and is doing an amazing job – Thank you for helping me through the rough spots and using a better mind to the times and also a much better thesaurus!
Chapter 1 – rated G
My Darling Love
Chapter 1 – Hidden in White
"A woman has two smiles that an angel might envy, the smile that accepts a lover before words are uttered, and the smile that lights on the first born babe, and assures it of a mother's love. -Thomas Chandler Haliburton
She stood at the back of the church. She wore a dress of antique lace, her mother's, white as freshly fallen snow, the first of winter. The train ran down the length and fanned out feet behind her, her veil followed. The beadwork was exquisite; pearls encircled the neck and bodice. It was simple a-line, flattering to her once slim figure. She had dreamed all of her life of wearing this, as there had never been a more beautiful dress to be married in.
She carried in her hands pink roses, a bouquet of full blooms held out before her, just like her mother's. Her bridesmaids wore dresses in a hue of fairest periwinkle, her Aunt Millicent's choice. They lined down the front altar, standing as wooden soldiers, awaiting her arrival. To her right, was her father, who, on a day such as this, should have been proud-- more proud, in fact, than he had ever been in his entire life. For she was by far the loveliest bride anyone had ever seen. Instead he held an expression of a proper gentleman about to vomit. Her mother was no better suited in face and frowned to her as the wedding march began.
It should be the have been the happiest day, and try as they might, not one could find in their heart a reason for it to be that happiest day, aside from the bride and groom. Her mother nodded to her father to step forward down the aisle, but he only held a nasty glare directed towards the groom. The groom's parents' disposition was no better, staring straight ahead into nothingness as if waiting to be executed by firing squad. The bridesmaids and groomsmen waited in silent prayer that this was a dream and soon they would wake up and joke about it over morning tea.
But is was not, and in the foyer of the church, with her father grasping her arm tightly, Mary looked forward and saw her darling love waiting for her. She nudged her father onward and he directed her down the aisle marching along quickly. She felt that, had he been able to push her -- or better yet pick her up and throw her -- to the priest, he bloody well would have.
As they arrived at the altar, at a time when every father turns to his daughter and expresses sentiments of love and pride, her father sneered, murmuring, "I think it's a sin in the eyes of God that you are wearing your mother's white gown on your wedding day."
It did not start out that way.
Far from it, for Mary Elizabeth Baker was the prettiest and most proper of all young ladies. Her father was a baker, just as his last name denoted, and she was the only daughter and only child of a proud family of modest wealth. She attended the correct schools and was educated in etiquette, a subject deemed far more important than reading and arithmetic by her Aunt Millicent. "When she is married to a rich gentleman he will not want her to be too smart. More so, he will desire a proper young lady who knows the correct fork to use at dinner." Her mother felt she should go to University, something unheard of at the time, but Aunt Millicent, with the undying support of her brother, Mary's father, resolutely and absolutely forbade such nonsense. "Excellent choice, dearest brother. Some would already consider her a spinster if she is not engaged by the time she graduates grammar school."
And so, she was raised a proper young lady of moderate means, with aspirations of marrying a wealthy lawyer or politician or banker, and being a lady of the house, more of a decoration than a partner. Her Aunt Millicent insisted she keep her hair long, curled and properly displayed above her head at all times. She was to dress for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and at all other times, wear the accepted attire for whatever the situation required. Her father directed her to always follow Aunt Millicent's rules. She did not mind, because Aunt Millicent bought her the finest things, dresses and toys, music boxes and books -- anything her heart desired, and so, her affections for her domineering and controlling Aunt in childhood came easy.
Joseph and Millicent came from a poor family. Had he not learned the trade of baker working for his parents' landlord to pay the rent, he would have been destitute. Aunt Millicent was wiser on how to get ahead in the world. In school, she made friends with the richest girls and lied about her background. For fancy parties, she would borrow a dress from another not invited and make a show of having all the money in the world. She snagged a man, a very rich man, by allowing him to take her to bed before they were even engaged. Once with child, he was forced to marry her and accept her poor family and her lies. He was the one who loaned Mary's father, Joseph Baker, the money to begin his own business. As repayment for his generosity, Aunt Millicent sent him to an early grave and kept his wealth well invested. Aunt Millicent's only child died of the measles when only a baby, therefore with no one else to love, she doted on and spoiled Mary.
Aunt Millicent had the largest bedroom of her mansion converted into a grand bedchamber for her only niece and filled it with all the luxuries money could buy. As a child, Mary had toys beyond her wildest dreams, games and books (but not too many books). Aunt Millicent gave her an old tea set "to practice with," and many of her old out-of-date gowns "to get a feel of the finer things money can buy." At Mary's young age, it had all the makings of a fairy tale, having tea with a queen, dressed in her posh dress of green velvet, and what it fun it was to play dress up! "Mary Elizabeth will be staying with me this weekend," became a constant in the Baker home, and Mary had not minded, for in Millicent's home, she was a princess. She would beg and plead with her parents to go, though she hardly had to ask, for if Aunt Millicent said so, then it was so.
Unfortunately, the begging and pleading, not to mention the desire to spend weekends with Aunt Millicent, only lasted until she was twelve, then everything gradually changed. The toys and old worn out gowns of the past were replaced by real, fancy grown-up dresses tailored just for Mary with all the correct matching accessories from head to toe. There was to be no more running about or pretending anything for Mary. There was to be no running about, period. "Young ladies of polite society never run anywhere." Aunt Millicent always had rules about how she should behave, only now they were stricter and the punishment, when rules were not observed, was more severe. "How many times do I have to tell you, you are no longer allowed to see that Penny girl? Her family is indigent and ill educated. No proper and decent young man will want to court a young lady that is seen on the street with that girl. If you continue to be strong-minded about such things, I will take back the broche and necklace with matching earrings I purchased especially for you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Such pronouncements as that became a daily struggle for Mary.
"Sit up straight. Where is your handkerchief? Well, put it away, if a proper young man sees you have one, he will never offer you his!" And that was only as Mary sat down to breakfast. "Walk to school," Aunt Millicent commanded.
"I do walk to school Aunt Millicent," Mary replied.
"Don't get sassy with me young lady, you do not 'walk', you saunter along daydreaming, looking all around smiling at everyone you pass. Keep your eyes on the direction you are going and do not speak to strangers!" Aunt Millicent followed Mary to school and was there when the final bell rang dismissing others to their fun and games, when school was finished. At dinner it became worse, "Incorrect fork, Mary Elizabeth...Do not leave your spoon on the table, place it quietly on the saucer..."
Aunt Millicent made her take piano lessons, and made her sit in the parlor doing nothing except mimicking a statue collecting dust. "When you are married and your husband reads the paper, you will have to sit and be bored so prepare yourself now."
In certain regards Mary was daring, for, even though she was forbidden to see her friend Penny, she still did so. Penny's mother taught Mary to crochet. "Only those born of poor means doing that sort of handiwork. If you want to learn a useful skill to pass the hours of the evening, I will teach you cross stitching and embroidery," Aunt Millicent declared seeing Mary had a new hobby she was unaware of, and made Mary learn that as well.
As Mary grew into young adulthood, her age now only seventeen, she was finally able to be courted by her peers. Her Aunt Millicent offered this to Mary, as if on a silver platter, only to slap her hand away when she reached for it. "You seem too eager to see young men, Mary Elizabeth," Aunt Millicent spoke looking at her niece and then to her brother. "Perhaps she should wait, Joseph. A girl to willing to be courted I find is far too willing to do other things as well."
It was to be the only time her mother spoke up in her daughter's defense, telling her husband, in the privacy of their bed, long after his sister had left, "Let Mary Elizabeth court with a young man, it is time, Joseph." He allowed it, although it was not to be easy for Mary.
"No, not him, his family is not respected, even though they have money. No, not him either, he's not attractive enough. No, he's all wrong for you, too much of a sissy. No, I've never heard anything of his family or their money, I want to see their assets before I allow him to come over and meet me." Everyday, after school, Mary would ask her Aunt Millicent and everyday her Aunt would begin her sentence with the same answer, "No."
When Mary could stand it no more, she stopped asking. "I simply cannot believe no one has asked her to the Spring Ball, it's the social event of the year. I must tell you, Joe, if she is not seen on the arm of a formidable young gentleman soon, I fear she will not be seen at all. Most of the good ones are already taken and have escorts." Mary listened through the cracked door of her bedroom. She wanted to scream at her aunt of the young men she spoken of and had asked permission to see her, and her, Aunt Millicent, wise and all knowing told them "No," for various reasons only known to herself. Her parents watched Aunt Millicent give explanation of how their only child was most likely to end up a spinster, "Oh she will be stuck in this house her whole life, and people will say things about her Joseph, they will call her the crazy spinster daughter of the Baker's!" Mary, hearing this, went to bed.
"Please God, send me a man that doesn't drink or gamble, a young man that thinks I'm pretty and will love me truly all the days of our lives. Send me a man that will give me children, and love them more than all the stars in the sky. Send me someone that I can love, and that wants to be loved just as much as I do. I don't care if he's rich, noble, or comes from a well-to-do family, just make him good and decent. I don't want someone that would never hit me when he's mad or argues over unimportant things such as the weather. Make him patient and smart, and I promise to treasure him forever because I know You made him and sent him just for me." Mary prayed as she knelt at her bedside. She already had an image of the man she wanted to marry in her head, for in a dream she had seen him. What she did not see, because her back was turned from the window, was what came in the night sky. God listened to her prayer and said, "Done," sending a shooting star down just for her.
The next morning, as her father busied himself at baking bread and helping customers make their daily purchases, a young man entered the shop with a list he kept checking and checking again while he stood in line. He was tall, but would not be considered commanding, he wore spectacles to correct his vision and did not smile, holding an odd expression of deep concern. He examined his list for the hundredth time since entering when Mr. Baker asked what he needed. "Order for the Darling Family please, sir," he responded in a mild tone, somewhat unsure of himself.
"Ah yes, are you Fred's son?" Mr. Baker queried, picking their order up from the bin where the daily orders were kept.
"Yes, Frederick Darling the Fourth's son, fourth son, sir," he replied politely, taking the bag filled with bread and tea crumpets, handing Mr. Baker back his payment, counted to the penny.
"I've known your father since we were small boys. Still working for the old Perkins's Savings and Loan?" Mr. Baker already knew the answer, the Darlings were regular customers, but remembering his sister's horrid prediction that his only daughter would die old, alone and unloved, and knowing the family and their assets, he felt this young man might be perfect for Mary.
"No, father's retired sir."
His answers were brief and very respectful. Mr. Baker liked that. "Let me ask you, son, are you well educated?"
'Such a strange question from a baker so early in the morning,' George thought with raised brow, but he replied nonetheless, "Yes sir."
"And what, may I ask, do you do for your living?" Mr. Baker leaned on the counter ignoring all the other customers impatiently waiting for their orders.
"I work in a bank, sir."
Mr. Baker ran over all the acceptable professions his sister had given, lawyer, doctor, politician, business proprietor and banker. 'Perfect a banker,' Mr. Baker thought, and he decided to invite the young man and his mother for afternoon tea. "Mrs. Baker has missed your mother so, why not bring her by and enjoy the lovely spring weather this afternoon? My daughter Mary will be home, it would nice for you two to meet." Mr. Baker was quite pleased with his idea and even more pleased when George smiled and accepted.
"Well, of course I will have to ask my mother, but I think she would be honored with the company on this glorious day, sir."
When his morning rush finished, Joseph turned the store over to his apprentice and went home to tell his happy news to his wife, sister and daughter.
Aunt Millicent was not pleased at all. "I cannot believe you would ask a young man that I have not met over for afternoon tea. You are practically giving Mary away, and if I know anything about young men, and I do, he will think he has been invited to a brothel. He will waltz in here and expect Mary Elizabeth will service him right here in the middle of your parlor! I will not even be able to join them to supervise because I have another appointment and it is too late to cancel." Feeling all her hard work grooming Mary into a wealthy merchant's wife was being thrown out the window, "If you feel you can marry her off better than I..." Millicent stormed from the house with, "I will expect a wedding invitation in no more than three months!"
Mary's father, Mr. Baker, was too impressed with his arrangement to be disheartened by his sister and screamed after her, "It will be two months Millicent!" He turned to see his wife and only daughter giving a strange expression, stunned to hear Millicent's words.
"What does 'service him' mean mother? And would it be improper for me to do that in the parlor?"
Deflated, Mr. Baker lowered his head and said, "You don't have to marry the first man that comes calling, Mary Elizabeth. And Millicent is the one that is not only improper but impolite to speak of the word 'service' in reference to a young lady such as yourself."
Mary Elizabeth would not service George in the parlor that afternoon, but she would marry him, because he was the man she had prayed for.
Aunt Millicent told Mary never to answer the door when a young man calls, "Keep him waiting for your entrance, stand at the top of the stairs out of sight for at least ten minutes. It builds anticipation and makes him think you took extra time to look beautiful just for him." Feeling this would be the perfect way to slap her Aunt Millicent's cheek, Mary, headstrong and eager to have a young man call on her, answered the bell when George rang it. She welcomed them into her parents' home with a polite and gracious smile into the parlor where her mother sat and waited.
George Darling and his mother came to tea that afternoon. They were punctual and polite. Truth be told, Mrs. Darling and Mrs. Baker disliked one another intensely. No one knew why, but it was quite obvious that afternoon when no one said a single word. Mrs. Baker and Mrs. Darling sat alongside of one another in the formal parlor, George to his mother's right and Mary to her mother's left.
George had asked his mother to go to the Baker's for tea the moment he walked in the door of their home, running to where she was in the kitchen and almost jumping for joy, "Please mother, I am told Mr. Baker's daughter is very lovely."
Mrs. Darling was not easily impressed by beauty and retorted, "If she is as lovely as her mother you will not be the least bit interested."
With that in mind already, George sat holding his teacup looking forward at a painting that hung above the piano, as did his mother. Mrs. Baker kept her eyes on the clock, while Mary cast her gaze at George. She wondered in her mind what their children would be like. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life, evident even though he wore spectacles. His posture was correct and he dressed like a banker, even for afternoon tea. They both had the same color hair, dark brown and seemed the same height. His eyes never met hers, and as time dragged on and the painting was memorized he began to look about at anything in the room other than Mary Elizabeth.
"Well, look at the time, 2 o'clock already. I think we should be going. How lovely it was of your husband to invite us over," Mrs. Darling spoke as she rose, signaling to her fourth son to do the same. Where an "I hope we can do this again sometime" should have been inserted, there was only silence as they gathered their coats and hats and made for the door.
Mary also rose, expecting something, anything, to hear his voice, she knew the moment she heard his voice she could be assured that he was the answer to her prayers. Her mother kicked her as Mary attempted to move forward to try to engage him a last minute conversation about the weather. George did not see that, nor did he see the longing in her eyes to be noticed, so he said nothing.
Some say the Lord works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform, and never a truer word was spoken on that day. For at 2:05, when George and his mother were leaving, in stormed Aunt Millicent, out of breath having run all the way from her lawyer's office. "Ah, good. I see I have not missed the company." Aunt Millicent was highly insulted that the Darlings were leaving so early and insisted they come back inside and drink more tea. "The proper hour for tea is one to three, with dinner following promptly at half past six. To leave my brother's wife and his lovely daughter alone for the last hour is rude and unacceptable."
George and his mother did not wish to offend her, and so Aunt Millicent broke the tension and the silence by engaging a woman she felt her equal in conversation, Mrs. Darling. They chatted well past when afternoon tea was properly be finished and into the supper hour. "I've been to Ireland only in the summer months although I have heard it is magnificent in the winter as well."
As George and his mother departed, a chaos of coats, hats and questions filled the foyer of the Baker's home. The Darlings could not stay for dinner even when Millicent insisted, Mrs. Darling giving her reason of wanting to be home for her other three sons, also bachelors living at home, "You know how sons hold on to the apron strings..."
Aunt Millicent inquired when George would call on Mary again following him on his heels out onto the stoop. "I had not asked yet, madam," he responded to a blissful smile lifting the cheeks of Mary.
"You will call on her again tomorrow, after seven o'clock," Millicent commanded and he agreed, tipping his hat to the ladies of the house. With the door closed and the Darlings heading home, Aunt Millicent spun around on her heel and ranted, "Well, you are just lucky I arrived in time to save the day. Do you know the gossip that would have been spread had he not called again?"
Now, Aunt Millicent in no way thought George Darling was the one for Mary, finding him stiff and humorless, not to mention his inappropriate attire. "Who dresses like a banker for afternoon tea?" She continued to criticize his every action at dinner, from the way he drank his tea to the way he fastened the buttons on his coat, "did you notice his hairline Mary, a young man and already it is receding. No, he will be bald by the time he is forty, you mark my words." George was simply not good enough for Mary, and Millicent felt it was her duty to let everyone within earshot know. "And what nerve to call himself a banker, the last time I was at the bank he was no more than a clerk. Remember this, Mary Elizabeth, dressing like a banker does not make you a banker, just as dressing like a proper young lady of good breeding does not make you one..."
As she went on about his choice of spectacles and the color of his tie, Mary dreamed about the babies they would have together. She already named them and picked the months they would be born in. She would, of course, be married in her mother's dress in spring, and they first child would be birthed on Christmas morning.
George Darling was the luckiest man in all of London, for on that day, he had won the heart of one of the most sought-after young ladies in polite society, a young lady whom most young men only dreamt of meeting, let alone of marrying, without ever saying a word to her.
George called, as instructed, the day after afternoon tea and the day after that also. Both times he sat on an armchair and Mary on the other, silent as fog, with Aunt Millicent in the middle, expounding to them both what those of good breeding were to expect and accept in life, not letting one or the other get a word in edgewise. When nine o'clock rolled around on the second night, George courteously excused himself for the evening, asking Mr. Baker, who waited in the kitchen, for a word on the side. After shaking George's hand on his way out, Mr. Baker and Aunt Millicent whispered back and forth in the hall for a moment before joining Mary where she still sat, lost in her daydream about how George, whom she was more than certain, would propose. "My poorest dear, he has broken your heart. It is his loss, and he will suffer the fate of dying a bachelor like all of his brothers..."
Mary looked up to see tears in her Aunt Millicent's eyes, although she did not understand why. Mary rose to her feet with a baffled expression and questioned. "He said he wouldn't be calling again? I was sure he was to propose this very night, if not first thing tomorrow morning."
Mr. Baker told his only daughter, "No, Mary Elizabeth, he only wanted to tell me he would not be calling again," shaking his head in disbelief.
"Why? Did he not like my dress? Or my hair? Or my smile?" Mary asked, touching each part of her as she spoke.
"Your father did not ask dearest, it would have been rude. Your dress is fine dear, and so is your hair, maybe he was intimidated by your perfect smile dear, you do wear it well. But seeing as how he did not feel you worthy of a simple compliment for your efforts, he is undeserving of your company," Aunt Millicent answered before Mr. Baker could utter even a syllable.
"Someone should have asked," Mary demanded, as she fell back into her chair.
"Oh dearest, there are other gentlemen far more attractive and from better stock. Think of his slight as a learning experience," Aunt Millicent comforted Mary as she directed her to bed for her beauty sleep.
Alone in her room, Mary sat at her vanity brushing her lengthy hair the required one hundred strokes. All her dreams of a home filled with perfect love and babies were taken from her. Her face always held the faintest smile, as if just being alive made her happy, but tonight there was no smile, only sadness. She mourned for the children she had already named and the wedding in the spring with the special Christmas gift due in the winter.
On his way home to his mother, Josephine Darling (or the General, as she was called by all who knew her), George Darling felt the same sorrow. For he too had made babies and planned their marriage in his mind with the young lady he and everyone else deemed the fairest of them all.