Darkness still blanketed the city when the muted rumble of a motorcar from the pavement below roused Marian from her early morning slumber. As awareness gradually dawned, she turned her head to greet her husband and was momentarily surprised when she spied an empty pillow and smooth sheet next to her. Harold had obviously not slept in their bed last night. As events of the evening before rushed back to her, she shut her eyes in a futile attempt to block the unpleasant memories. But, it was no use. Marian could vividly recall the blinding hurt that coursed through her when she had discovered Harold with another woman. She also couldn't forget the look of shock on his face when he realized she had witnessed their exchange.

With a shuddering sigh, Marian leaned back against the headboard and reopened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim lighting. Glancing around the room, she was startled to see a blanketed form huddled on the couch. Marian experienced a fleeting pang of guilt as she recalled her chilly response to her husband's heartfelt plea the night before and the cold resolve in which she had placed his bedclothes on the couch before she retired. Her heart constricted as she realized Harold had indeed spent the evening in their room, but not alongside her. A soft voice in the back of her mind told her it was ridiculous to exile her husband to the couch on their second night as man and wife, but a louder voice – the one still reeling from the shock and pain of seeing him with a woman from his past – was advocating cautious restraint and urging her to seriously consider her next course of action. Marian was still at a loss as to what to do, but for now, she knew she needed time away from Harold. Right now, her wound was still too raw. She knew she loved her husband – of that she had no doubt – but she deemed it best to put some distance between them today, lest she say something she regret.

Rising from the bed, Marian quietly crept to the washroom and engaged in her morning routine. When she emerged several minutes later, she was pleased to note she felt quite refreshed. Taking care as to not wake her husband, she moved about the room, restoring the bed to its proper state and changing from her nightclothes to a warm dress. After spending another moment before the large mirror arranging her hair underneath the small taffeta hat she had chosen, Marian nodded in satisfaction. Considering she planned on doing quite a bit of walking while thinking, practicality was the ruling factor in her wardrobe today; however, Marian had always been one to take careful care with her appearance, so it behooved her to maintain some semblance of fashion. Her woolen motor coat would ensure she'd stay warm on what would most likely prove to be a chilly winter day, and her new hat – with a sharp stab of pain, she remembered it had been a gift from Harold on their four-month anniversary – would lend an air of elegance to her ensemble.

A part of her wished Harold were awake to see the charming picture she presented – the heightened look of love and longing in his eyes whenever she took extra care with her appearance always sent her heart racing. Moving to where her husband lay sleeping, she studied him with quiet sadness.

He had burrowed under the blanket she had left for him, but his lean legs still jutted out from beneath the cover. He had opted to wear his black socks to bed – no doubt in an effort to stave off the evening chill that managed to creep into the room despite the fire in the hearth. One arm had been flung over his eyes, his fingers dangling loosely over his cheek. A few stray locks of hair lay mutinously across his forehead. Marian reached down and gently wound the soft brown curl around her finger. Harold was beautiful. She couldn't deny that. Her eyes closed in muted pain.

If only that woman hadn't appeared, she reflected sadly. Constance had ruined everything. With a heavy sigh, Marian released the lock of hair and reached forward to stroke Harold's cheek, but stopped herself at the last moment. It wouldn't to do rouse him. She wasn't ready to face her husband's repentant pleas just yet. With an uneasy breath, she realized she was unsure as to when she would.

Stepping to the door, she slipped into her warm, winter coat and slid on her gloves. After fastening them at the wrist, she gave Harold's slumbering form one final glance and then left, the door closing softly behind her.

XXX

When Harold Hill woke up, his first disoriented thought was that the bed had become quite uncomfortable. He didn't remember it being so cramped the first evening he and Marian had slept in it. But now, for some reason, his body was stiff and ached. Hoping to loosen the tight muscles in his back, he stretched his arms above his head and flexed his toes. As he did so, he attempted to roll over to the other side of the bed, not yet remembering he had slept on the couch the night before.

A moment later, he found himself unceremoniously sprawled on the floor, one arm situated underneath the small table in the center of the room, while his left leg dangled from the arm of the couch. His face, firmly planted against the rug on the floor, smarted from the hard impact, and he couldn't stop himself from muttering a curse as he gingerly picked himself up from the floor.

As Harold looked around the bedroom in confusion, realization slowly dawned upon him, and he recalled the previous evening. A vague prick of irritation lanced through him when he remembered Marian hadn't even given an opportunity to explain what had happened, but Harold quickly quelled it as the memory of her crestfallen expression and stifled sobs came back to him. He felt his heart wrench in guilt and shame. Ever since Harold had chosen to stay in River City, he was occasionally haunted by the nagging thought that a man such as he didn't deserve the pure and unconditional love of a woman like Marian Paroo. He grimaced as the unsettling reminder danced through his thoughts once again. It wasn't often Harold Hill harbored regret, but he suddenly found himself wishing he could revisit the past and change certain decisions.

With a heavy sigh, he trudged to the washroom, lacking the motivation to indulge in the usual cheery tune he hummed every morning. Marian was gone, and there was no point in following after her. By choosing to let him sleep, she had communicated, in no uncertain terms, that she was not ready to discuss the events that had occurred. It would be best to leave her be. For now.

As he shut the door with a heavy hand and heart, Harold considered the day that lay ahead. Suddenly, the sights and sounds Des Moines had to offer didn't seem so exciting. Not without Marian. He picked up his razor, even as his brow furrowed in sadness when he realized his day would most likely be spent in the company of his own silence. Before he came to River City, the same silence had often been his only companion as he rode the rails out of town, traveling to the next sleepy city on his list. Although he had once welcomed the solitude as a time to reflect on the success of his con and plot out the details of the next one, he now realized he had been foolishly deceiving himself. Silence was golden. That was what his mother had always told him whenever he'd been too rambunctious for her liking. And at one time in his life, he believed it. But since he'd met Marian and discovered the sweet sounds of her love and laughter, he realized he no longer found his former friend as inviting. He couldn't bear to spend the day alone with his troubled conscience. Raising the blade to the stubble covering his cheek, Harold pondered the merit of returning to the small saloon he had visited the night before. Suddenly, the stout Kentucky bourbon looked quite inviting.

XXX

The biting winter chill pervaded the warmth of Marian's coat as she made her way through the streets of Des Moines. She had walked for more than an hour, wandering aimlessly down the sidewalks that lined the city, and she was finding it difficult to reign in her jumbled thoughts. It didn't help that she continually kept finding herself on the receiving end of several admiring glances when a solitary gentleman would happen to pass by. Initially, her first impulse was to be offended at the men's unmitigated gall, but then she remembered with the thick gloves covering her hands, the solicitous men would have no way of knowing she wore a wedding band. Once again, she felt a pang of sadness stab through her. Had Harold been by her side, it would be a moot point. Her husband's quiet, yet clearly evident, possessive air had been a most-effective ward against unwanted attentions during their courtship, and she had no doubt it would still prove so.

The thought instantly called to mind a trip she and Harold had taken shortly before their marriage. With the ceremony only two weeks away, Harold had come to Marian one evening in an unusually-frustrated mood. The librarian had been surprised to see him out of sorts, as her fiancé was usually quite unflappable. However, Marian knew even the coolest of individuals had their moments, so she had simply taken Harold by the hand, set him down on the nearest library bench and asked what was the matter. When he explained his cause for concern, Marian had to bite her lip lest she laugh and further inflame the situation. Her music professor, orchestrator of grandiose schemes and meticulous to a fault, was riled up over his inability to find a proper chair for their home in River City.

Although she was quick to offer several suggestions of items they had seen during the past few weeks, Harold was adamant they find a comfortable chair for the study before their wedding and ultimately that a trip to Davenport was in order. When Marian realized there was no way to talk him out of his idea – once Harold settled his mind on something, he passionately pursued it until he attained it – she had wisely suggested they invite her mother. Harold, who remembered Mrs. Paroo had wistfully mentioned she wished River City had the luxuries that surrounding cities had to offer, quickly agreed and did so once he had seen Marian safely home. The older woman had eagerly accepted the invitation and the next day, the four of them had set off for Davenport for an afternoon of shopping. While Winthrop and his mother explored the exquisite offerings of Von Maur, Marian and Harold opted to find the chair and then take a light lunch at a small restaurant nearby. The couple was just about to enter the Iowa Lunch Room when Harold realized he had forgotten his hat.

"I thought my ears were cold!" he grinned when he reached up to remove it before entering the establishment. Smiling ruefully, Harold motioned for Marian to step inside. "Why don't you wait where it's warm while I go back and find it," he suggested.

Chuckling at the dubious look she gave him, he reached down and caught her hand in his. Harold knew that although Marian had no difficulty speaking her mind and was quite adventurous in many respects, the thought of navigating a larger city alone was a bit daunting. Still, he didn't deem it necessary for her to accompany back to the store merely for the sake of his hat, so he felt it best she stay there rather than brave the chill with him. Giving her his most-winning smile, he leaned in closer and allowed his lips to lightly brush her ear as he spoke.

"Go ahead, darling. There's no reason for you to endure the cold again. I'll only be a minute," he promised.

"Are you certain?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes, but Harold could hear the uncertainty in her voice. Reaching down, he squeezed her hand lightly and nodded.

"Why don't you go ahead and find us a table? Then, when I get back, we can order our meals and you can tell me about the ideas you have for our reception."

At this, Marian brightened considerably, and Harold inwardly congratulated himself. Although his fiancée was one of the most sensible and level-headed women he'd ever known, she'd taken on an almost-exuberant glee in planning their wedding. Harold had been charmed by the excitement with which she'd approached the occasion, and he was happy to see the mention of their reception allay her hesitation. Giving her a final kiss on her mitten-covered hand, he waited until Marian had entered the restaurant before turning up the collar of his coat and thrusting his hands in his pockets as he made his way back to the store to retrieve his forgotten hat.

XXX

As Marian threaded her way through the crowded establishment, she was greeted by the tantalizing aromas of pot roast, mashed potatoes and apple cobbler. The room was bustling with activity and after several glances, she didn't see any available tables. Sighing in good-natured defeat, she opted for a seat at the counter near the large café window to wait until Harold returned. Perhaps then, something might be free.

As the din of the crowd wafted through the restaurant, Marian was content to sit and observe the couples and families seated around her. It was obviously a popular location, as evidenced by the lack of seating, and she found herself enjoying the bits and pieces of conversation that floated across the room to where she sat. As she listened with a curious ear, a man, whom she judged to be near her age, sidled alongside her and flashed a debonair grin.

"Hello," he greeted.

Marian gave a polite nod. "Hello."

The blonde stranger tilted his head toward her and smiled engagingly. "I don't believe I've seen you here before."

Marian couldn't help returning his sincere smile, and it surprised her. In the past, she would have brushed the man off with a frosty dismissal, but now she found herself willing to at least exchange pleasantries. Perhaps Harold's winning personality and affable manner had influenced her more than she realized.

"No," she allowed, "this is my first visit."

"Really? To the lunch room or to Davenport?"

"The Lunch Room." Her tone was still politely cool, but she let a hint of warmth to seep into her voice when the stranger's eyes widened in disbelief. "But, I haven't been to Davenport since I was a young girl."

"Well, it wasn't too long ago then, I'd wager," he laughed and extended a hand. "I'm Donald Ruebsam."

Somewhat startled by his bold compliment, Marian hesitantly offered her hand. Donald quickly took it and gave it a firm squeeze, which she found oddly amusing. His outgoing and somewhat flirtatious manner instantly reminded her of Harold, and she inwardly smiled. He could never meet a stranger, either, and his cheeky personality had been attractive from the very beginning, although she would never have admitted that to him back then. Emboldened by this realization and reasonably sure that Mr. Ruebsam was relatively harmless, she gave him a genuine smile and responded in kind.

"Marian Paroo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Donald beamed and propped an arm on the counter. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Paroo." The questioning note placed on Miss didn't escape Marian, but Donald continued before she could correct his misperception. "My family owns the Lunch Room, so I'm usually here every day. That's how I knew I hadn't seen you before."

"Oh how interesting," she murmured, suddenly eager to impart the knowledge that she was engaged woman to Mr. Ruebsam. But, he quickly began speaking again, eager to know where she was from and what brought her to Davenport. Sighing inwardly, she patiently answered his questions, all the while hoping Harold would find his hat and return … quickly.

XXX

Harold Hill was garnering amused stares from his fellow pedestrians. The music professor paid them no mind and continued to whistle a cheerful tune as he ambled along the snow-covered sidewalk. He was delighted to discover his hat exactly where he remembered setting it earlier that morning while perusing an oak chair at JP Aments Pianos and Furniture. He'd intended to retrieve it as he and Marian prepared to leave the store, but had been distracted when he heard Marian utter an exclamation of delight. When he turned to her, he was swept away by the expression of wonder that illuminated Marian's face as she stared longingly at the Steinway grand piano in the far corner of the room. His hat forgotten on a nearby pine dresser, Harold had immediately taken his place by her side as she lovingly ran her hands along the smooth keys. After obtaining permission from a nearby sales clerk, Marian began playing an evocative rendition of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" (her favorite piece she'd confided to Harold early on in their courtship). Harold had stood, spellbound, as she played, listening to the rapturous music swell and crescendo before tapering into a haunting echo as the last note died away.

The beaming smile she'd given him when he casually mentioned that perhaps someday he could afford something like for their house had caused his heart to skip a beat. But when she'd leaned closer and shyly whispered that she needed only him for their home to be complete, it took everything ounce of control Harold possessed not to take her in his arms right there in the middle of the store. Somehow, he didn't think Mr. Aments would be amenable to seeing him and his librarian engage in a passionate display in such a public setting, no matter how enjoyable it might for the parties involved.

Laughing aloud, Harold grinned at the reaction his dear little piano teacher would no doubt have at such a suggestion. He could almost hear the amused scolding that would surely have been given had he voiced his thoughts to Marian. Still, he reflected, it might merit his mentioning it simply to see her endearing blush – something he loved dearly – brighten her cheeks.

With that in mind, he peered through the Lunch Room searching for Marian. After a moment, his eyes landed on her impeccable form standing near the counter at the far end of the establishment, and his heart skipped a beat. Her loveliness captivated him. Even in something as mundane as waiting for him, Marian still managed to take his breath away. He shook his head. It was amazing the effect one woman could have on him. But as he continued to watch her, he realized she was engaged in conversation with the gentleman standing beside her. The man was obviously near her age. His tawny blonde hair was swept back in the latest style, but had been casually tousled by the newsboy cap he held at his side. There was no doubt the man presented the picture of elegance – his sleek gray suit was cut sharply to his form and a black-and-white striped tie, knotted expertly around his neck and snugly sitting above a darker charcoal, stood out in sharp contrast to the crisp white collar of the dress shirt he wore. Harold inwardly winced as he realized his once-impeccable wardrobe might need to be updated a bit to stay abreast of current fashions. There hadn't been as much of a need to do so once he'd settled in River City, but now, he felt decidedly out of his element.

Continuing to observe their conversation, Harold's brow furrowed in concern. He didn't know who this young upstart was, but he instantly recognized the gleam of masculine attraction in his eyes. After all, he knew it well enough, especially when it came to Marian Paroo. The usurper's body language clearly demonstrated an avid interest in Marian, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Harold felt an unfamiliar sensation coiling in his stomach and with a start, realized he was experiencing a disturbing rush of jealously. He was suddenly acutely aware of the age difference between him and Marian, although it had never really been a concern before. The citizens of River City had given the couple their blessing early on, and no one thought the May-December romance odd. Certainly, Harold did not act his forty two years. One evening, after a particularly-involved scavenger hunt, Marian had confided to him that sometimes even she had trouble keeping up with his crazy schemes. Harold, who was still full of energy after the two-hour search, had merely laughed and took her in arms, affectionately covering her face in kisses. When he finally released his dazed bride-to-be, he assured her he had no doubts as to her ability to keep pace.

Harold might have continued worrying about the situation had Marian not taken a slight step backward in an obvious effort to put some distance between herself and the young man. When Harold saw that, he felt his heart swell and every doubt that had been trying to worm its way into his mind instantly disappeared. Of course she wasn't attracted to him. Above all else, Marian Paroo was faithful. When she gave him her heart, she had done so completely. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him for having the audacity to doubt her for even one moment, but quickly pushed it aside, intent on returning to Marian's side and establishing his presence.

His confidence restored, Harold hurriedly stepped inside and weaved through the crowded room before quietly sidling next to his fiancée and unobtrusively reaching down to lace his fingers through hers. He felt Marian gave a small start when his hand wrapped around hers, but she quickly relaxed when she realized it was him.

"Hello, darling," he greeted her warmly. "I found my hat."

He watched as Marian's eyes flickered to his head and then back down, her mouth curving into a smile. "So I see."

She turned to the man next to her, and inclined her head. "Harold, this is Donald Ruebsam. His family owns this restaurant." Although her words were imbued with an air of politeness, he knew his librarian well enough to hear the minute trace of aloofness her tone carried. Donald Ruebsam, however, appeared oblivious to it. Harold smiled wolfishly: he would remedy that. Nonchalantly, he brought his and Marian's clasped hands to countertop, the engagement ring on her hand sparkling brightly as the sunlight played across it.

Harold watched with smug satisfaction as the young man's eyes darted down and then back up, consternation rapidly spreading across his features. Harold flashed him a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

The subtle inflection wasn't lost on Donald, and Harold was pleased to see his carefully-chosen appellation had the desired effect. With a polite nod and hastened reply, Donald greeted him and then quickly wished Marian a good day before hurriedly excusing himself.

Harold kept his eyes fixed on the man's retreating form, until he was satisfied Donald would not be returning. When he turned back to Marian, she greeted him with a sly smile, and he could almost swear he spied a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Madam Librarian?" he questioned, his own expression the epitome of innocence.

"Professor Hill," she returned, arching an eyebrow at him, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.

Harold merely smiled and then plucked for a menu from the counter, casually perusing the selections. He knew Marian was still watching – he could feel her gaze trained on him – but he took his time, occasionally making an approving sound when he found a particularly delectable dish.

"Harold Hill, it does not take a man that long to choose a sandwich."

He turned to see Marian frowning at him in amused frustration. Grinning, he lowered the menu and leaned in closer. "Miss Marian, is that a note of annoyance I hear?"

Marian smirked at him, but before Harold could ask why, he felt her shoe land squarely against his shin. "Ouch!" he yelped, staring at her in shock.

"Annoyance?" she echoed with a sweetly-innocent smile. Why yes, Professor, I believe it is." Marian shook her head, sighing as she did so. "Honestly, Harold, you're as bad as Winthrop."

Harold furrowed his brown in confusion. He wasn't sure what Marian had wanted to say to him, but he hadn't expected to be compared to her younger brother. "Winthrop? Marian, what are you talking about?"

"Yes. Winthrop. As much as he pretends to want nothing to do with Amaryllis, he instantly becomes jealous when any other boy comes near her," Marian explained.

Harold felt the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. "Ah, I see." He glanced to the far side of the room where Donald had retreated. "And you think I'm jealous of your new friend over there?"

"He's not my friend," Marian retorted. She leveled a stare at him, silently daring him to deny it, before agreeing to his earlier question. "But yes, in fact, I do."

Harold gazed thoughtfully for a moment, pondering her words. As he did, his eyes slowly traveled down and then back up, brazenly admiring her lithe form. When his eyes met hers, he was delighted to see a warm blush coloring her cheeks. Nodding in agreement, he brought her palm to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the smooth skin there. "Perhaps I am."

Marian smiled softly, but Harold glimpsed a touch of sadness in her eyes as she did. "You have no cause to be, Harold." Her words with spoken with the slightest hint of quiet reproach.

"I know that, Marian," he assured her, his playful grin disappearing as a look of seriousness stole across his countenance. Harold tightened his hand around hers. "Believe me, I do."

As Marian continued to gaze steadily at him, Harold found himself averting his eyes, suddenly quite self-conscious. Biting his lower lip in contemplation, he was silent for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts. When he looked again at Marian, she was quietly waiting, her expression tender but uncertain.

"Marian, I have never doubted your loyalty or affection." He raised her hand and tenderly pressed his lips against it. "If I said something to make you think otherwise, I apologize. If anything, it's you who should have cause to voice the concerns you suggest." His eyes brightened with emotion. "Not a day passes by that I don't wonder how you were able to look past the conman and see the good inside."

Marian's gaze dropped and an embarrassed smile crept across her features. "Well," she said softly, "it wasn't hidden too deeply." Sighing, she raised her gaze to his. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Harold."

Harold laughed, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "My dear little librarian, I think we both know that's certainly not the case!" he chuckled and was pleased when Marian joined in his laughter. As she shook her head in mock defeat, Harold placed the menu next to her. "Well, now that we've gotten that straight, what say we eat and then we'll go find your mother and Winthrop?"

XXX

Marian wasn't certain how long she had wandered aimlessly through Des Moines, but judging from the rumbling of her stomach, it had been several hours. A brief stop at a diner allowed her to satisfy her hunger, although she barely tasted what she was eating. She was well aware of the shuttered glances cast her way by the patrons seated around her. Although this would've usually bothered the librarian, she was too involved in her thoughts to care. All she could focus on was Harold, the woman from his past and what that meant for her own future. After quickly paying for her meal – thank goodness for the small sum Mama had pressed in her hand shortly before she and Harold boarded the train – Marian resumed her walk. She had no specific plan of where she was going. She simply needed to think. Although with all the twists and turns of the city streets, a map would have been useful. Recalling the ease with which Harold had navigated the city a day earlier, Marian realized she never thought to ask him how often he had visited Des Moines. This was quickly followed by the disturbing realization that the answer was obviously fairly often, if Constance was any indication. She sighed.

A turn around a familiar corner brought her into an open expanse, and she was startled to find that she had subconsciously navigated her way back to the city library. As she stood there, staring at the imposing landmark, Marian felt a warmth seep through her as she remembered the obvious effort Harold had put into their honeymoon. During his trip here in November, long before he'd proposed to her, he had taken painstaking care to research restaurants and shops he knew would capture her interest. And his proposal … the thoughtful planning and careful structuring of his schedule the week leading up to that wonderful night in the library – all of these things pointed to a man who was obviously besotted.

As the burgeoning awareness dawned on her, Marian was startled to discover her previous anger and hurt was slowly beginning to dissipate. Harold had turned his back on a life filled with travel and adventure to settle in a sleepy town like River City. He had established a legitimate business, purchased a home – all these things simply so he could ask for her hand. A sense of peace blossomed within her. Harold had chosen a future with her over his former life. When Marian had first fully realized the love she held for Harold Hill and decided her life would be with him, she spent several hours contemplating everything that entailed. Acknowledging his unsavory past – one filled with schemes and other women – had been unpleasant, and she knew, someday, she would eventually have to reconcile herself to that idea. Sadly, she didn't realize it would be so soon, but in a way, she was glad it had happened. Now that she had been forced to confront the undesirable facets of her husband's history, the dark specter of uncertainty was no longer looming in the background of their life together.