The next afternoon she brought tea and biscuits out to the office, hoping to improve her relationship with Philip. She thought she might learn a bit about the business he found so interesting, and maybe if Mr. Locke was around, Philip might show a bit more of the spirit he had displayed in front of Mr. Glassen. Unfortunately, when she got there the office was empty except for Mr. Locke, busily writing at his cluttered desk.

He looked up when she entered the room with her tray and smiled broadly. "Mrs. Crane! How lovely to see you again!" He got up and cleared a space on his desk for her to set down the tray. "And bearing gifts I see!"

Marina smiled gently, trying to hide her disappointment. "I thought you might enjoy a little refreshment, while you are working so hard… My husband is not here?"

Mr. Locke had already picked up a biscuit and looked a bit stricken at this. "Oh! No, I am afraid he's gone out to the Dorset's, to have them sign their tenant contract. He should be back in a couple hours or so…"

Marina gave him her best society smile. "No matter. I hope you may be sustained through your work then." She started to pour the tea. "Milk? Sugar?"

"I wouldn't say we work so hard – milk and two sugars please – we haven't been very busy lately unfortunately," he said, taking a bite of the biscuit and grinning widely. "Delicious! I should perhaps say fortunately, for myself, as I have been slowly trying to extract myself from the business." He poked his wrinkled cheek. "I am preparing to retire you see."

"Oh?" Marina handed him a cup of tea and poured another for herself. She had no other plans for the afternoon, and Mr. Locke seemed to be a very chatty man. "So Philip will be running the business on his own?"

"In due time." Mr. Locke sat back at his desk, gesturing at the seat opposite him for her to sit down. "I hope to leave him in good standing. Ideally, he would find another partner for the business, but there are few good solicitors in the area."

"You seem very spritely still, to be retiring," Marina commented, earning a blush and a laugh from him.

"Thank you my dear! But I am quite ready to be done – all my best days of the law are behind me. Things are changing so fast… And my daughter in Lewes has five young children and a sizeable estate that she has asked me to help manage – the children mostly. I am looking forward to spending more time with them – while I am here it is difficult to see them more than two, three times per year."

Marina nodded. "It is difficult to be away from your family so much."

"What about you? Where is your family from?"

"My father's estate is in the country just East of Hampstead."

"Oh, that is good, to have them so close," he said cheerily, and she didn't bother to correct him. It would have been wonderful, to live close to her family, to be able to spend time with her mother and siblings still, if her father would allow them to have any relationship with her. As it was, knowing they were physically so close, but completely out of her reach was a heavy weight in her chest. "What did you say your maiden name was?"

"Thompson."

"Ah! The Thompson family! I have done a contract or two for your father, back in the day. I helped with the legal wrangling when he bought the place – it was a very tumultuous time for the law I tell you! I did your mother's papers too – ah, but I apologize. I should not talk of such things, not on such a beautiful day."

Marina blinked at him. Her mother's papers… She felt a wrench in her stomach, a sudden loathing for this man. Not because of what he had done, but because of the intimate knowledge he had of her lineage. Because he knew what her mother had been – a French woman, but even worse, a slave – before she was Mrs. Thompson, before Marina's father had lifted her up and made her a proper Englishwoman, as he had been happy to remind her whenever she stepped out of line. Marina had always pushed all that down, ignored the past to preserve her sanity in the present. And now here was a man who knew more even than she knew of her own mother's past.

He patted her hand gently and she struggled not to rip away from him. She said, "Thank you," to move past the talk, though it felt like acid coming up her throat. She looked around the office, hoping to find something else to shift the conversation towards.

"Who is Mrs. Patterson?" she asked, thinking of her unfortunate meeting with Mrs. Carmody. "Is hers an important case?"

Mr. Locke frowned disapprovingly. "I should say so… Perhaps. If anything comes of it." He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. "It is all Philip's business though – he can tell you more of it himself. He spends so much time working on her case, and for so little income. Not that income is the only reason we do this work," he amended hastily, "only, with a new pretty wife, a man has responsibilities beyond himself and his moral conscience."

Marina frowned at his monologue. He hadn't really answered her question after all. But he had warmed to this shift in topic, so she let him go on about a husband's responsibilities, and how he had worked like a dog for his own wife, which got him talking about his own, now sadly deceased, wife. Mr. Locke was the type of person who was very easy to have a conversation with, as long as you had no interest in expressing any thoughts of your own. Marina was nodding along, politely making noises of interest and waiting for a chance to take her leave, when a couple walked in to the office.

"Good day Mr. Locke!"

Mr. Locke got to his feet and rushed over to shake the man's hand. "Ah! Mr. and Mrs. Tuttle – is it so late in the afternoon already?"

Marina got to her feet, prepared to make her escape, but the couple noticed her.

"Is this the new bride?" Mrs. Tuttle asked, stepping towards Marina. Marina nodded and smiled at her. She was a small woman, in her late middle age, dressed simply but in a well-cut outfit.

"Of course – Mrs. Crane, this is Mr. and Mrs. Tuttle."

"You have been quite the mystery in town," Mr. Tuttle said, taking off his hat. He matched his wife nicely, being only slightly taller than her and dressed in a similar cut. They even wore similar colours, and Marina wondered if they dressed to match each other. He took a step closer to Marina and she noticed he was slightly shorter than her. "Everyone is very curious to know about the woman who married Philip."

"And they shall be so jealous to know that we have!" Mrs. Tuttle continued, husband and wife giving each other a knowing look.

Marina smiled, uncomfortable with this information, but Mrs. Tuttle took her hand and gave her a comforting smile. "I am sorry if we seem crass, only there is so rarely any news in Hampstead, and we love seeing new faces."

"Mrs. Crane is not altogether a new face," Mr. Locke told them. "She comes from the Thompson family, on Duke's Bridge farm."

Mrs. Tuttle looked at her again with renewed interest. "Truly! Is that how you and Philip came to be acquainted then?" Marina smiled, thinking it was close enough to the truth, but Mrs. Tuttle wasn't especially concerned with the details anyway, as she went on, "We all thought you were a Londoner, and here it turns out he went all the way to London to bring home a wife from around the corner! What a strange, small world we live in no?"

"Indeed, indeed, wife, though I am not ashamed to say that I am glad to hear you are a local girl," Mr. Tuttle added. "I was worried Philip would have saddled himself with a sophisticated woman, one who would not be suited to the slow pace of life here in our village. He would be too easily led astray, I think, by a woman used to all the goings on in London."

Marina smiled at the mental image of Philip with a flash wife from London, dragging him to parties and gambling dens. She couldn't imagine him getting excited about doing any of those things.

"Oh but we do have some social events here in Hampstead," Mrs. Tuttle cut in. "I'm sure a young thing like Mrs. Crane would be sorely disappointed if there was nothing to do at all. In fact – we should like to be the first to invite you to dinner!"

Mr. Tuttle gave his wife a look that indicated that he had had no such idea of an invitation, but apparently being an easily led man himself, he quickly smiled at Marina and declared the idea for himself. "Yes! Perhaps you will be able to get Philip out of his solitude and into social circles again. He has hardly been out since his brother went off to war…"

Mrs. Tuttle slapped her husband's arm. "Why should you bring up such a sad circumstance now?" She smiled kindly at Marina, though it did little to comfort the twisting in her gut. Of course George was known to all the residents of Hampstead. He would have made friends with everyone in his acquaintance after all. "Did he tell you about his brother?" Mrs. Tuttle asked her softly.

Marina nodded. "I knew him," she said. She should have pretended not to know him maybe, to try to hide every trace of their relationship, but she found she could not. She barely stopped herself from declaring how she loved him, how she knew him better than either of these old fools.

"He was such a lovely young man…"

"Indeed. It was such a loss, for his family and his country."

Mrs. Tuttle took Marina's hand and squeezed it. "I am glad that Philip has you to help him through his grief," she said. "I hope you will support him. And I hope you will encourage him to involve himself with people again. It is no good for a man to shut himself away too much. He must have friends."

"Yes, I will try," Marina agreed. She gently extricated her hand from Mrs. Tuttle's. "I should leave you now – I imagine you came today for some business with Mr. Locke, not only to chat with me."

"Oh, indeed! I had quite forgotten all about Mr. Locke," Mr. Tuttle said, laughing and patting Mr. Locke's shoulder to show that he jested.

"It was lovely to make your acquaintance," Mrs. Tuttle said.

Marina curtsied. "And you as well. I will speak with Philip and have him join us all for dinner. I am certain I can arrange it."

The Tuttles laughed at this. "I like her confidence!" Mrs. Tuttle declared, as she and her husband settled themselves across from Mr. Locke at his desk.

Marina closed the door on their laughter, taking a deep, steadying breath as she crossed back into her kitchen. She smiled as she cleaned the tea set in the sink. The Tuttles were older company than she would like to keep, but it was a start. If she could meet others at their dinner, then she might be invited to others. She might make friends, have a social life again…

She was excited to see Philip again and tell him about their dinner invite, but there was no sign of him through dinner, and she was waiting up in the sitting room, starting in on a shift for the baby when she heard the front door open. She went out into the hallway to greet him, and he blinked at her standing there, his mouth hanging open a little in surprise.

"Ah… Good evening," he said slowly. She frowned at him. Had he been drinking, or had he just forgotten that she still lived here? She took a step closer and he moved back a little. "Are you… is everything alright?" he asked.

Marina nodded. How did he manage to sour her good mood so easily? "Yes. How was your day?" She took a step back so that he could pass her to get to the kitchen, surreptitiously smelling the air around him as he passed, but there was no smell of alcohol. He smelled of grass and mud, and of sweat. The smell reminded her of George, of days when he would come to visit her, having walked through the forest to meet her. He smelled so wild, so manly, so unlike her mother and sisters who she spent all her time with. She had loved leaning against his shoulder, rubbing her nose against his collarbone and breathing in his scent.

"It was productive," Philip said, jarring her from her reverie. "I walked out to the Dorset's to finish the paperwork for their tenancy. Mr. Locke told me you stopped by the office while I was out." He poured himself a glass of water and turned back to her.

"Yes, I thought…" She felt suddenly that she didn't want to admit she had gone to see him. "I thought I should get to know Mr. Locke, since he is your business partner."

"I see. And what did you think of him?"

Marina blinked at Philip. She hadn't expected him to ask that. Who had ever cared about her opinion? "He seems a kind man. He is very happy to have someone to talk to, I think."

Philip let out a quick bark of laughter. "So you are capable of diplomacy!"

Marina narrowed her eyes at him.

"I mean no offense, only that you seem a woman not given to putting up with the failings of others. After your swift appraisals of Mrs. Carmody and Mr. Glassen, I thought you might have something more to say about Mr. Locke, who it is fair to say would continue a conversation with a wall, if it had an ear painted on it."

Marina bit back a snort. "As I said."

Philip smiled. "I should not be unkind. Mr. Locke has been my mentor and partner, and he knows what he is, and what I am. I am glad you liked him, though." He put down his glass and went to the cupboard to pull out something to eat.

"That is your dinner there," Marina said, gesturing to the plate covered by a napkin on the table.

"Oh! Thank you. You don't need to make me supper," Philip said. He sat at the table and lifted the napkin, smiling at the simple meal underneath.

"While I am making my own dinner, it hardly makes sense not to make enough for two," Marina explained, moving to sit across from him. " I mean, I don't mind," she continued, trying not to sound petulant. She had started the day with the intention of improving their relationship after all. She watched him take a few bites and then smile at her, and she felt oddly satisfied with his pleasure. She cleared her throat before speaking again. "Mr. and Mrs. Tuttle came by the office while I was there, and they have invited us for dinner."

Philip chewed slowly, thinking. When he swallowed his food he asked, "Do you want to go?"

"I do."

"Very well then."

Marina watched him eating in silence for a bit longer, wondering if it was really that easy. When she realized he wasn't going to add anything else she laughed. "I think they were right – you would have been far too easily led by a Londoner." Philip looked up at her, a confused expression on his face. "You are so easily led by me even."

"Hm. Well, don't lead me down the wrong path, if you please," he said.

Marina laughed.