Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I know these are hard chapters, but it's setting things up. I promise it'll be worth it.


Grandfather found a little cottage to rent that stretched funds farther than living at an inn. She waited almost two weeks for Mark to make some kind of contact. A small coin purse arrived but no note or anything. The damn man kept true to his word of not risking her reputation by association. Every day, Grandfather insisted on signing the divorce papers. Every day, she threw them in the fire. He soon wised up and approached with papers that didn't matter if she burned them.

In a fine fit one day after hunting for the true divorce papers to burn them and coming up with nothing, she sat at the kitchen table with paper and quill.

Mark,

I will not write 'dear' because you are not in my good graces. I have waited two weeks to hear from you.

I don't give a damn that the rumors say you've gone mad. Rumors are rumors, and there is a fine line between mad and genius. I heard you stayed in the house and sold the country estate. I'd say you're an idiot, but you must have reason for staying. If you're not locked up in your house trying to come up with a plan to come for me, you'd damn well better start. I'm not going to sit here and be a damsel in distress. As soon as the babe comes and I can walk, I will sneak out of this cottage at night and walk to your house if I must.

The surgeon says the babe will come within the next couple weeks - almost six weeks early. I'm not giving birth that early and having a stillborn, so you'd better get over here and stop him from coming. Grandfather is giving me food that he says will keep the babe in longer.

I'm not signing the divorce papers. If you're the one sending Grandfather new copies, you can stop - it's a waste of good paper and the cottage gets warm burning them every day.

I'm too angry at you to sign this. Stop being an idiot and come.

There. The stupid man needed some sense knocked into him.

Two days later, a large coin purse arrived. And another fat purse two days after that. Still no note or sign of him.

A few days later, the sun shined and snow melted, offering a taste of spring. "You need some things for the babe. Let's go to the market."

Her eyebrows rose as Grandmama knelt and put her shoes on being she couldn't do it herself anymore with the babe in the way. Constant back pains kept her in bed the last couple days from what the surgeon declared as kidney stones. Mark still hadn't written, and Grandfather took every letter that she tried to send. "Grandmama, I don't think that it's wise to go out, particularly with kidney stone surgery and possibly a cesarean section tomorrow." Although a distraction would help with the fear that something would go wrong tomorrow.

"Nonsense. It would do you good to get out of here and not think about surgeries. We will go baby shopping. More money came yesterday. I swear we must be rich by now." Grandmama unbuttoned the back of her dress. "We'll put more of this cream from the surgeon on to help with the pain and then get you busy."

How Mark came by all this money so suddenly surely wasn't something she wanted to know.

The cream did help as much as the fresh air and distraction of the market. "Oh, Grandmama, look!" She stroked the softest yarn ever felt. A wood rattle at the next merchant's stand caught her eye. "Oh! Look at that!"

"Tanya, come look at this!" Grandmama grabbed her arm and pulled her across the path to a merchant who sold lanterns.

She frowned. "We don't need a lantern. Oh!" Grandmama pushed her to the side on purpose! She bumped shoulders with someone. "I'm sorry - " Mark.

He blinked in surprise and a longing smile burst out of him. "Tanya." Then he remembered himself. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Grandmama push - " She turned but Grandmama was nowhere in sight. Huh. She turned back to him. "What are you doing here? You're quite far from home."

He had an armload of goodies. "Oh," he looked down, as if he'd forgotten about his burden. "I, well, I was going to send these to you."

"Me?"

"Babes need a lot. They spit up at least five times a day, wet their nappies ten times..." He turned his head to look down at the side of the armful. "There were these little rattles and the train is for when she's older, but I couldn't resist. And babes' skin burns easier than ours in the summer, so she needs hats...I guess I got a little carried away." He blushed.

"You sound like you know a lot about babies," she laughed.

A shy smile tugged at his lips. "I've been picking the brains of mothers all morning. I'm sure the merchants talked me into things that probably aren't needed."

"Why are you out here? This must be almost two hours from home."

"Your grandmother wrote and said this is a good market to find things for the babe. Are you shopping for the babe too?"

So Grandmama had set this up. "Um, yes."

"How have you been?"

"How are you?!" Grandmama came over with arms wide and greeted Mark with a kiss on the cheek.

He blinked but gave a polite nod. "Yourself, madam?"

Grandmama gave a gentle elbow in the ribs. "The only man I've ever met who is always the gentleman." Then she turned her brilliant smile onto Mark. "I'm excited to be a great-grandmama. Are you baby shopping too?"

"Grandmama," she said under her breath in embarrassment.

Mark smiled and showed the treasures, although he glanced at her once with a puzzled expression over Grandmama's warm demeanor.

"The babe and Tanya will love all of it!"

"He didn't say it was all for us," she whispered. "Really, Grandmama, he sends hundreds of pounds and it is enough."

"What is it you English say? Oh yes - rubbish! He's as smitten with you as you are with him! Of course it's all for you and the babe."

That look of pain flashed across Mark's face again, and he wouldn't make eye contact. "I'm keeping you ladies from your shopping. Shall I put these in your carriage?"

"That would be so sweet of you. Tanya, show him where the carriage is." Then Grandmama swept away into the crowd for more shopping - likely farse shopping.

Awkward silence.

"Please, lead the way." His tone remained polite, but his heartache was palpable.

She led the way and then fell into step with him when the crowd thinned near the outskirts. His limp slowed him down more than usual. She glanced down. No brace or cane, but his knee didn't bend. "Your cane - did you forget it?"

"No, I've been practicing with a different brace made of less metal and more leather. It fits under clothes. I've found this one to be more tolerable to use for prolonged periods of time rather than the cane."

"Is it getting any better?"

He kept his eyes forward and seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic. "It is healed to what it will be. I can walk, so I can't complain."

"Mark, I'm sorry. I wish every day that maybe if I'd fought a little harder - "

"You had little chance against five men." Then he held her eyes for a moment. "There's not a day that I regret what I traded this for."

Her. A sad smile tugged. Such a dear man. "Do you need me to carry anything?"

"No," he said quickly. Then he almost smiled. "I received your letter."

A flush of embarrassment swept up, and she covered her cheeks with her hands. "Goodness, I'm not sure I'm glad you did get it. I was in a mood when I wrote it." She pointed to their carriage on the side of the road and stopped beside it.

He failed to smother a smile. "So I noticed. Somehow I would not expect a letter to say anything else from you." Then his smile faded and worry wrinkled his brow. "You never answered how you and the babe are. Is something wrong that the surgeon thinks you'll give birth early?"

Dropping her eyes to the ground, she stroked the babe. He'd only worry about something he couldn't do anything about, and Grandfather wouldn't let Mark come. Her stomach churned at the thought of having the babe without him there, of surgery, of pain...of the good chance she wouldn't wake up from the high-risk surgery. Then she looked up and searched those blue eyes, not sure if he should know or not. The ache for him poured out so strong that she couldn't speak. Raising to her toes, she cupped his face. Everything in his arms spilled at their feet as he caught her in his arms.

She kissed with the passion of a hundred moments like this that had been lost for the past month and the thousands more that may never come. A wave of pain hit from the cream wearing off. With a soft gasp, she let go and stepped back. Grabbing a handful of her cloak, she bowed her head and closed her eyes as she held her breath against the sharp pain.

He reached across the gap and tilted her chin up.

The pain eased a bit and she pulled away in embarrassment. He didn't need to know.

Those blue eyes squinted as his gaze narrowed. "You're in pain."

"My back sometimes acts up from the babe," she lied. Thankfully Grandmama walked over. "Grandmama, are you done shopping?" she asked, desperate to leave before she spilled it all or threw herself in his arms.

"Yes, dear. You look tired. Are you ready to go?" She looked from her to Mark.

With a nod, she turned to Mark. "Thank you for the gifts. And the funds."

"Tanya," he pleaded.

She opened the carriage door and held on to haul her bulk in and sat. "Grandfather will let you know when the babe's born." Odds are it would be tomorrow, and there'd never be a chance to tell him herself.

Grandmama got in and looked from her to Mark in confusion.

A tap to the roof set the carriage in motion.

"Tanya!" He grabbed the door, but his limp prevented him from keeping up. The carriage pulled away and he stood there in the road, his eyes wide in horror as he seemed to understand the hidden meaning in her words.

Grandmother sat back from leaning out the window to see Mark and frowned at her. "Did you tell him about the surgery?"

Staring out the window, she brushed away a tear. "What good would it do for him to know? To worry?"

"He could give another opinion, if nothing else."

"As if Grandfather would listen to his opinion," she snorted.

"He would if Mark says there's a safer way to save you. Stop!" Grandmama hit the roof.

The carriage lurched to a halt. "What are you doing?!"

Grandmama climbed out. "Mark!"

"Grandmama, stop it!" She scooted over and peeked out.

Mark hurried down the road as fast as he could, slightly breathless when he arrived. "What's wrong?"

"Tell him." Grandmama set her hands on her hips and glared at her from beside Mark.

"Tell me what?" Wide blue eyes flew to her.

"Get in the carriage and don't let her out until she tells you the two things happening with the surgeon tomorrow." Grandmama held the door while he climbed in and then she marched away.

He sat across the carriage and took her hands. "Tanya, what's wrong with the babe?"

Holding his hands made the walls crumble and everything blurred behind the tears. "Nothing's wrong with the babe - " The last word came out in a gasp as she clutched his hands during a sharp bolt of pain up her back.

He countered her grip and slid into the seat beside her, pulling her close with one arm and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Breathe, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice unsteady. He touched her quiet belly and his hand tightened in hers as she panted and leaned against his chest. When it passed, he asked in a thick voice, "What's wrong with you, Tanya?"

"He probably has to take the babe out tomorrow." She sniffled and rested a cheek against his chest. The fear finally let loose in the safety of his arms.

"Why?" He whispered patiently.

"Kidney stones have damaged a kidney. He said he has to take it out and the babe may not tolerate the surgery." Her lip quivered as his grip tightened. "He said I'll die without the surgery."

"Jesus, Tanya, the first kidney removal happened only a few years ago, and the patient died from infection. A successful one hasn't happened yet. Your grandmother arranged for us to meet today, didn't she? I don't care what your grandfather says - "

Grandmama stepped up to the window. "I see she told you. We've consulted two surgeons. Do you agree with them?"

He kept his arms around her. "As her husband, I will not let her return with you until I examine her and the babe."

A smile spread across Grandmama's lips and she climbed in the carriage. "How good of you." She tapped the roof.

Mark reached to carry her into the cottage, but even the light brush against her side cased a cry of pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, love." He took her hands and helped her inside.

"What are you doing here?!" Grandfather boomed at the door.

He gingerly set an arm around her and countered her firm grasp of his hand. "Saving my wife. She's in pain, so let me get to examining her. If you try to stop me, I will invoke my bondslave rights to her. I should think you value her life and will help me."

"What do you mean 'save' her?" Grandfather's eyes widened.

"A nephrectomy has yet to be done without the patient dying," Mark snapped.

Grandfather paled. "They never said that." He hurried forward and opened her bedroom door.

Mark helped her sit on the edge of the bed and then opened up the back of her dress. "I need to check for bruising." Then he palpated the side that didn't hurt before doing the other.

A soft cry of pain and he stopped and sat on the bed in front and palpated the babe. "When did it start?" He asked a battery of questions and then turned to Grandfather. "What's her diet?" As Grandfather answered, Mark sighed and ran a hand over his face. "That's not a diet she's used to. I agree that she has kidney stones, but I disagree that the next step is surgery. Her kidney is swollen - a bit."

Grandfather frowned. "We use herbs back home for that."

Mark shook his head. "We use water. I don't understand, though, why you aren't writhing in pain." He frowned.

"The surgeon gave a cream to use a few times a day." She held her side and pointed to the container on the dresser.

Mark got up, opened the can and took a sniff. Then he slammed the can down. "This has morphine. It's a wonder the babe is able to respond to any stimuli."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means this is too potent for the babe. At least you've only been using it sporadically for a couple days. Bring a pitcher of water and a glass."

Grandmama hurried out, and Mark took off his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves. Grandfather frowned when Mark handed her a glass of water and sat in the chair beside the bed. "Drink."

"This is your medicine?" Grandfather snapped.

"Her kidney isn't blocked. We see if she can flush it out on her own. I'm staying to monitor until it's out."

She drank and then set down the glass. "How do we know it's out?"

Mark picked it up and filled it again. "Unfortunately, you'll feel it work its way out when you use the washroom. You must tell me if the pain gets worse because we don't want your kidney to get blocked and swell up."

Grandfather ran a hand through his hair in distress. "This is not what the surgeon said. I never did anything with kidneys - "

"You should've listened to me and fetched Mark," Grandmama hissed.

Another wave of pain hit and she closed her eyes and clutched the sheets.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here now." Mark's hand slipped into hers.

They left the room and the pain passed a moment later. But she didn't let go of his hand. "Mark - "

He got up and found a chamber pot. "I need you to use this so I can monitor if any stones come through - "

"Mark, don't avoid me."

The man set down the pot and leaned his hip against the dresser but avoided her eyes. "Tanya, don't."

"I damn will!"

"Don't curse." His voice held no conviction and his shoulders slumped.

"I learned it from you. Where is all the money coming from?"

He just shook his head.

"Why are you still living there? What if someone else comes to burn the rest of it?"

He bowed his head.

"Why aren't you coming for me?!" Angry tears spilled over. "Do you understand that they want to take me to America and marry me to someone else?! That - "

"Because I told them to!" he snapped, his eyes shooting sparks of rage. He thrust a finger at the ground and his neck reddened. "I told them to get you the hell out of here as fast as they can because you're going down with me!" He flung out a hand. "You should hear the things they say about you in town! You're almost as much of a monster as I am!"

"Then tell them the truth!"

He shot to the bed and grabbed her upper arms. His eyes crackled and he hissed, "There are no words to fix this. We're ruined! Wherever we run, it will catch us! Even in America!"

"There has to be something!"

Getting up, he left the room and came back with papers. He dropped them in her lap and set down a quill. "Sign it."

Divorce papers. "No!" She looked up at him in horror.

"Sign it! The only chance you have of escaping this is for everyone to think you divorced me!"

"I won't sign it," she hissed and glared at him through the tears. When she moved to shred it, he snatched it away and threw them across the room. He ran his hands through his hair, looking so absolutely panicked. Then he turned and pointed at her with tears shimmering in his eyes. "You said you love me! How is that love to make me watch you burn with me?!"

"How is it love to abandon you?!" Tears poured out.

He fetched the papers and quill and set them in her lap. Then he worked his way to his knees. The tear that rolled down his cheek had the power to tear out her heart. "Please. I beg you. I don't know what's going to happen to me. They could come burn the house at night or sent me to the gallows for some heinous crime I didn't commit. Please, Tanya, give me the peace of knowing you are protected. Please."

Her face crumpled and she shook her head. "I love you."

"If you love me, you won't make me suffer this terror every day of not knowing when they'll come after you." He cupped her face in his hands. "Please. I have no other way to protect you and the babe. I know you love me. Sign, Tanya. God, please give me that. If I should die, please don't make my last moments terrified of what will happen to you - let my last moments be remembering your love." Another tear ran down his cheek.

"Don't talk like that," she sobbed.

"Tanya, please. Please." His voice cracked.

He never begged, and he never was terrified. Things were closing in on him if he now began to fear for her life. Love meant breaking your own heart to do what was best for the other. So she took the quill from him and wept as she signed her married name for the last time.