*(A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I've been busy with school, and something really serious happened to me as well that took me out for about a week. Again, I'm sorry about how long this took.)

*Even though the story's told in different, POVS, I won't always go in perfect order (because that gets boring, and sometimes, it's not necessary), I'll use the POV that is best needed to get the events in the chapter across/!

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ISOBELLE

I have to be more concerned with Delphine. Personally, I am trying my absolute best, but no matter what, everyone hates me for it. Perhaps I should simply realize I can't impress everyone. Still, it would most likely be in best interest to look like I care.

I've decided to visit in on one of her lessons. I'm not quite sure what she learns, but I trust that it's something good. Really, Delphine is a brilliant little girl.

I knock on the door to one of the upstairs rooms. Each of the rooms at the end of the hall is used as separate classrooms for Delphine. I'm curious to know what she learns.

The door opens, answered by a young man. He seems perhaps my age, or slightly order. He has dark hair and green eyes, and an extremely friendly smile. I don't see that all too often.

"Hello," I say quickly. "You must be one of Delphine's teachers."

He nods. "You must be her mother. I see the resemblance." I'm frozen for a second, struck by his odd accent. He isn't from England, or anywhere in Europe. I haven't ever heard a voice like his before.

"Come in, Mummy!" Delphine calls. "Look!"

I make uncomfortable eye-contact with Delphine's teacher for a brief moment. He opens the door wider to let me in.

"Thank you."

Delphine waves me over, and proudly shows me a sheet of parchment with her childish cursive all over it. "I'm doing my letters!" She tells me proudly. She then regards me with an expression of doubt. "Are they good, Mummy?"

"Yes, they're wonderful," I assure her. "They're very lovely. I'm proud of you, Delphine. You seem to be learning so much."

Delphine beams. "He taught me," she said, tilting her head in the direction of her teacher. "He talks funny."

Delphine!" I chide, even though I'm thinking the same thing. "That's rude, and you won't say it!"

Delphine bows her head. "Sorry, Mummy."

I look to her teacher. "My apologies."

He shakes his head nonchalantly. "It's no problem, Mrs.-"

"Oh, please, do just call me Isobelle," I tell him. He is quite handsome. "And what should I call you?"

He gives me a smile. "Just William's fine," he tells me.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, William," I say. "You have such an interesting accent. Where are you from?"

William frowns at me. "You've never heard an American accent?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I haven't. But I certainly like how it sounds." William gives me a warm smile.

Delphine comes to stand beside me. She tugs on the bottom of my robes. "Yes, darling?"

Delphine points to the clock. "My next class," she says quietly.

William looks away from me and grins at Delphine. "You did great today," he tells her.

Delphine beams at him. "Thanks!" She says quickly, leaving the room. It's just William and I.

I've never met an American before, and he seems quite interesting. I want to know more about him. Perhaps I'm obligated to, since he is my daughter's teacher.

"How did you end up in England?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"I attend University classes here," William tells me. I'm confused. He seems about my age. No one I know is still in University.

William must read the confused look off my face. "I've graduated, already," he tells me. "I'm going back for more degrees."

I shake my head slowly. "I'm sorry, I don't know… I don't know much about schooling," I admit.

William gives me a friendly smile, as if he pities me almost. "I forgot," he says sincerely. "Cultural difference."

"Excuse me?"

William looks directly at me. "Well, in the United States, pretty much everyone goes to college, even pureblooded women. We're, um, a lot less traditional."

I nod solemnly. "That's a good thing," I assure William. Still, I can't imagine a society where pureblooded women are meant to be something more than someone's wife. It seems almost too good to be true.

"Are you all right?" William must notice the pensive expression on my face. He tilts his head downward to meet my eyes, his full of concern.

"Yes," I say quickly, holding my chin high. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" William asks me. I put my back against the door frame.

"What everyone thinks is true. I'm hopelessly stupid."

William takes my hands, and it shocks me. Perhaps this is just a friendly gesture in the United States. "You're not stupid," he tells me. "I've met stupid people, and you aren't one of them."

How can he say that? He doesn't even know me. "I'm sure your very kind to your wife," I say bluntly.

William frowns slightly. "I'm not married," he informs me. "Not even close to it."

"I'm sorry, I just assumed…"

William shrugs. "It's fine. "

There's a moment of tension between the two of us. "What exactly does Delphine learn with you?" I question, trying to change the subject.

It seems to take William a second to catch on. "Writing and English," he tells me. "And if we have extra time, I let her look through a few books of mine. She enjoys the pictures."

"What sort of books?" I ask. I'm not trying to be critical; really I'm interested for myself.

"Art and history," William tells me. "They're mostly muggle. I could show you, if you were interested."

"Please."

William takes a large book off the table. He puts his arm around me so he can open the book properly. He smells of pine.

William shows me beautiful muggle photographs of painting and sculptures, and I'm so awed that I can't help but reach out and touch the pages. They're nothing like I've ever seen.

"I like them very much," I tell him.

I turn around to see William's reaction, and he's already grinning at me. "So does Delphine."

I'm not exactly sure how Simon would like Delphine learning about muggle things, But I suppose looking at pictures can't hurt if it's culturing her.

"She enjoys it?" I question.

William nods quickly. "Very much so," he assures me. He gives me a serious look. I crane my neck to look at him. "Honestly, you have a great daughter. She's very bright."

I've heard that multiple times, but apparently now it doesn't matter. No matter how smart Delphine is, she won't be good enough.

"It's late," I remind William. I'd like to talk to him more, but Simon could be home any minute. I glance at the clock. "Thank you very much for teaching Delphine. It was wonderful to meet you."

William closes his book and takes his arm from around me. "It's no problem," he assures me. "It was great meeting you too."

"Daddy!" Delphine says happily as Simon comes into the dining room. She runs into his arms and he picks her up.

"How is my beautiful daughter?" Simon questions, smiling genuinely at Delphine and kissing her cheek. That makes me smile as well. He rarely ever acknowledges her.

"Good!" Delphine answers. "Was today fun?"

"Jobs aren't supposed to be fun," Simon informs Delphine. "Did you give your mother any trouble today?"

Delphine shakes her head. "No! I was good," she assures him.

Simon sets Delphine down. "Wonderful."

He comes to the table and kisses me. I'm rather surprised. "I love you, wife," he tells me. Simon's behavior is so out of the ordinary that I'm suspicious. He only ever becomes affectionate when he's done something he knows is terrible. I want him to quit stalling and tell me what.

"I love you too," I say stiffly.

Delphine smiles at Simon and I. I think she's happier when we get along with one another. "You kissed," she says with a sneaky grin.

"Mothers and Fathers are supposed to kiss," Simon informs her. "Don't spill anything on yourself."

"Yes, Daddy."

Simon turns to me a propositioning expression on his face. "What do you think of us going away for a while?" He asks out of the blue. "On a sort of vacation."

I'm so surprised by his question I scoff. "I think I wouldn't like that," I answer honestly. "Why?"

Simon looks rather affronted at my refusal. "It was a mere suggestion," he says slowly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but England," I tell Simon. My family is here. I'm not stupid enough to leave with him, especially, when there's the possibility we may not return, knowing Simon.

Simon swallows hard. "Of course, not."

Delphine looks between Simon and I, sensing a bit of tension. "Mummy, do I do school tomorrow?" she asks me.

I nod. "You do school every day except for weekends, Delphine."

"Oh," she says. "I like school."

Simon gives her proud look. "I'm glad."

"Did you like school, Mummy?" Delphine asks, raising her eyebrows and setting me with curious brown eyes.

"Yes," I say. "I liked it very much." I did always like school, and I appreciated my education, but now I do realize what sort of value it has. I learned a lot from textbooks, but I'm not exactly able to do much for myself.

"Did you go to school like me?" she asks. "Or like Auntie Rose?"

"I went to private school until I was Hugo's age," I tell her.

Delphine seems interested. Simon looks on, although there's a faraway look in his eyes. "Did you learned what I learn?"

"I'm sure I did, although I can't quite remember-"

"Why?" Delphine demands, frowning.

"That was ages ago."

Delphine glances at me with a confused look. She purses her lips, and then looks at me again. "Mummy, how old are you?" she asks.

Simon catches Delphine's wrist with his hand. I know he isn't holding her tight enough to cause her any harm, but she still looks frightened. Delphine hangs her head and pokes out her lower lip.

"That's very rude to ask a woman her age," he informs Delphine coldly. "Apologize to your mother."

"Simon, it's fine," I say quietly, trying to calm him down.

He won't hear me. "Apologize!"

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Delphine says in a small voice. I can barely hear her. Simon lets her wrist go, but not without giving her a withering look. He wipes his hand on his napkin.

"Don't ever let me hear you do that again," Simon orders, pointing his finger at her. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Daddy."

That's all the proof I need to know something terrible has ruined Simon's day. Normally, he ignores Delphine's behavior and leaves the correction to me. Instead, he went off on her over something trivial.

I catch Simon's eye and give him a look to let him know I'm displeased. "Intervene next time and I won't have to," he says coldly, showing no remorse for the horrible way he's just treated his daughter.

"Yes, I'm at fault here," I say sarcastically. "My apologies."

"Don't mock me."

"I wasn't mocking you, but I hope you realize what you said made no sense."

Simon turns to Delphine, who is sulking with her head down. "Perhaps I shouldn't punish her for her rude behavior. She seems to be learning it from you."

"I'm the rude one," I repeat. Simon is an idiot. A horrible idiot. "I'm at fault in this situation, just like always. Merlin, I'm sorry. I forgot I married the perfect man who does no wrong."

Simon narrows his eyes at me, setting down his fork on his plate. "Would you like me to embarrass you in front of your daughter?" He threatens. "If that's what you want, then by all means, don't hesitate to ask."

"Stop fighting," Delphine whimpers, pouting.

"Quiet," Simon orders. He checks his watch. "It's nearly time for you to go to bed."

"It's barely seven," I point out. Delphine doesn't even have a bed time, as far as I know.

"I've had a long day," Simon sighs. "I'm not in the mood to be kept up all night."

I look to Delphine I do feel genuinely bad for her, but I'm also desperate to know what's got Simon in such a horrible mood.

Delphine pushes her plate away from her. "I'm sleepy anyway," she says sadly. "Mummy, take me to bed."

Simon gives me a slight frown and absentmindedly strokes the sleeve of my nightgown. He still won't look at me, s if doing so makes him guilty. If I didn't know better, I've say it's because he regrets the way he treats me. "You know I love you," he tells me. "I apologize for earlier."

I don't reply. I don't know that at all. "What happened today?" I ask instead. "I'm not stupid. Something's gone wrong, I can tell by how you're behaving."

Simon runs his hand through his hair, an offended look on his face. "Why must you assume-"

"I'm not stupid," I repeat. I sigh. "Just tell me."

Simon must want me in a good mood, because he doesn't say anything about my attitude with him, which is rare. I'm not complaining. He goes around my question, deciding to kiss me instead. His hands roam.

"Stop," I say, putting my hand on Simon's chest and pulling away. "What are you doing?"

"Being with my wife," Simon answers plainly, gently rubbing the back of his hand against my cheek. I don't want to be with him in any sort of way.

"Why?" I ask defiantly, sitting up. "You never seem concerned about me, why now?"

Simon sighs, and I'm slowly able to see how stressed and annoyed he really is. "Don't you think it's time for Delphine to have a brother?" he questions. "It's been four years."

I frown at Simon. "I was pregnant last year," I remind him painfully.

"You know what I mean, Isobelle. It's becoming shameful. No one in my family has struggled to have a son, like we have, so I'm certain it isn't my fault."

It all comes back to this. "That's all you want, isn't it?" I demand bitterly. "For me to be pregnant."

"I want a son," Simon nods, his blue eyes boring into mine. "By you."

My eyes widen, searching Simon's face for any hint that he simply made a bad choice of words. I have no such luck. "What do you mean?" I question slowly.

"Isobelle, calm down…" Simon reaches out to touch me. I recoil.

"How am I supposed to be calm?" I question. I can't breathe. This isn't happening. "You got Charlotte pregnant, didn't you? And now everyone's going to know you're cheating on me!"

Simon shakes his head slowly. "Charlotte is not pregnant," he tells me stiffly, staring up at the ceiling. He rolls his eyes.

"Then who is, Simon? There's someone else, isn't there? Some other whore you're sleeping with at work- of course, there is! I knew-"

"No one is pregnant!" Simon shouts angrily, still looking away from me.

"Then how do you have a child?" I ask. "Please elaborate, Simon, because I truly-"

"Catherine and I have a child," Simon interjects, his voice angrily low. "Are you happy?"

"Hell no, I'm not happy!" I scream. "You told me you didn't have any children! You lied-"

Simon's hands clasp my shoulders, trying to calm me. How can he expect me to take news like this lightly? This is the worst possible thing I could hear in my life. "Lower your voice!"

"Don't touch me!" I shout, my lower-lip trembling. "This is why I can't have children! Because every time we come close, you mention bullshit like this that I can't help but be stressed about! I want an explanation!"

"You don't order me to do anything!" Simon says, his voice loud. I struggle against him, and he pulls me close to his chest. I can't stop crying, thinking of the embarrassment I'm going to have to face. No one wants Simon and I together, and now that he and his other wife apparently have a child, it will just be more of a reason for people to spread nasty things about Delphine and I. How could Simon put me through this? If I ever felt guilty about what I wanted to do to him, all of those thoughts are gone. He deserves to die for everything he's put us through.

"H-how…?" I ask quietly, my voice broken. It's bad enough Simon doesn't love Delphine. And now that he has some illegitimate child running around with his ex-wife…

"She wrote me a couple days ago, and I'm sure it's out of nothing more than spite. I'm certain he's mine, because everything matches perfectly, and he resembles me greatly," he informs me. It hurts that I can tell he's trying to sound upset about this situation. But really, he sounds hopeful.

"Y-you w-were…" I can't finish my sentence, but Simon seems to understand what I'm trying to say.

"We were still married," Simon tells me. "At least for a few weeks. Meaning he's perfectly legitimate and eligible to inherit anything of mine. It seems she's smarter than I've given her credit for, since her new husband has blond hair and blue eyes as well. Perhaps she knew."

Does it really matter? How is it fair that this child, whoever he may be, has a connection to Simon, and indirectly to me, which I didn't even ask for? He doesn't deserve anything from Simon, not like Delphine does. I don't care at all for Catherine, or for her child. I've had to put up with Simon for the past five years, trying to bring Delphine up the best I can, and Catherine gets to leave him and be happy with her child? And then, simply because he was lucky and was born a boy, he inherits Simon's assets?

Simon kisses my forehead. "I don't love them anymore than you do," he assures me. It isn't as if it matters. And besides, he's got his son he's so desperately been asking for.

I cry harder, and for once, Simon tries to console me. I don't respect him any more for it. Actually, it makes me feel worse.

"You aren't to say anything," Simon tells me quietly. As if I'd want to. "Catherine promised me she'd stay quiet for the time being, until I figure something out. "

Is that supposed to make me feels better? Is that supposed to change the fact that once again, in Simon's eyes, Delphine is unimportant?

"I have a solution," Simon offers, lowering his face to my neck.

"Wh-what?" I ask.

Simon places a gentle kiss on my collarbone, and then another. His hands start at the buttons on the back of my nightgown. "If you give me a son," Simon whispers, no longer looking at me, "then I can find a way to get rid of Catherine and her son."

"Rid of," I repeat slowly, trying to pretend anything else, that this isn't happening to me, and that all of this isn't resting on my shoulders.

Simon nods slowly. "For once and for all," he assures me. "But, this depends on you. I need a son regardless, however I'd much rather have one with my current wife."

Simon's deft fingers trace across the bruise he left on my shoulder the other day. He stops momentarily, and I know he understands where it came from.

"I never laid a hand on Catherine," he informs me, placing his lips there. "I didn't love her as much as I love you. That's why the things you do anger me so much, because I understand how perfect you can be," he informs me, more preoccupied with my body than he is me.

I nod dumbly, as if I agree with Simon, and I'm sure that's what he thinks. Everyone thinks I'm an idiot anyway, so perhaps I should play that to my advantage. In reality, I want to vomit. I'm sick to my stomach, and I hate Simon.

"I love you," Simon tells me again. I can't bring myself to say anything back.

He reaches for the decanter of Firewhiskey on the bedside table and pours me a large glass. He won't admit it, but I understand that he likes sleeping with me better when I'm drunk, or very close to it. I'm not entirely offended. There isn't anything nice or gentle about him like there is with Teddy. It's more of an experience that I'd like to forget, and I'm certainly glad that I can. I suppose I just have to remind myself that I'm doing this to be fair to Delphine, and to myself. Catherine and her son don't deserve even a fraction of what Delphine and I do.

I'm a good mother.

(A/N: Hope you liked the chapter! I don't know, there more I think about it, I feel that if Isobelle and Simon didn't have so many issues, they could be a real power couple! Thoughts on the chapter? Leave a review lovely people!)