Some days later Ms. Braithewite invited Marina to go riding with her. Marina accepted happily, and soon found herself out on the Braithewite property, astride a beautiful gray mare. It was just the two of them, Mr. Braithewite having gone to London to settle some business. "I don't know what it is; I don't care to know. Henry is a bit flighty – it's likely something silly."

Marina didn't mind his absence. She got on well enough with Ms. Braithewite, and riding once again was a delight. She and her sister Isabel had gone out as often as they could contrive to do so, pushing their poor workhorse to his limits trying to get him to gallop. Once upon a time, Isabel had been her closest friend, but Marina hadn't spoken to her since her father had sent her to London to find a husband.

They were traveling down a shady path when Ms. Braithewite slowed her horse down. Marina slowed to match her pace, and turned to look at her. "Mrs. Crane, there is something I would ask you."

Marina flinched inwardly. This didn't sound like good news. "What is it?"

"I have heard some news from London. Information about you that… is concerning." Ms. Braithewite looked uncomfortable, but she set her shoulders and went on. "Does Philip know about… about you being with child before the marriage? Is the child even his?" She glared at Marina, working her way from discomfort to anger.

Marina felt her insides grow cold in response. It seemed even out here she couldn't escape the grasp of that odious Whistledown. "I don't see how that is your business."

"Philip is my friend. I don't want to see him get hurt!"

Marina softened towards her. She tried to imagine what it looked like, from Ms. Braithewite's perspective. She knew it looked like she was using Philip, that she was making a fool of him. In truth, she was using him to save herself. "It isn't what you think," she tried to explain. "Celeste is Philip's daughter. If you could see them together-"

"Yes, but is she his?"

"She is his flesh and blood," Marina answered. "Philip and I do not have secrets from each other. I'm not – I don't want to hurt Philip."

Ms. Braithewite pursed her lips, still glaring at Marina. Marina looked back at her levelly, hoping to convey her earnestness. She couldn't exactly tell Ms. Braithewite the whole truth, but she had not lied in what she said. Finally, Ms. Braithewite nodded.

"Do you love him?" she asked, surprising Marina.

"I don't know… Marriage is… It's complicated," she answered, as honestly as she could. "Love is complicated too."

Ms. Braithewite snorted. "Apparently so." She nudged her horse back to a walk and Marina urged her horse to do the same. Ms. Braithewite was quiet a long time, then she said, "I'm sorry if my words offended you. I have known Philip for a long time, and I worried he would be taken in easily. He can be quite naïve."

Marina laughed. "It's true. I do worry about his backbone sometimes."

Ms. Braithewite gave her a sideways look. "I like you Marina. I should not listen to gossip some stranger is spreading about you. I apologize. Can we forget I ever doubted you in this way?"

Marina grinned at her. "You doubted me? I don't remember such a thing."

Ms. Braithewite laughed, and she spurred her horse on to a trot, and soon they were racing each other across the field. Marina found herself laughing for the pure joy of it, for the strength of the animal beneath her, and the freshness of the wind on her face.

They returned to the Braithewite manor just before dinner, to see Mr. Braithewite's horse newly returned. He came out the front door to greet them as they came in from their ride.

"Well, you are a couple of wild looking dryads aren't you?" he said with a grin. His sister slapped his shoulder and turned to Marina.

"Will you stay for dinner?" she asked.

Marina shook her head sadly. "I must return home. Celeste is waiting for me – and Philip too. Though honestly, when she is around I don't think he even notices my presence." She smiled at Ms. Braithewite, hoping to further reassure her on the matter of Celeste's parentage.

"In that case, let me offer you a ride home," Mr. Braithewite said. "Your child should not be kept waiting over long!"

"Oh, it is no bother…" Marina said, but he was already calling the servants to ready the curricle and her protests were ignored. She really could have walked home in the time it took to hitch up the horses and bring the ride around, but she wasn't too upset – she enjoyed both Braithewite siblings' company.

"How was your trip to London?" she asked him.

"Oh, perfectly amusing of course. There is so much to amuse one in London, especially when one is a silly young man," he replied, grinning irreverently.

She nodded and looked away. "Indeed. Less so for silly young women…"

"Oh, I think the truly silly ones are well amused," he answered. "Those with more intelligence see through the nonsense too much, perhaps."

She was already regretting bringing up the subject. Why had she reminded herself of her time in London?

"I brought you a gift," he told her, and she looked up at him in surprise.

He handed her a pamphlet and she stared at it a moment blindly, fearing he had gifted her the words of Lady Whistledown. When she was able to properly focus on it though, she realized it was a guide to the court dances, and how to step properly. She snorted and saluted him, acknowledging his hit. "I injured you that much, did I?"

He laughed. "My toes will never be the same!"

He let her down in front of the law office, kissing her gloved hand lightly. "Always a pleasure, Mrs. Crane. Give my regards to Philip."

She smiled. "Certainly. I hope we will see you again."

He winked at her roguishly. "You can depend on it."

Laughing at his foolishness she went inside.

Philip was home, walking around the kitchen with Celeste in his arms. Ever since Celeste's birth he hadn't been working so late, or going out delivering contracts all over the countryside. Marina had noticed light shining through the crack under his bedroom door at night though, as he worked late into the night to keep up with his workload.

"Ah, hello Marina. You just missed Mother – she sends her regrets; she had dinner plans with Mrs. Gleister."

"I hope you thanked her properly for looking after Celeste this afternoon," Marina told him. She took Celeste from him and brought her up to her room to feed her. "Did you have a good day with grandma?" she asked her, as she latched onto her breast. Celeste clenched her hand around one of Marina's fingers and cooed happily as she drank, and Marina sighed contentedly, lazily pushing the rocking chair back with one toe. The sun warmed her cheeks and she smoothed the soft downy hair along Celeste's forehead and felt utterly at peace for one beautiful moment.

After Celeste had fed the two of them went back downstairs. Philip was not in the kitchen or the sitting room and Marina suspected he had returned to the office to do some more work before dinner. She took Celeste out into the back yard to enjoy the sun a bit more.

"It's not quite as nice as grandma's gardens is it?" she said to Celeste. She looked around at the yard and thought again how she would like to improve on it. "We can put in a stone path from the back gate, to keep the mud down when it rains. And some flowers over here, and perhaps a kitchen garden in this corner…"

At dinner she asked Philip if he knew of any labourers who could help with the work. "I would like to improve the backyard. I can do it with my own money, but I don't know of anyone in town who will help with the work."

"I can pay for it – you don't need to pay for improvements to my house," Philip said.

"Yes, well, I do live here now," Marina snapped back, "As does my daughter."

"I didn't mean… I thought – Mother said you were so happy in the countryside with her."

Marina had enjoyed her time with Mrs. Crane at the estate. But Marina was also stubborn, and contrarian, and she might make arguments she didn't believe, just to win an argument. So at that moment she didn't consider his words, didn't think about how she would be leaving this house in less than a year – she simply argued. "We're not leaving just yet, and you said yourself I can spend my money as I like. I want the garden, and I shall pay for it. Just give me the names of the laborers and I will deal with it."

For once, Philip didn't just give in to her will. "At least let me pay for half of it. I will enjoy it as well, even once you are no longer here."

The way he kept talking about her leaving the house rankled her. "You don't even want the garden! If you wanted it, you would have done so already!"

"It's not that I don't want it, I just never gave it much thought before… My circumstances have changed now, and I think it is a good idea. So why shouldn't I invest in it as well?"

She knew he was making sense, but she was frustrated at him keeping his cool while she worked herself up, mad that he was making her feel like an overly emotional woman, and annoyed at how calculating he was being about their marriage and her life. She got her feet, startling Celeste into a frown, and shook her head at him. "Fine, I'll ask Harriet for the names!"

"What? I'll give you some names…"

"I said forget it!" she yelled and stormed up to her room, Celeste blinking confusedly in her arms. She threw herself into the rocking chair, rocking aggressively in an attempt to let out her frustrated energy. Celeste laughed at the shaking motion, and Marina felt some of her anger draining away.

"You understand, don't you?" she murmured to the baby, tickling her cheeks. "You're mad that he keeps trying to push us out, right? I thought he loved you too much…" She sighed, trying to sort her feelings. She had grown used to this house, to her room with the sunlit afternoons. She was comfortable here, more so than she could ever be with Mrs. Crane always around. She could order her own days, make decisions about when she would eat dinner, when she would go for a walk, or read. She had never really had that option before in her life. And it felt like Philip was trying to take it away from her. If their marriage was to last one year, then she only had months left to enjoy being in charge of her own life.

"I hope Mrs. Patterson wins," she said to Celeste. "I hope she wins, and I hope dozens more women win cases. I hope they keep winning and winning and when you grow up you can be in charge of your own life." Celeste smiled up at her and she kissed her daughter, fervently wishing she would have more control over her life than Marina ever did.

When she went downstairs for breakfast the next day she found a folded piece of paper on the kitchen table. It contained a list of names, and recommendations for each, in Philip's neat handwriting. At the bottom he had written, 'If you insist on paying for it yourself I can't stop you, but I believe you have other worthwhile things to do with your money. If you change your mind, I will provide funding.' She heaved a deep sigh, trying to push past her annoyance at him. She had to remind herself that he had been forced into this situation as well. As comfortable as she was in his house, she was displacing him and causing him discomfort. It was only natural that he would want his space back.

She ate breakfast while rereading the list. Every once in a while Celeste would reach out and she would give her a spoonful of oatmeal. Celeste would make a mess of it, and Marina would have to change before leaving the house, but she certainly seemed to enjoy having a little solid food.

One name – Martin Bridges – had been marked as a man who had worked on the Braithewite's garden, so Marina decided she would pay them a visit today and ask their opinion of his work. Over the course of the meal she also convinced herself she needed to reconcile with Philip, and that she should take his financial assistance after all.

She changed for the day and wrapped Celeste across her chest and then went down to the office to find Philip. He was nose deep in paper, writing a document, and referring often to another document on his desk. Mr. Locke was the one who noticed her come in, standing up and bowing to her.

"Good morning Mrs. Crane!"

"Good morning Mr. Locke, how is business this morning?"

He smiled and lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "Rather quiet for me – I'm just finishing up my last few clients. It will all be on your shoulders soon Philip!"

At the sound of his name Philip finally looked up, squinting at Mr. Locke, then noticing Marina and Celeste beside him. He shot up to his feet, looking guilty, and nodded to her. "Ah! Good morning!"

Marina smiled and went over to him. "I was thinking about what we talked of last night…" she said, then looked over at Mr. Locke. He smiled and waved at her, turning back to his own work, but she tilted her head to Philip and lowered her voice. It wasn't the kind of thing real married couples would say to each other. "I will accept your part of the funding for the garden," she said, using his own terminology. "I'm going to visit the Braithewites today, to inquire about Martin Bridges' work. Once I know how much it will cost, I will let you know." She looked down at the papers on his desk and smirked. "Should I write out a formal invoice for the work?"

He smiled, relieved that she wasn't angry with him anymore. "A verbal contract should suffice in this matter," he said. She laughed, but she wasn't really sure if he was joking or not. "Give my best to the Braithewites."

Marina set out for their estate, enjoying the long walk. She chatted to Celeste as they walked, and Celeste looked around as much as she could. She seemed to enjoy being outside, and was always cheerful out in the sun.

Ms. Braithewite recommended Mr. Bridges as a hard worker, and invited Marina and Celeste to have tea with her in her gardens to show off his work.

"It wasn't only his work, of course, but I can show you what he did specifically."

They spent a pleasant couple of hours with Ms. Braithewite and then headed home. Marina stopped by the Bridges' house on the way home to ask about hiring Mr. Bridges services. He wasn't home, but she left a message with his wife to contact her about the work.

She was quite tired when they got home, and not in the mood to cook anything. She was pleasantly surprised to see Philip was in the kitchen already, and had put out some cold meats and bread for dinner. She shared the roasted chestnuts she had picked up in the village on the way home, and they had a perfectly serviceable dinner. He still seemed a bit wary of her after their fight, but she told him of her day, and asked about his and they managed not to argue about that.

"I have to go back to London on Thursday," he told her. "I should only be gone one night – I am going to give my work to the legal team. They will be bringing her case to the judge next week."

"Already?"

He nodded. "Once it was decided to be tried, the court date was quickly set. There are a great many people interested in the outcome of this case."

"I should think so. If Mrs. Patterson wins, if she gains custody of her children, this will set a whole new precedent for familial law," Marina noted. She had been reading about the importance of legal precedent over the past week, and enjoyed being able to use it in conversation. Philip nodded in agreement, and she tilted her head at him. "It's a precedent that takes power away from the man," she pointed out.

"And gives some power to the woman," he replied, quite unbothered by the implications. "It puts them on more equal footing in the case of custody, and why shouldn't they be? It takes a man and a woman to make a child – are they not equally parents?"

Marina grinned at him. He was always most animated when talking about law – that and when he was with Celeste. "It's a shame you don't get to stand up and make these arguments to the judge yourself."

He blushed and looked down at his food. "It's better the job falls to the more experienced lawyers," he said. "I'm happy to be able to help."

Marina snorted. "Well, I hope the judge rules in Mrs. Patterson's favor." She grinned at Philip and added jokingly, "Then I can divorce you right away and take Celeste with me."

"If you like," Philip answered mildly, and she worried he thought she was serious.

"I mean, if Mrs. Carmody and her ilk are correct, that's all any woman is waiting for, right?" Philip just nodded and she sighed. "You're no fun, you know that?"

He nodded again, and was quiet for a bit, and she was wondering if she needed to explain that she wasn't really going to divorce him and take Celeste away, when he said, "You know, you don't have to… I mean, our marriage isn't…" He grimaced and trailed off.

"What?"

"You don't have to be loyal to me, if you prefer the company of another."

"Is that what you want?" she asked, wondering if he really did have another woman in his life.

"No. It's just, I had heard you've been spending more time with others, at dinners and such…"

"What? I can't go to an event without people pairing me off with some man? Is that it? Does spending time with others mean I must have an interest in them?" Marina asked angrily. She wasn't sure if she was more upset with gossip-mongers telling Philip she was being unfaithful, or with Philip for believing them.

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"You shouldn't. Nor should anyone else have anything to say about it."

He was gone Thursday night, and Celeste was not happy about it, but Marina got her through it. On Friday she received a letter from Philip telling her he would be gone longer than expected. Mr. Patterson had taken his children and tried to flee with them, and everyone was out searching for them. He hoped it wouldn't take long to find them, but he couldn't say for certain when he would be able to return.

Harriet was with her when she read the letter, and asked about the contents, apparently dismayed by Marina's expression as she read. Marina explained the situation to Harriet.

"What a horrible man!" Harriet exclaimed.

"Indeed. Stealing his children like that, because he can't bear to face the possibility of losing. What a coward."

"Cowardly, yes, that's the word." Harriet agreed, shaking the excess water out of the sheets. Marina took the other end of the sheet and they worked together to wring it out before putting it up on the line. "But what is Mr. Crane thinking, running around looking for someone else's children when his own is here all alone?" Harriet asked.

Marina laughed. "She's hardly alone Harriet."

"You know what I mean."

Marina looked over at Celeste, who was just starting to lift herself up onto her knees, and she smiled. "I'm sure he misses her," she said. "But I know he believes he is doing the right thing – for the Patterson children and for Celeste."

"Hm. Well, hopefully they find that villain quickly. I'm sure Philip'll be back before you know it."

That night Celeste was fussy and wouldn't settle. Marina tried the rocking chair, then walking around the room, but she just would not be appeased. As she was walking around her eye caught on the adjoining door and she thought she might have a way to help Celeste.

It took her a minute to find the key. When Philip had first given it to her she had shoved it to the back of her dresser, assuming she would never use it. She did so now, opening the door and letting herself and Celeste in.

The room was just what she imagined Philip's room would look like. He had his own desk in this room, and it was covered in legal books and scribbled writings, ink stains on the wood, and wax drippings from many late nights spent at work. There was a chair set near his fireplace, which also had legal books sprawled across it. She went closer and noticed a slimmer volume peeking out from under the top book and pulled it out, grinning to find it was the latest romance novel from Cecilia Tate. "Is this what he's been reading to you?" she asked Celeste. Celeste screamed and knocked the book from her hand. "Not your favorite? I'll let him know."

She brought Celeste over to Philip's bed and laid her down on his pillow, curling up beside her. Celeste fussed a bit, but seemed to calm down. "It smells like him doesn't it?" Marina asked her, petting her belly soothingly. "It's calming right?"

Celeste finally fell asleep, and Marina relaxed. She leaned her face into the pillow and took a deep breath. It really did smell like Philip – the particular smell of his sweat, mixed with the metallic tang of ink that always hovered about him. He smelled less of the forests and livestock than George had, and more of the smells of the village; cooking smells, wooden structures and dusty roads. He smelled of the people he served.

Briefly, she hoped he would return soon, before she fell asleep as well.