It was several days later, as she and Philip were out walking together, when they were accosted by a strange man.

Marina had taken to bringing Celeste out for a walk in the evenings. The air helped to settle Celeste, and she would often fall asleep, and blissfully stay asleep for several hours afterwards. Philip had returned from work that day looking pale and drawn, and Marina had asked him to join her, thinking the activity might do him some good as well.

She came to regret that decision.

They had been pleasantly engaged in conversation, Celeste sleeping in her sling across Marina's chest, when the man approached them. He was an older man, in his fifties perhaps, and well dressed – Marina would guess him to be of the merchant class, well-off if not well-bred.

"Philip Crane; I have not seen you since your father was alive," the man started by saying, and when Philip confessed he did not remember and offered his hand to shake, the man ignored the outstretched hand. "It is surely a blessing that he did not live to see you today."

Philip frowned slightly. "Excuse me?" Marina asked, unconsciously taking a step forward to put herself between Philip and his attacker.

"I always thought your father was a proper man, but he seems to have failed in raising you. Are you truly a man? How could a man have so little sense? You are bringing about an abomination, an affront to our Lord, and to good, sensible values."

"Treating people as property is the true affront," Philip said evenly. Marina was always amazed at his ability to remain calm in the face of people's stupidity. She felt her own hackles raising – she was not one to avoid a fight.

The man narrowed his eyes at Marina then. "Yes, I see why you think that way, darkie lover," he said, quietly enough so only the two of them could hear him.

This was enough to push Marina over the edge. "You are the affront to decency, you small minded prejudiced imbecile! Do you think you know better than the King? Would you say these things in front of Queen Charlotte, you coward? Get your treasonous person out of my sight and keep your thoughts to yourself!" Celeste woke up then and started crying and Marina shook her head at the man. "Look at yourself – making a baby cry with your nonsense!"

By this point the man looked at her with a mix of fury and confusion, as though he wasn't sure if he should retaliate or retreat. Philip put a hand on Marina's elbow to hold her back, but just then a man in a red coat stepped into the fray, smoothly putting his body between Marina and the angry man. "Excuse me miss, is this man harassing you?" he asked, his voice deep and pleasant. He turned to their aggressor and said, "You must excuse me, as I have been out of the country for some years, but please tell me; is it now the custom in England to harass mothers with their babes?"

The man reddened even more. "It's not – I wasn't…" He bowed to the soldier. "Excuse me," and hurried away, looking back over his shoulder to glare at Marina and Philip. Marina watched him go with relish, fighting down the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

Philip put his hand on Celeste's head, helping to soothe the upset baby. His other hand was still on Marina's arm, as though he meant to soothe her as well. She glared at Philip – she didn't want to be soothed. She wanted to be angry. She wanted him to be angry as well.

The soldier, having seen that the rude man was well and gone, turned back to Marina. "Rather an unpleasant fellow, wasn't he?" He laughed, the sound rumbling deeply in his wide chest. He was rather handsome, with a strong chin, and smiling eyes, and Marina felt a little flutter in her chest. She had always had a soft spot for men in the uniform after all. He noticed Philip standing by Marina then, and his eyes widened. "I say! Philip Crane – are you involved in this fuss? How do you do man?"

Philip bowed slightly to the man. "Good day Mr. Braithewite, and a welcome home is in order as well I suppose?"

Mr. Braithewite laughed, and Marina appraised him. So this was the brother Ms. Braithewite had talked about. They didn't look much alike, aside from their blonde curls. Where Ms. Braithewite's features were small and sharp, Mr. Braithewite had a broad, open face, and full lips. His nose appeared to have been broken on a previous occasion, and didn't sit quite straight on his face anymore. He had a pleasant, common kind of handsomeness about him. "Thank you, it is good to be back on English soil," Mr. Braithewite said. He leaned his head towards Marina. "Are you going to introduce us?"

"Ah, yes of course. Mr. Braithewite, may I introduce my wife, Marina. Marina, this is Henry Braithewite."

"A pleasure, Mrs. Crane," Mr. Braithewite said, taking Marina's hand and bowing over it. Marina waited for him to make a joke about their marriage, and was pleasantly surprised when he did not. Everyone else in Hampstead certainly had by now.

"And this one?" he asked, leaning over to look at Celeste, who was awake and curious, now that she was not so upset.

"Our daughter Celeste," Marina supplied.

Mr. Braithewite smiled and greeted her as well. Celeste lay silently in Marina's arms, staring at him with wide eyes, and Marina felt a surge of pride in her chest, at this beautiful person she had created. Mr. Braithewite straightened up then – he was very tall, Marina noticed – and bowed to Marina and Philip. "I really ought to run along; my sister is expecting me. It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Crane. Philip."

Marina and Philip watched him go, and when he was out of earshot Marina elbowed Philip. "Well! There's someone in this town who actually likes you!" she teased him.

"Hm. Well, he doesn't actively despise me at least," Philip said, and Marina snorted. She turned back to walking, but Philip paused. "Would you prefer to walk on alone?" he asked, when she looked back at him. "You don't get harassed so often when you walk alone, do you?"

"No I don't," she admitted, and he somehow managed to look relieved and disappointed at the same time. She shook her head and grinned at him. "Which is not nearly so interesting."

He chuckled softly, and they walked on together.

Two days later they received an invitation to the Braithewite's, to welcome the returning soldier. "Will you come?" Marina asked. "The invitation specifically mentions both of us." She was thinking of their previous meeting with Mr. Braithewite, and how perhaps he would be kinder to Philip than some of his other acquaintances.

Philip looked uncomfortable. "I suppose I should. I have known the Braithewite's all my life, and Henry has been at war for some time…" To Marina's eye, he looked like he was thinking of all the possible excuses he might use to avoid going. She wouldn't push him, not if he really didn't want to go, but she couldn't help wishing he would. He seemed to her to be in dire need of some real friends.

A letter arrived from Mrs. Crane later that same day, and after Philip read it, he told Marina he would be going to the party with her, and that his mother would be there as well. Marina covered a laugh, wondering what kind of orders Mrs. Crane had given him in her message.

She had Harriet stay at their home with Celeste that night. She was starting to eat some solid foods, and she always seemed to love being with Harriet, so Marina didn't feel too guilty about leaving the two of them together. Harriet was used to babies, besides, having all but raised several of her own younger siblings.

Philip seemed more apprehensive than Marina about leaving Celeste behind, giving her into Harriet's arms with some reluctance. Marina laughed a little at how anxious he seemed, though she understood the feeling. She slipped her arm through his and led him out the door, grinning at Harriet over her shoulder as she led him away. Harriet met her eyes and smiled knowingly.

"She'll be perfectly happy for a little while," Marina assured him as they stepped out. "She knows Harriet well."

"Yes…"

"And she is a very happy child."

"Yes, that is true…"

"Let's enjoy ourselves tonight," Marina entreated him. "We will drink good wine and eat delicious food, and perhaps even dance a few dances, and before you know it, we will be back home and you can hold Celeste again."

Philip was quiet for a long time after that. Finally he asked, "Am I ridiculous?"

"What?"

"With Celeste, do I make a fool of myself? I know she is not mine…"

Marina stopped walking and grabbed his elbow so that he turned to face her. She wanted to be certain he was listening when she said, "Celeste loves you. Don't worry about being ridiculous – you are kind, you are important to her – don't stop caring for her."

Philip nodded, and then laughed a little. "I don't know if I could stop, even if I tried." He started walking again, and Marina fell in step with him.

The Braithewite house was lit up with candles as they approached, and the low hum of a party greeted their ears. A butler opened the door for them and took their jackets, and their hosts were by the door to greet them.

"Philip! Mrs. Crane! I am so glad to see you've joined us!" Mr. Braithewite greeted them, smiling broadly. "I hope your walk here was uneventful?" he asked, grinning at Marina.

She grinned back at him. "Besides each other, there was no one to yell at us. It was quite boring."

Mrs. Braithewite greeted them warmly, looking intrigued by their already familiar manner. Mr. Braithewite just smiled, prepared to ignore her curiosity, so Marina explained, "We met a couple days ago, when Mr. Braithewite stepped in to help us deal with a most unpleasant man. It seems everywhere we go that someone takes offense to Philip's work."

"I see," Ms. Braithewite said, smiling kindly at Philip. She looked beautiful tonight, dressed in a pale green dress that brought out the colour of her eyes. She kissed Marina on the cheek, and brought her in to enjoy the party.

Marina looked around, impressed with the Braithewite manor. The room was brightly lit with hundreds of candles, and decorated with a lush profusion of flowers and feathers. It was an elegant room, worthy of a London party, and staffed by a small army of servants, carrying drinks and treats to the people milling about, chatting animatedly. There were musicians playing softly in the background, a calming tune as it was not yet time for dancing.

"I am so glad you came tonight," Ms. Braithewite told her.

"As am I," Marina agreed readily. She heard Mr. Braithewite's laughter behind her, and turned to see him slapping Philip good-naturedly on the shoulder, causing him to spill a little of his drink on the floor. Philip was smiling though, and Marina was glad to see it. She let herself relax a little, and snagged a glass of bubbly from a passing servant. Tonight she would have fun.

It was indeed a grand time. As she had promised Philip, the food was good, and the wine was excellent, and the Braithwite's were excellent company. Mrs. Crane arrived and brought Marina over for a chat with her outrageous widowed friends, and Marina had a pleasant buzz by that point, and was able to fully enjoy their ridiculous gossip, especially given that she didn't know half of the people they referred to.

She was deep in conversation with Mr. Braithewite when the dancing started. She couldn't remember what they had been talking about – rude men and overly interested mothers, or some such thing. All she remembered later was that she had been laughing a lot, and that he reminded of her George, in his open, engaging way. They watched the dancers for a couple dances, then she asked him if he wasn't going to ask one of the ladies present to dance.

"Are you not looking for a bride?" she asked playfully. "Isn't that why a soldier returns to England? To find himself a good English bride."

He laughed. "Hardly! I'm not ready to settle down just yet – though I will admit to missing the company of English women," he said, smiling winningly at her. She found herself blushing, and took another swig of her drink to cover it.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand. He looked over at the gaggle of mothers and older women and smiled. "I am afraid to dance with any eligible woman, for it will set their tongues waggling, but I should be safe dancing with you, no?"

Marina nodded with mock solemnity. "Yes of course. For I am a married matron – quite above scandal I'm sure."

He grinned and led her onto the floor. It had been so long since she had last danced, she couldn't quite remember all the steps, but he was a good partner, and led her back to the steps when she went astray. She enjoyed herself so much she felt laughter bubbling up her chest, and when she stepped on his foot and he made an exaggerated grimace of pain, her laughter burst out of her. Luckily, it was the end of the song, and she could curtsy and go back to the sidelines with him.

"I think I will have to practice my steps before I go out on the dance floor again," she admitted, as they joined Ms. Braithewite and Ms. Hurst.

"Please do – in seven years of service I have never been so grievously injured," Mr. Braithewite said.

"Surely not Mr. Braithewite!" Ms. Hurst exclaimed, missing his ironic tone. "Mrs. Crane could not have done so much damage to your foot I hope?"

Mr. Braithewite smiled winningly at her and winked. "Indeed not. She steps as lightly as feather. Ladies." He bowed to them and headed back across the room.

"Well, I am glad you are getting on with my brother," Ms. Braithewite said to Marina. "I was worried he might have lost all his manners while away at war."

"It would seem not."

"Come, let me hear all the gossip the old ladies have been sharing with you…"

Some time later she found Philip again, seated with Ms. Carmody, chatting quietly, away from the dancing. Marina sidled up to them and took the seat next to Philip.

"…you see she doesn't mean to be cruel," Ms. Carmody was saying. She looked up and smiled at Marina, including her in her thought. "She is not prepared for the ways in which the world is changing. I hope you won't be too upset with her."

Philip smiled gently. "She isn't the only one ill-equipped for our changing world. I admit, I have a hard time understanding her, but I bear her no ill-will." He looked over at Marina then, and added, "Mrs. Crane is helping me to understand her better, among other things."

Marina felt her cheeks growing warm, and Ms. Carmody smiled at her. "It must be so pleasant, to be so well matched," she said. Marina stared at the girl. She must be the only person in Hampstead who thought the two of them well matched – everyone else made a joke of their incompatibility.

Ms. Carmody looked around nervously, and stood. "I should go. My aunt will be looking for me."

"And she wouldn't like to see you with us," Marina added. Ms. Carmody looked dismayed, and curtsied to them, and Marina felt a twinge of regret. She hadn't meant to be cruel – the words just came out.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Philip asked. She looked over at him, wondering if he was being sarcastic, but he looked back at her with an open expression. She felt she had really put her foot in her mouth there, stepping in on a conciliatory conversation with her smart mouth. But he seemed not to judge her for it, or at least, he wasn't going to berate her.

"I am. Are you?" she asked, and he nodded, though she wasn't convinced. She knew this was not his element, and when he looked out over the party, she suspected he was thinking of Celeste back at home. She sighed.

"Should we leave?" she asked reluctantly.

"If you are ready."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he was ready – he was only here because of her. She looked out at the dancers again, and asked, "Should we dance one dance before we go?"

He looked very uncomfortable with the idea, and she wondered if he had heard of her poor display earlier, or if it was his own displeasure at the idea of dancing. He opened his mouth, and she was certain he would agree, that he would dance with her not because he wanted to dance, but because he didn't want to upset her by refusing, and she found herself interrupting.

"Never mind! There's no need for that – let's just go home."

He looked relieved, and they quickly said their goodbyes, thanking their hosts for a lovely evening.

"I hope to see more of you," Mr. Braithewite said, bowing over her hand. "Thank you for bringing such a bright light to our community Philip."

Philip just nodded, hardly seeming to register his words. "Thank you for a pleasant evening." Marina smiled apologetically at the siblings and they headed out.

Was it her imagination, or were his steps faster now that they were returning home?

"Sorry you had to go through that for me," Marina said waspishly, finding herself annoyed with him again. She really shouldn't go with him to any parties.

"I didn't have to go for you," he said simply, and she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. He went on, "Mr. Braithewite has been away at war for years now – his return is cause for celebration. The whole town is eager to celebrate his return, and I should have gone whether I had a wife or not."

"I see."

"Yes. So don't feel that you forced me to go." He smiled at her suddenly, and Marina felt confused. Was this his attempt to reassure her? Or was he just trying to avoid a fight? "But you did provide a good excuse to leave early. Rather than being sorry; I thank you."

Marina laughed, though she still felt confused. Philip confused her. She couldn't decide if he was a serious recluse or a charming man with a subtle wit. And she certainly couldn't figure out if his feelings for her were resentment or gratitude. But then, she couldn't figure out what her own feelings towards him were either.