His fingers were so slender, so elegant for a man's. She twined her own fingers with his, feeling the surprising roughness of his skin. She rubbed her thumb in circles over his knuckles, down the back of his hand to his wrist, feeling the play of muscles and bone under her fingertips.

He tried to pull away, but she caught his wrist in her hands, pulling him closer. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm, pleased with the deep blush that spread across his cheeks at her touch. She brushed soft kisses along the meat of his thumb, and when she took his finger into her mouth Philip moaned –

Marina woke up sweating and alone. It was dark – when she looked out the window the sky was full of stars. She glanced at the doorway to Philip's room, but it was dark. He was sleeping. She lay in bed for a while, waiting for a noise from Celeste, something to distract her from her lingering dream. When she closed her eyes she could see Philip's flushed face, hear his panting breath… She popped her eyes open.

"I can never make baked pears again."

At breakfast that morning she held Celeste on her lap, holding her up as a shield between her and Philip, worried that somehow he could tell that she had dreamed of him. When he put his tea down near the end of breakfast and looked her in the eye she nearly blurted, "It was a dream! It doesn't mean anything!" but she held herself in check. She behaved normally, said goodbye for the day as usual. Maybe. She couldn't tell what was normal behavior anymore.

It was an immense relief when Philip finally went to work, without questioning her.

She stayed around the house for a little while, but she was restless, and embarrassed, so she decided to go out walking with Celeste. She went out the back door and down the lane, so as to avoid Philip.

It was a cool day, and the sky threatened rain, but Marina enjoyed it. She felt it matched her mood. She took Celeste out towards the edge of town, carrying her most of the way. She was enjoying the cool air and swinging Celeste on her toes, and failed to notice Ms. Braithewite approaching until it was too late to avoid her.

"Marina! How have you been?" Ms. Braithewite asked. "I had heard you were stuck in bed with an injury…"

Marina nodded. "I'm much better now, thank you."

"And this is your daughter?" She knelt down and smiled at Celeste. "I'm very pleased to meet you." She held out her hand and Celeste grabbed it, laughing.

"Do you mind if I walk with you?" Ms. Braithewite asked Marina.

Marina shrugged. She couldn't stop her from doing as she wished. She was worried about receiving a lecture from Ms. Braithewite, but she had been expecting it for a long time now. It was only a matter of time really – at least now it would be over.

They walked in silence for a long time, neither ready to speak. Celeste toddled along for a bit, and then fell on her face and started crying, so Marina picked her up again.

"I should take her back home," Marina said, ineffectually wiping mud off Celeste's dress.

"I suppose so…" Ms. Braithewite turned back and continued walking with Marina though. She opened her mouth to speak a couple times, and sighed, and fell silent again. Finally, she worked up her courage, and asked, "Did my brother behave inappropriately to you?"

Marina sighed. She didn't want to deal with this – assuaging the family's indignant feelings, trying to assure themselves that their family would never act improperly – she'd hoped not to have to deal with this now that she was married, but here she was again. She was debating telling Ms. Braithewite that nothing happened, to try to avoid the issue altogether, but she had taken too long to decide, and Ms. Braithewite took her silence as assent.

"I see," she said coldly, then to Marina's surprise, she growled and kicked the nearest fence post. "Goddamit! That asshole! He always does this to my friends!"

Marina stared at her, surprised at this turn of events, and Ms. Braithewite took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry about him. I understand if you don't want to be in company with my family anymore."

"Wait. You're not mad at me?"

"What? Of course not! Henry is the one at fault here."

"And you… you think of me as a friend?" Marina had been sure they were already on bad terms, when Ms. Braithewite had confronted her about Philip's relationship with Celeste, and had expected Mr. Braithewite's actions to ruin any chance they had at friendship.

"I do." Ms. Braithewite answered shortly, but her cheeks flushed red. "Do you not?"

"No, I mean – yes. I want to be friends."

"Oh, good." Her cheek twitched awkwardly a second, and then she broke into a grin. "Can we please continue as friends? You're the most interesting person in town – I don't want to lose you because of my brother's stupidity!"

Marina laughed. "Yes! I thought you would blame me – that's usually what happens."

Ms. Braithewite rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."

They walked a while longer, then Ms. Braithewite said, "There is one thing…"

Marina flinched inwardly. "Yes?"

"Will you call me Gloria? If we are to be friends…"

"Oh! I would be happy to! And you should call me Marina."

They renewed their friendship on the walk back into town, catching up on all that had passed while they had avoided each other. They had each been afraid of what the other would say, after Mr. Braithewite's actions that night, and were relieved to go on as before. They parted ways amiably, and Marina felt light and relaxed, feeling a knot of tension in her heart eased.

She was feeling happy, but Celeste was tired and getting grumpy when they got home. They came in the front door and found Philip at his desk, writing. Marina leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on and Celeste grabbed at his hair. He turned around and smiled at Celeste, and Marina saw that he was writing up a brief for Mrs. Abernathy's case.

"What do you think of it?" she asked him, gesturing to his writing.

"Mrs. Abernathy's case? Well…" he shook his head slightly. "She has good grounds for divorce – her husband is clearly not providing for his family as he should, which is actually the stronger case for divorce than the abuse, as it stands now."

Marina could sense his hesitation. "But?"

"But everything we have here is based on her testimony alone. It is difficult to prove neglect – technically, he owns the property and has income, so he should be able to provide for his family. Her word alone may not be enough for the courts to decide he is not doing so."

"What about Mrs. Patterson? What was her case based on?"

Celeste reached out to Philip and he took her in his arms. "She had a case based on economic grounds mostly. There was some abuse, which can be proved by a doctor – Mrs. Abernathy can count on the same testimony. But there were also many witnesses who spoke to the lack of care given to the family and household in Mrs. Patterson's case. Debtors and men who had seen Mr. Patterson gambling away his money. I'll have to try to track down some people who know Mr. Abernathy, who can speak to his behavior."

"Hm." Celeste was grumbling, and her eyes were drifting closed as she tried to fight to stay awake, and Marina took her back from Philip. "I had better get this one to sleep. Do you need my help with any office work this afternoon?"

Philip shook his head. "Not at the moment." He grinned at her. "I'll allow you some time off I suppose."

Marina snorted and rolled her eyes. "What a generous father you have!" she said to Celeste, poking her nose. Celeste wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Yes, I agree."

Marina put Celeste down to sleep and spent the afternoon doing chores around the house. Her hands were kept busy, but her mind kept returning to Mrs. Abernathy. The poor woman was horribly mistreated by her husband, but it had been clear to Marina throughout their interview that she was mostly concerned for her children. It made Marina's heart ache, thinking about it. If Philip had been cruel to Celeste, she could not have borne it. She felt she could rip the eyes out of any man who would look at her child with hatred.

She kept worrying the issue of Mrs. Abernathy's case, wondering what could be done for the woman, angry that the courts might hear her story and think that she should stay with a man who would abuse her and her children. Was this the righteous anger that Philip had always expected from her?

She asked him about the case over dinner as well.

"I will go into town and find out more about Mr. Abernathy tomorrow," he said. "See who may be likely to testify as to his character."

Marina nodded. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You have already helped her," he told her. "You made her comfortable enough to tell her story, and recorded it well. I'm glad you were in the office the day she came to see me."

Marina blushed at the compliment, but she still felt uneasy. She lay awake that night, thinking on it. She had always known that there were plenty of unhappy marriages in the world. She had seen her own parents treat each other cruelly at times, though never viciously. When she had been in need of a husband, she had not expected to find a happy marriage – and she knew she was not the only young woman who had been forced by circumstances into a marriage she hadn't chosen. She had been lucky, after all, to have found Philip, and not been forced to marry a Lord Rutledge, or even a Colin Bridgerton. Would his family have been so forgiving, when she gave birth to a child who was not his? Would he have been able to love Celeste as dearly as Philip loved her now?

She had expected an unhappy marriage herself, had thought at times that most women were unhappily wed. Women had no choice – better to be married to a man you didn't love than to be a poor spinster, unable to support yourself. But to be forced to live with a vicious man, to put up with beatings and insults, to live in fear every day? Why did women have to live in such situations and be glad not to be alone?

The next morning she wished Philip luck in his work for the day. Harriet came over to help with washing the bedding, but Marina had formed a different plan for the day during her troubled night. "Will you watch Celeste for a few hours?" she asked Harriet. "I have an errand to run outside of town, and it will be faster without her."

"Should we do some baking together?" Harriet asked Celeste, and the little girl nodded vigorously. Harriet always baked something sweet for Celeste when she came to help out, and so she had won Celeste's affection easily. "We will be content together – you do what you need."

"Thank you Harriet." Marina headed out South of town, to the Abernathy farm. With what Philip had said yesterday, she thought it might be helpful to have a third party to witness the state the Abernathy's were living in, and whether Mr. Abernathy was supporting them.

Mr. Abernathy was outside the house when she approached. He was sitting on a bench outside the house, in a muddy area with some broken furniture and tools littered about. There was a bottle of something at his feet, and when he got up as she approached, he staggered a little. A chicken ran across his path as he took a couple steps towards her.

"Who're you? What're you doing on my land?" he asked roughly.

She nodded to him. "Good day. Mary at the grocer had no eggs this morning. I was hoping to buy some from you."

He squinted at her, clearly unhappy with her presence, and she stared back at him. Finally he called out, "Thomas!" and a skinny, dirty boy came out of the house. "The fine lady wants some eggs!" he said, sneering at her. Marina nodded, and stepped sideways closer to the house. The boy stared at her, his mouth hanging open, and Mr. Abernathy cuffed him over the head. "Well boy! Go get 'em!"

Cowed, the boy scuttled away, and Mr. Abernathy sat back on his bench. Marina waited a moment, looking around. The windows to the house were cracked, and one was missing entirely. She could see where the roof needed repairs, and she had seen how the boy's clothes did not fit him properly.

"You're not at work today?" she asked Mr. Abernathy.

"I'll go later, when they need me," he grumbled, and glared at her. "What business is it of yours?"

Marina shrugged. The boy, Thomas, came back with his shirt off, holding it in his hands with a handful of eggs delicately balanced in it.

"What're you doing idjit?" Mr. Abernathy berated him. "You gonna give the lady those eggs like that?"

Marina smiled gently at the boy. "Are there any boxes in here perhaps?" she asked, and looked into the house. She saw how run down the interior was, and another child lying on the floor inside. Mrs. Abernathy was in there as well, and her eyes widened in fright when she realized it was Marina at the window. Marina shook her head slightly at her, and turned to see Thomas holding out a burlap bag for the eggs.

"Oh, I see. Thank you." Marina helped him get the eggs safely into the bag and handed him a couple coins for the eggs. Thomas stared at the coins in his palm for a second, and then turned to his father, who was waving him over. He went to him, and put the coins in Mr. Abernathy's hand. Mr. Abernathy took them, and then roughly shoved the boy away. He got to his feet again, and moved towards Marina. "Is that all you'll be needing Miss…?"

Marina moved back, stepping quickly back towards the road. "Yes, that will be all, thank you."

"You have a nice day," he said, and spit on the ground.

Marina hurried home, careful of the eggs jostling about in the bag. When she got home she put the eggs in the kitchen, kissed Celeste briefly on the top of her head, and then went into the office to write down everything she had seen before she forgot the details. Philip was still out when she started, but he came back soon after she had finished.

"Did you have a productive day?' she asked him.

He nodded and sat at his desk, putting down a satchel of papers. "Yes. I found a few men I think will be good witnesses. I found records of Mrs. Abernathy's father owning the farm as well."

"Here." Marina put her report on his desk. "Will this help?"

Philip frowned at her a second, then looked down to read. As he read, his frown deepened, and he looked up again.

"You went to the house?"

Marina nodded. "Yes. It was terrible. He is clearly not providing-"

"Why did you go there?" he asked sharply. Marina took a step back. He had never spoken to her like that before.

"To collect evidence of course. You said it was his word against hers. Well, now you have another witness."

"It could have been dangerous."

"It was fine." Marina waved his concern away.

"Did you take Harriet with you? Or Celeste?"

"No… As I said, it was fine," Marina repeated firmly. She hadn't expected him to question her judgment like this. "I'm glad I didn't take Celeste with me though – it was horrid."

Philip frowned at her still. "You should be more careful."

Marina sighed. "Fine. I will. Will this help Mrs. Abernathy's case?" She gestured at her writing again.

He looked down and started to read. Marina went around the back of his chair so she could read over his shoulder, checking to make sure she hadn't left anything out. She was distracted by his fingers as he ran them across the page. She imagined him running his fingers across her skin in the same way, and she shivered.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and she realized how close she had gotten. He leaned away from her, and she backed up, her cheeks burning.

Philip cleared his throat. "Yes, this will help." He turned back to her. "Still, you should be careful. Mr. Abernathy is a violent man – he could have turned his violence on you."

Marina shrugged, though she was starting to feel uneasy, wondering if maybe she had been in more danger than she thought. "Well, he didn't," she said shortly, covering her anxiety. "And I got eggs."