London. The centre of Britain's Empire, the seat of it's power, the beating heart of the world.
How she hated the place.
Marina glared out the window at the passing streets. She had never wished to return here, to the city that ripped her heart out. The first time she had come here she had been defiant, prepared to laugh away all the suitors thrown at her, confident in her love with George. She had been so young, so brash, so naïve, and she had been torn down by the nobles and their scheming, put in her place by misfortune.
The Abernathy children stared about with wonder, pointing out the window, tilting the carriage from one side to the other as they all leaned to see out the same window. Celeste had fallen asleep on the way, but with all their noise she lifted her head, crying a little at being woken. Marina patted her back, trying to tamp down her displeasure at being back in London.
They were let out the coach some blocks from their destination, and walked the rest of the way to an inn on a quiet street. It wasn't the part of town that nobles would frequent, unless they were doing business, but it wasn't in the dirtiest parts of town. Perfectly respectable merchant class types walked the streets, and Marina hoped she wouldn't run into anyone she had known. It had been three years since she was last here – perhaps no one would recognize her anyway.
When she introduced herself to the innkeeper he told them that Philip was out in town, but showed them up to the two rooms he had rented. Marina looked into the first and saw a desk piled high with papers, and a stack of books on the floor beside it. "This must be Philip's room," she said with a smile, and looked into the other room. Mrs. Abernathy and her children went in, looking around and touching the beds, smiling at the curtains and the fireplace.
"Do you have a room where we can have dinner?" Marina asked the innkeeper.
Philip arrived while they were eating, and joined them at the table. Celeste was excited to see him, and jumped into his arms laughing. The pinched, tired look on his face eased as he laughed with her. He sat next to Mrs. Abernathy and asked her about her journey. Marina was happy to be quiet, and let the conversation ebb and flow around her.
After dinner Philip asked if Mrs. Abernathy would like to take a walk about town, and she agreed, once it was obvious the children were very excited to take a look about. Marina begged off, claiming she had a headache. "You take Celeste with you and enjoy yourselves," she told Philip. "I'll just stay in tonight."
She went back to the room and lay down on the bed, a familiar anger coiling in her stomach. She didn't have a headache, but she was afraid of meeting an old acquaintance on the street, afraid of being recognized as the girl who had been indiscreet and so had been the butt of Lady Whistledown's – and by extension, all of London's – joke. Being afraid made her angry. She got up and paced the room, working herself up. Why should she have to stay inside for fear of being recognized? Why should she be shamed?
She had been a stupid girl, but who had not been stupid in their lives?
She went to the window and looked down into the street. The sun was going down, and the street lighters were starting their night's work, going around lighting lamps up and down the street. She glared down at people walking by for a minute, and then sighed and went back to the bed.
She just wanted to go home as soon as possible.
She heard the others return before they got to the door – the children excitedly talking about the sights. Marina got up and opened the door before they reached her, and the children came running over to tell her about the biggest fountain they had ever seen, filled with fish.
"But not for eating," Oliver solemnly told her. Mary tugged his ear, and Marina grinned, guessing what trouble he might have got into.
"Alright children, time for bed now," Mrs. Abernathy chided them, ushering them into their room. She turned back and curtsied to Philip and Marina. "Thank you Mr. Crane. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Philip carried a very sleepy Celeste over his shoulder, and handed her over to Marina. Marina took her and sat on the bed with her, laying her down.
"The children seemed like they had fun," Marina said.
"Yes, I think so… It was good," Philip said softly, and sat down at the desk.
"I suppose they won't be having much fun in the days to come," Marina said.
Philip shook his head. He lifted a couple pieces of paper, then nodded to himself and turned back to Marina. "Oh yes – the judge! He read your testimony about the conditions at the Abernathy farm and wanted to ask you a few questions, if that's alright. He won't make you take the stand or be involved during the actual trial – once he has met with you he will take your written testimony as is. Is that alright with you?"
"Well I'm here aren't I?"
Philip nodded. "I suppose so." He looked back at the papers. "He is available to meet with you tomorrow afternoon. Is that alright? Otherwise, he said the next day is fine."
"Once I've talked with him, Celeste and I can go back to Hampstead?"
Philip nodded. "If you like. You might want to go stay with my mother – I'll be here for a week at least I think."
"Alright. Yes, let's meet tomorrow. I have no desire to stay here any longer than I have to."
Philip eyed her for a second, waiting for her to elaborate, but she looked down at Celeste, pushing away her grumpy thoughts. She was here for a reason – to help Mrs. Abernathy. She would do that, and she would leave, and she would never come back.
Marina laid down next to Celeste, and then sat up again a second later and looked around the room. It was a typical, well-appointed inn room. A couple of armchairs were arranged in front of the fireplace, and the desk in the corner, and the bed across from all that. Just the one bed.
"Where will you sleep tonight?" she asked Philip.
He didn't look up at her as he answered, waving his arm towards the chairs by the fireplace. "I'll sleep in the chair."
"Don't be stupid," Marina said, moving to one side of the bed, pulling Celeste into the middle of the bed. "There's plenty of room here, and you'll be useless if you can't sleep because you're trying to sleep in an uncomfortable chair."
Philip shook his head. "No, really, I'm fine. I have a lot of work to do here anyway…"
Marina glared at him for a bit, but he was absorbed in his work and didn't even seem to notice her annoyance, so eventually she laid down and closed her eyes, one arm over Celeste protectively. She fell asleep to the sound of his quill scratching against paper.
When she woke up the next morning Philip was asleep at the desk, his head pillowed on his arm. She winced, looking at him and imagining how sore his neck would be for the rest of the day.
"Well, if he will be stupid about it…" she muttered.
She touched his cheek gently, feather-light, tracing the edge of his ear. His cheek twitched but he did not wake up, and she let her fingers drift to his nose, his lips, but at that moment Celeste jumped on his knee, yelling, "Papa wake up!" and Philip startled awake, so that Marina accidentally poked him in the cheek.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed, stepping back. "I was just about to wake you…" she lied.
He blinked at her blearily, rubbing his cheek, then noticing the little girl clinging to his knee. He lifted her onto his lap, letting his daughter touch his face as he asked, "What time is it? Did I sleep late?"
Marina shook her head. "Not late. We have plenty of time before meeting the judge." She took Celeste from his lap. "We're going down for breakfast – if you want to sleep longer, you can take the bed."
She left Celeste with Mrs. Abernathy that afternoon while she and Philip went down to talk to the judge. She was nervous about going into the courthouse, but they went around the corner and into a small, comfortably furnished office to meet with the judge.
"Good day Mr. Crane, Mrs. Crane."
Marina curtsied deeply to the judge, feeling extremely nervous in front of him. She had been worried about saying the wrong thing all night, worried that something she said might ruin Mrs. Abernathy's chances in court. Seeing the judge here – though at least not in a court room – dressed in his robe, made her even more worried. He was a sour looking old man, with a bulbous red nose supporting a pair of spectacles.
She sat where he indicated for her to sit, Philip sitting in the other seat in the room, which was slightly behind her.
"I have asked you here to go over your testimony," the judge explained. "Your husband may be present, but he is not here to answer for you. Is that understood?" He peered over his glasses at Philip and then Marina. They both nodded.
"Very well. Now, I would like you to tell me what you saw that day."
Marina told him everything she had witnessed briefly, doing her best to explain how terrible it had been. "The notes I provided are more detailed – it was fresher in my mind when I wrote them."
"Yes…" the judge picked up a small stack of paper in front of him, and she recognized her handwriting on them. "There are your notes?"
"Yes."
"And you wrote these when?"
"The same day. When I returned to the office."
"Hm." He squinted at Philip, who stayed silent behind her. Finally, he nodded. "Very good. May I ask you a few more, clarifying questions?"
"Certainly."
They talked another half hour, the judge making notes as they spoke. Finally, he had no more questions. "Very good. I want to thank you, Mrs. Crane, for coming to London for this. You may well be part of a historic moment in our legal system."
"I hope it was helpful."
"I believe so. The truth often is," he said. He nodded to Philip, who got to his feet. Marina took his cue and rose also. "Thank you as well counsel. Your submission is noted."
"Thank you your honour." Philip bowed, and Marina curtsied again, and they left.
Out on the street, Marina let out a big sigh. "Well, that wasn't so bad."
"It remains to be seen," Philip said morosely. Marina threaded her arm though his and smiled at him.
"Don't be so negative! How do you ever win a case with an attitude like that?"
Philip smiled unconvincingly and they walked on.
Across the street, Marina noticed a familiar looking man. She tightened her grip on Philip's arm. "Is that Mr. Abernathy?"
Philip looked over, frowning, and saw him. Mr. Abernathy stopped as well, watching the two of them. He glared at them, but looked around at the busy streets and thought better of causing a scene and walked on. Marina watched him go, an ominous shiver down her back. "I didn't think he would be here today."
"No. Neither did I. I don't like it."
Marina squeezed his arm. "It'll be alright. You do worry too much." Still, she walked closer to Philip than she normally would on the walk back to the inn.
Over dinner Philip warned Mrs. Abernathy that her husband was in town, and she decided to stay in for the night. Marina went back to her room with Celeste, while Philip went to the innkeep to give them Mr. Abernathy's description and warn them against letting him in.
She was putting Celeste down to sleep when Philip came in.
"There, that's done," he said grimly, and went to the desk.
"What will happen if Mrs. Abernathy does get a divorce?" Marina wondered. "Will she ever be safe again?"
Philip rubbed his face, sighing. "I don't know… I don't know what to do to keep her safe."
"She can't go back to Hampstead," Marina said.
"No…" He read for a bit then sighed again, putting his head in his hand. "We will have to move her I suppose."
"We'll have to see what the judge rules before we can know what to do anyway," Marina reminded him. He nodded and flipped through some more papers, making notes.
Celeste snored lightly, and Marina smiled down at her. While Philip was absorbed in his work she stripped down to her shift and crawled into bed with Celeste. He never looked up, never tried to sneak a peek at her while she was in her state of undress. She was rather disappointed.
"You know, I don't mind if you sleep here too," she told him. "Look, Celeste will sleep between us – you'll be perfectly safe from me," she joked.
Philip laughed. "Alright. Thank you." Still, he didn't look up from his work.
Marina shrugged and cuddled up next to Celeste. Baby steps.
When she got up the next day he was asleep in one of the armchairs, which looked marginally more comfortable than the desk. She sat in the chair across from him and waited for Celeste to wake him.
"Celeste and I will return to Hampstead today," she told him.
"Oh? There's nothing else you'd like to do while you're here?" he asked.
"Nothing. It's better for both of us to be home."
"Very well." After breakfast he walked with them to the coach to see them off. He helped Marina up into the coach and then handed Celeste up to her.
"Good luck," she told him, squeezing his hand encouragingly. "It's going to be alright."
"I hope so."