So... My computer died :( I lost a couple chapters, but luckily I do most of my writing on paper so all is not lost. But, with the business of life and this little hiccup, my updating schedule will be sporadic for a little while. But maybe (hopefully) I'll have some time over the holidays to do some writing! Thank you for reading - I really do want to see this through to the end!
She didn't sleep well for the next few days either.
She couldn't concentrate on anything, couldn't taste her food. She craved Philip's touch, and yet, whenever he did touch her, she was filled with dread at the thought of losing him.
It was such a cruel jest, that she should discover her mutual love for her husband, only days before she would have to go to London to prove her innocence.
They were such bittersweet days, filled with tenderness between her and Philip, finally. He was still shy with her, but he kept his promise and did his best to show his affection. A little touch on the shoulder, a brief touch of hands in the kitchen – she wouldn't have expected to get so much joy out of such little things. He never came so close to her again as he had that first night, but they stayed up late into the night in his room, talking about their feelings for each other.
"When did you start to love me?" she asked him. He was helping change the bandage on her hand. Not the most romantic moment, given how horrid her hand still looked, but he handled her injury with such delicacy, such caring, that she would rather have him take care of her than that awful doctor any day. He didn't look up from his careful ministration when he answered.
"From the moment I first saw you."
Marina rolled her eyes and lightly flicked the top of his head. "Oh come off it! You're no good at that romantic nonsense!"
Philip snorted. "I am wounded!" He looked up at her and smiled crookedly, and then blushed and looked back at her hand, finished wrapping the clean cloth around her hand and then held it lightly in his two hands. She waited for him to answer, knowing that it took him time to formulate his thoughts, especially when it came to expressing his feelings. "There was something though, when we first met. I was impressed with your anger - with your determination to lead your life as you chose."
"Impressed I wanted nothing to do with you," Marina laughed.
"More… with your independence. I thought: here is a young woman who has been dealt a horrible blow… I knew I was come to tell you terrible news and propose a terrible compromise. I had thought you would be more distraught. I had expected you to be tearful. Instead you were angry. I respected that."
"But surely you didn't fall in love with me then?"
"No… and you certainly didn't love me. When did that start to change?"
"I asked first."
Philip chuckled. "Fair enough." He turned and looked into the fire, thinking seriously. "It was the day I returned from London, and you were in the kitchen, eating roast beef with your fingers-"
"Oh! So it was when you first saw me half-dressed!" Marina said slyly, and he blushed as he shook his head.
"You were comfortable. At home. And you laughed – I felt that I had finally come home."
Marina couldn't help herself – she leaned across and kissed him. Just a little. Well, she had only intended to kiss him a little, but it felt so nice, and he leaned towards her too, so when she finally moved away they were both breathing a little heavier than usual.
"So it was when you first saw my teeth," she noted, and he burst out laughing.
The night before they were to go to London she put Celeste down to sleep and Philip came upstairs and joined her. They stood side by side watching her sleep, his shoulder lightly touching hers. He reached out and entwined his fingers through hers, and she suddenly burst into sobs.
"Marina! What is it?" he asked.
"I can't!" She held his hand tighter and pulled him out of the room, so her crying wouldn't wake Celeste.
"I'm sorry – I know I'm too emotional."
"It's alright-"
"It's not alright!" Marina growled. "Nothing about this is alright! That bastard is going to take my life from me, and he'll get to go through the world, ruining lives and thinking he was right!"
"That's not going to happen."
"It might! You know it could!"
He was quiet – because he knew she was right. Because he wouldn't lie to her about this.
"Just… hold me please," she said, and he wrapped his arms around her obediently. "Tighter." She pressed her face against his chest and breathed deeply, trying to forget everything else, trying to convince herself it would be alright.
They left Celeste with Mrs. Crane while they went to London. Before they left, Mrs. Crane squeezed Marina in a tight embrace.
"It will all turn out for the best," she said confidently, hugging Marina with surprising strength. Marina didn't share her confidence, but she appreciated her ferocity.
"Be good for Grandma alright?" she told Celeste, kneeling in front of her. "We'll be back before you know it."
"But why I can't come?" Celeste asked, holding Marina's skirt. Marina held her little hand, her heart breaking.
"It's going to be very boring," she told Celeste, trying to keep her voice level. "It's just a bunch of grown ups talking about boring things – you'll have much more fun here."
Celeste still pouted, but she put on a brave face and held her grandma's hand, waving as her parents rode away.
Marina held Philip's hand tightly on the ride. She didn't want to say anything. She didn't want to think anything. She just wanted it to be over.
It seemed Philip felt the same, because he barely said a word until they reached London; he just held onto her as tightly as she held him.
Sir Wolseley met them at the courthouse. "Good day Mrs. Crane, Mr. Crane," he greeted them as he helped Marina down from the carriage. He looked her up and down critically, nodding approvingly at her clothing choice. She smiled grimly. She had done as he suggested and was wearing her finest, most modest clothing. She had looked at herself this morning and thought that for the first time she really looked like a matron.
"Well, let's get this unpleasant business over with, shall we?"
Sir Wolseley led them in. "Don't worry too much. We aren't going into any courtroom – we'll meet Justice Avery in his chambers. Just think of it as going for a visit with a friend, to tell him about your experience."
Marina held back a snort. Justice Avery was no friend of hers.
The judge was an old man, his pale skin wrinkled and spotted with age. He looked very much as she had imagined he might. She had always thought those white wigs looked faintly ridiculous, and he was no exception. Still, she tried to keep her distaste hidden, and curtsied politely as she entered.
"Mr. Crane, if you don't mind, my intention was to speak to your wife alone," the judge said by way of greeting.
Philip paused by the door. "Good day sir, I just-"
Justice Avery held up his hand. "I'm sure you wanted to be present, to tell me yourself all about this sorry affair, but I am at present only interested in the principal parties' submissions." He gave Philip a condescending smile. "This isn't a trial yet man, you should know that."
"Yes sir," Philip said, bowing. "I will be outside, if you do have need of me."
Marina watched him go, feeling that the situation was already sliding out of control.
"Don't worry about him. He'll get over it," Justice Avery said, and let out a little laugh. "Have a seat Mrs. Crane."
"Yes. Thank you," she said stiffly. Sir Wolseley took a seat next to her, and she was glad the judge hadn't told even him to leave.
"Now, there's no need to be skittish. I am simply here to get to the truth of the matter. So tell me – what is the truth here?"
So Marina told him. She repeated her story, just as she had done for Sir Wolseley, as she had done many times before. She was glad that she had gone over it with Sir Wolseley beforehand, as she felt the emotional impact of it lessened with each telling. She was still furious with Mr. Abernathy, still frightened by what he had almost done, but she was able to keep her emotions in check, and tell her story clearly.
Justice Avery nodded along. He barely asked any questions, but Marina was sure to include some of the details that Sir Wolseley had asked her about before. When she had finished he was quiet for a long time, writing some notes.
"Mrs. Crane, might I see the injury you say you suffered?"
Sir Wolseley sat forward, "Your honour, it is not-"
"It's alright," Marina said, holding out her hand. She took off her left glove, which had been stretched around the bandage, and carefully unwound the cloth. Then she held out her ruined hand to the judge. The wound was starting to heal, but the doctor had not done a graceful job of stitching her up, and the skin was puckered into a hard ridge. It was still an ugly red wound, proof of her story.
The judge looked it over for a moment, one eyebrow lifted. Then he nodded to her. "You may put it away," he said.
Marina took her time wrapping it again. She wanted him to see her pain, to see that she had been hurt and deserved some kindness.
She was disappointed.
"I am going to send this matter to trial."
Before Sir Wolseley could stop her, Marina burst out, "But why? Did I not make myself clear?"
"You did Mrs. Crane," Justice Avery said, looking at her sternly. "As did Mr. Abernathy."
Sir Wolseley leaned forward. "Your Honour…"
"The judge held up his hand to silence him. "Might I suggest you bring a counter suit against Mr. Abernathy before trial? For I have heard two very different accounts of the day in question, but if either one is true, then one of you – Mrs. Crane or Mr. Abernathy – is a villain, and should face justice."
Sir Wolseley nodded, and surreptitiously held out his hand to Marina to keep her from arguing further. "I see."
"I will set the trial for one week from now. I see no reason to delay the matter – unless you have any objections?"
"No your Honour. May we run the trial in Hampstead? The majority of our witnesses are locals."
"Yes, we will make the arrangements. Very well then. I thank you Mrs. Crane for coming to talk with me today. I am certain you will make an excellent witness on the stand."
Sir Wolseley stood and Marina stood with him. She was sure she should be bowing to the judge, thanking him for his time, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Sir Wolseley bowed and escorted her from the room, wishing the judge good day.
The look on Philip's face when he heard they would go to trial would have been almost comical, if Marina was able to appreciate humor at that moment.
"I don't understand."
"I don't think this is all bad news," Sir Wolseley said. "We will bring the counter suit – I am sure Justice Avery will be receptive to it."
"If so, then how could he even…"
"…brought to justice…"
"…but the rigours of trial…"
Marina walked beside the two men in a dark haze, only occasionally reached by snippets of their conversation. She should have known she would never be allowed to be happy….
It was all so stupid. So frustrating. She was just so sick of being thrown about by the whims of men.
"I'll fight," she said loudly, and both men stopped their arguing and stared at her. "That's what the judge was saying I should do, wasn't it? I will fight him. And I will win."