The time passed too quickly, and before she knew it – before she was prepared – the court came to Hampstead.

The day before the trial they set up at the inn, getting ready to pretend the hall was a courtroom. Marina found herself walking past the inn with Celeste midday, trying not to look at what was happening, and unable to look away.

Mrs. Easton, the innkeeper's wife, saw Marina walking by while she was pumping water in the yard for cleaning. She shook her head and hurried over to see her.

"You would not believe the mess these men are making of my inn!" she complained to Marina, giving Celeste's cheek a little pinch as she greeted them. Celeste made a face and moved to stand behind Marina's skirts. "I don't know why justice requires them to scrape up my floors like that!"

She leaned in closer to Marina and put a hand on her arm. "I don't know why justice requires this trial to happen either," she said in a lower voice. "That Abernathy is a rotten fool and everyone knows it except for these fools from the city. It's a crying shame they're allowing this farce to continue!"

Marina squeezed the older woman's hand in thanks. "I hope the judge tomorrow sees what you see."

"Oh he will," Mrs. Easton said. She hit her right fist against her left palm and laughed. "Or I'll make sure he sees it!"

Celeste hadn't liked when the woman pinched her cheek, but she did enjoy that particular move, and spent the rest of the day making a little fist, and making threatening gestures at everyone she saw. When they got home she couldn't wait to show her father what she had learned that day, running up and telling him, "We make him see it!"

Philip nodded and smiled at Celeste, and then turned to Marina with a concerned look on his face. "Where is she learning these things?"

Marina just shrugged. "Who knows what children are learning these days." Philip shook his head, grinning.

At least she could still make him smile. She tried to savor that smile. It might be the last time she saw him smile for a long time.

Marina shook herself. "No point being so maudlin," she grumbled to herself. "Come along Celeste – let's make some cake for dinner."

"For dinner?"

She burned the cake. They had bread and cheese and sausage for dinner instead, reminding Marina of the first days she had come to this house. She looked over at Philip and thought back to those days, when she hated him, when she thought he hated her.

"The pear tree is blooming."

Philip looked up at her, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Hm?"

Marina pointed towards the back yard. "The pear tree is in bloom. I think there will be quite a few pears in the fall. Especially given the size of the tree."

Celeste perked up at this. "Yum pehs!"

Philip rubbed her head. "That will be nice…"

"We'll have to figure out what to do with all those pears," Marina went on. She suddenly needed him to agree with her. She needed him to pretend that everything was normal and she would definitely be there to deal with pears in the fall.

She had started to worry too, that Philip might have a hard time dealing with Celeste and the house if she did go away. Would she come back to find her daughter a wild thing, and her garden a neglected mess?

"Oh, I'm sure the neighbours will take some, if we have too many," Philip said absently.

"No!" Celeste banged her little fist on the table. "My pehs!"

"No darling, they're our pears," Marina said, smirking at Philip when he shook his head at her encouraging Celeste's outburst. "And don't you want to share them?"

"No!"

"Not with Harriet?"

Celeste thought about this for a moment. "Ok. Wit Harret."

"And grandma?"

Celeste nodded. "Yes."

"And what about Miss Braithewite? Miss Hurst? Wouldn't you like to give a pear to Mrs. Easton?" she asked, mimicking the fist pounding move Celeste had learned from her earlier that day. Celeste nodded. "You see? Our pears are for sharing, aren't they?"

She got Celeste down to bed and paced her room restlessly. Her mind kept jumping to the morrow, to the next years. She kept imagining coming home to a grown Celeste, only to have her little girl not recognize her…

She threw open the door to Philip's room, and before he could get up from his desk she grabbed his lapel and kissed him. He was stiff at first, clearly surprised by her attack, but she ran her tongue along his lower lip and he obediently opened his mouth for her, responding to her touch.

She put her hand to the back of his neck and leaned over him, tilting his head backwards while she explored his mouth. He put his hands lightly, shyly, on her hips and she pushed closer, positioning herself between his legs. He was so sweet, so pliable, she thought. She could just eat him up.

When she finally pulled herself away he was panting for breath. "I know you want to move slowly, but… What if the judge finds against me tomorrow? What if I have to go to prison?" She found she was shaking at the prospect, but whether it was with fear or with rage, she wasn't quite sure.

"It won't come to that," he said, taking her hands from his neck and rubbing his thumb along her palms. "We have the right of it – the judge will not send an innocent young mother to prison." He stood up, still holding her hands and led her to sit in a chair. She perched on the edge of the chair, doubting her choices. Perhaps she should have just paid Mr Abernathy off. Or she should have agreed to run away with Philip, start a new life somewhere far away.

"But what about me?" she asked, putting one of her dark hands on top of his. "I am not the young mother that courts love. I am not the proper young lady that England admires."

He didn't answer her, and she knew it was because she was right, because he wouldn't lie to her on this. He knew it too well – it was his job after all. "I won't let them take you," he said quietly, fiercely, and she pulled him close, wishing he had the power to make his words true.

He turned her face towards him and kissed her gently. "We will have time," he assured her. He trailed kisses along her cheeks, kissed her eyelids, her forehead.

She took a deep shuddering breath and tried to steady herself. "If I do go to prison…"

Philip started to protest, but she shushed him. "If I do go to prison," she said, "there are letters in my top drawer. I want you to send them."

He looked like he wanted to argue with the premise that she might go to prison, but instead he just nodded. She caressed his cheek and kissed him softly, without her previous aggression.

"I love you," she said. "Now, will you come to bed with me and Celeste? Let me have this night with the ones I love, in case…"

Philip nodded, and she led him back to her room where Celeste lay sleeping in her bed. They climbed in and curled around her, embracing their girl, Philip's arm wrapped over Celeste's shoulder and Marina's back. Marina kissed Philip, and kissed Celeste's forehead, then pulled him closer, folding herself around Celeste until their heartbeats became one.

Her own family, as one.