Marina swung her feet over the side of the bed, rubbing her bleary eyes. Philip was already up and out of bed – he usually was by the time she got up. Celeste often woke up with him. She was an early riser, just like her father.

Marina reached down and rubbed her swollen ankles, then forced herself to stand up instead of lying right back down in bed. She stretched her arms up to the ceiling and looked down her body, smiling at the small extra swelling of her belly.

She had only just started to show recently. At this point in her last pregnancy, she had been binding her belly down, wearing a little more flounce in the front to disguise her state. This time, she wanted to show it off.

"Will you be a lazy one like me?" she murmured to her new child. "Will you stay in bed and cuddle with me late into the morning?"

She slid her feet into a pair of slippers and went downstairs in her night gown, hoping there would be breakfast for her. At the very least, let there be tea.

Philip and Celeste were still seated at the table, both working away. He was writing something, and she had her little set of watercolours and was creating yet another masterpiece. After Ms. Hurst had introduced her to painting, Celeste could not get enough of it, and Marina had spent some of her dowry money to buy the girl her own set of paints.

Their house was covered with colourful, if somewhat abstract, paintings. Celeste's talents grew with each passing day though, and sometimes her subject matter was recognizable.

Marina ruffled Celeste's hair and leaned down to kiss her head, laughing as Celeste swatted her away like an annoying fly.

Philip stood up and tried to help Marina to a seat, and it was her turn to swat him away. "Let me be!" she grumbled at him. "I'm pregnant – not an invalid."

Still, he hovered. He was so nervous around her this time around. Marina smiled as she found the teapot was still warm and poured herself a cup. Well, he had been very nervous around her when she was pregnant with Celeste as well, though perhaps for different reasons.

She turned and eyed him. Perhaps for some of the same reasons too. The man worried all the time.

She frowned and pressed her hand against his cheek. "Are you feeling well?" she asked. "You look a little flushed."

He smiled reassuringly. "I am well. A little tired perhaps, but only because your breathing is even louder now than before."

Marina grinned and pinched his cheek for his insolence. "Are you going to suggest separate beds again?"

"No!" he held up his hands in a truce gesture. "I appreciate your breathing now – it lets me know that you are alive and well."

Marina rolled her eyes and set her tea at the table near Celeste. Apparently, Celeste thought it was too near, and pushed it further away without looking up from her work.

Marina turned back and put her arms around Philip's waist, smiling up at him. He was still awkward in her arms, even after months of intimacy. She grinned and leaned against him. He would always be awkward – that was part of the reason she loved him. "Don't work too hard," she told him.

"I can't make any promises," he replied with a grin. He took a last swig of his own tea and kissed the top of Celeste's head before heading out to the office.

Marina found herself some breakfast and sat next to Celeste. "Should we walk down and visit Harriet today?" she asked, and Celeste looked up from her painting at this idea.

"Yes! I have a present for her!" she said and rushed out to the sitting room. She returned a moment later with a painting in mostly blues and yellows in her hand. Marina took it and inspected it with a smile.

"I'm sure she will love it."

Marina left the breakfast dishes on the table – she didn't want to use up her energy on doing dishes when she could use it to visit a friend. She found she was having an easier pregnancy this time around, but it was hard to compare the two, considering the surrounding circumstances were so changed.

Celeste put on her favorite bonnet, and they headed out. They went through the front door, so that Celeste could kiss her father goodbye for the day. Marina was tempted, but didn't join in, figuring Celeste had embarrassed her father enough for the time being.

"Let's stop and buy Harriet some ribbon," Marina suggested, and Celeste heartily agreed, though she insisted that she get to choose the ribbon.

Naturally, she chose the most expensive ribbon in the store, but Marina was happy to spend her money on her friends and her daughter's happiness.

"See Mama? It matches!" Celeste said proudly, holding the ribbon up to the painting. Marina never failed to be impressed with her intelligence and her excellent sense of aesthetics.

Harriet was helping her aunt at the grocery, but she took a break to visit with the two of them in the sunny yard out back. She was very impressed with Celeste's handiwork. "And you chose this ribbon yourself?" she asked, grinning at Celeste. "Did you pay for it yourself too?"

"I did!" Celeste said proudly, and Harriet laughed and looked at Marina.

Marina shrugged. "Well, she handed the money over the Helen," she said. As far as Celeste was concerned – that was the part that mattered.

Marina took Harriet's hands. "And how are you Harriet?"

"I'm well," she said, but she avoided Marina's gaze.

"What? What is it?" Marina asked.

Harriet gave a little shake of her head, but then she said, "It's my father. Well – it's the man he has decided I will marry."

Marina gave her friends big, calloused hands a squeeze. "Who is this man?"

"I don't know really. He is the nephew of one of father's friends. A wheelwright in Hatfield."

"But you don't want to marry him."

Hariet shook her head. "No. I don't know – I… He is a stranger, and I worry."

"You are perfectly entitled to worry."

"But my father believes he will make me a good match, and I trust my father. And he has been telling me to get married for years now, and I understand he is growing impatient. He wants what is best for me, and for the rest of our family. Only…" Marina waited for Harriet to continue. "I don't think I want to marry," she finally said quietly. "I don't think I ever want to marry…"

Marina put one arm around Harriet's shoulder, and Celeste climbed up to put her small arm around her other shoulder. "So don't marry!" Celeste said simply.

Harriet choked out a laugh. "If only it was that simple. But I can't live in my parents' house forever."

"Why not?" Celeste asked. "I will live with my parents forever."

Marina arched an eyebrow at Celeste – this was her first time hearing about this!

"I understand," Marina told Harriet. "But…" Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do.

"Come live with us!" Celeste told her.

"Oh! I couldn't do that!"

Marina pursed her lips. "Maybe you could…" She wondered what Philip would say to having Harriet come live with them. Well, she was sure she could make him agree to just about anything…

Harriet put her hands on top of Marina's. "No, I wouldn't ask you to do that." She sighed. "I will meet this man, and who knows? Maybe I will be as lucky as you were, with Philip. Maybe I will like married life, once I am living in it."

Marina nodded, though in her heart she worried for Harriet. She had been lucky with Philip – more women were unlucky with their husbands than not though.

Harriet got to her feet, Celeste sliding down the ground again. "I had best get back to work. Aunt Mary will be wondering if I've abandoned her for the day!"

Marina snorted. "No one would ever suspect you of such a thing," she said. But she took Celeste's hand and they headed out, wishing Mary a good day on their way.

It was a nice day, so they took a scenic walk home, going up past the church and back into town. Marina worried over Harriet's problem as they walked, wondering if there really wasn't something she could do. Perhaps, if she could find the funds to hire Harriet on again, then Harriet could find her own living space…

She would have to talk with Philip about it.

They came back home through the back door, and sat down on the settee. Celeste grew sleepy in the sun – despite her insistence that she was a big girl now, she still went down for the occasional nap. Which Marina – as an adult – was happy to do with her.

Today though, she left Celeste sleeping on the sofa and went to find Philip in his office. Luckily there were no clients with him, so she was able to talk with him.

"We've just been to visit Harriet," she said, and started to explain the situation. Philip nodded along, and when she asked if he thought they could support her, he agreed.

"It would be good…" He blinked owlishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think, maybe, if I can get a few more clients from the surrounds… I can try Barton…" He frowned, and Marina noticed his breathing was erratic.

She stood up and went to him, feeling the skin under his collar. "Philip, you're burning up!" she exclaimed.

"I'll be fine," he said.

"Yes, you will be fine once you get into bed and lay down," she said. She pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Philip nodded. "No need to make such a fuss," he said. "I will be fine…" He took a step around his desk, unsteadily, and Marina was not strong enough to catch him as he slid to the ground.

"Philip!" she screamed, patting his face. Her own heart beat furiously, as panic clawed its way up her throat. How could she have been so oblivious? How could she not see how sick he was?

He breathed heavily, and she was just glad he was still breathing. But what was she supposed to do with him now?

She stood up and went out the front door. Luckily there were people nearby. "Mr. Hanley! I need your help!"

Mr. Hanley rushed over to help, and together they pulled Philip upstairs to his room and put him in his bed.

"I'll fetch the doctor for you!" Mr. Hanley said, rushing out of the room as soon as he saw Philip was safely in his bed.

"Don't-" But he was gone before Marina could stop him. She sighed and turned back to Philip. In any case, the doctor probably would not show up anyway, once he knew what house it was that needed him.

"Well, we don't need him," she muttered under her breath, patting Philip's forehead with a towel.

Philip roused enough at that point to blink up at her. "What's going on? How did I get here…?"

"If you can talk, help me with your jacket," she told him, and started to pull off his outer clothing. He moved feebly to help her, leaning forward to make it easier to pull his jacket off. Sweat beaded on his neck and down his collarbones, flushed with fever.

"Why are you such a stubborn mule?" she gritted out through her panic.

"You're one to talk," he murmured. The work of removing his clothing had exhausted him, and he fell back onto the pillows. Marina rushed downstairs for some water, and fresh towels. She checked that Celeste was still – mercifully – asleep on the settee, and hurried back upstairs.

Philip appeared to be asleep, though his breathing was too laboured for her liking. She went to him, and started to wipe him with the cool towels.

"You should stay away," he told her, mumbling a little. "I don't want you to get sick."

"I'm fine."

"But-"

"I'm not leaving you Philip. You know as well as I do that that damn doctor isn't coming, so shut your mouth and drink some water."

Philip managed a weak smile. "With my mouth shut…?"

Marina growled, and lifted his head to help him drink. He leaned forward a bit and took the glass from her hand. "I'll be fine," he said. "I just got a little overset."

Marina watched him as he drank, the wobble of his Adam's apple under the too pale skin on his throat. He finished drinking and turned to smile at her, no doubt hoping to reassure her, but the red flush across his cheeks and the dark circles around his eyes scared her. His smile made her think of her grandmother's smile, as she had lain of her deathbed, saying her goodbyes to her children and grandchildren.

Before she could stop it, a sob ripped its way from her chest.

"Marina, it will be alright," he reassured her. He put his hand over hers where it sat on the covers, and she clutched at it helplessly.

"I'm scared Philip," she confessed. "I can't lose you now. I need you. I might have killed Celeste when she was a baby, if it weren't for you. I can't go through that again, not alone. You need to get better. I'm scared I will hurt her."

Philip squeezed her hand and wiped her wet cheeks with his other thumb. "You will be a wonderful mother to our next child as well," he told her. She hiccupped,3 tasting salt, and he grinned his crooked grin at her. "Also, I would like to live for my own sake as well. Maybe you could be less selfish about this."

"Don't make me laugh at a moment like this!" Marina snapped at her, hitting his arm.

"Ow! Don't punch a dying man!"