⚘thirteen⚘

The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes. Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding. Reason unknown. Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors.

Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits. Will there be hardship or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell... Time, and, as always, this author.

It seems that in the few moments I was alone with Benedict Penelope had found Marina passed out on the floor of her room. I head with Penelope to check on her.

Penelope knocks on the door. "Marina?"

"Pen, come in," Marina tells her.

Penelope opens the door and Marina is not in bed as she

"Wh... What are you doing? Mama said you must rest," Penelope reminds Marina.

"I am already feeling much improved," Marina tells her.

"Marina..." Penelope starts.

"What? Penelope, I assure you I am well. That tea has accomplished what I needed it to. And now, with the season over... I can finally go home," Marina tells us.

"So that means you are no longer..." I trail off.

"With child? I would have felt something by now, I am certain," marina assures.

"You caused quite a flutter," Penelope tells her.

"That was not my intention. But I am sorry for everything I have done and said. You were right about Colin. He is a good man with a good heart. You were very good to him. I am certain one day he will see it," Marina says.

I can hear a carriage outside. "That is odd. We weren't expecting any callers today." Marina's face falls as she looks out the window. "Marina? Are you quite well?"

Penelope and I sit with a broken Marina on the couch. Her caller was anything but welcome. It is not Sir George but his brother with horrible news.

Aunt Featherington and Daphne walk into the parlor.

"Mr Crane, how delightful to make your acquaintance. I had no idea a soldier such as yourself was coming to town. And, well, Miss Thompson has not received any correspondence from you in quite some time," Aunt Featherington says.

"Nor would I have expected her to, my lady," Mr Crane states.

"I beg your pardon?" Aunt Featherington questions.

"That man is not who you believe him to be, Lady Featherington. It is not George, but his brother, Sir Phillip," Marina tells her.

"I have come bearing grim news today. My brother George died on the battlefield... several weeks ago, and, uh..." Mr Crane starts.

Marina gets up and walks out of the room. Daphne and I both follow after her.

"Marina?" I ask.

"Marina, please, wait," Daphne says.

Marina stops walking and turns to face us. "He was writing to me... George... to tell me he loved me... to tell me we could run away together and marry and have our child. Sir Phillip found this half-written letter amongst George's belongings after he, um... If it were not for your recent inquiries, Sir Phillip never would have known I was here, and I never would have known George... He loved me." Marina starts to cry. "All this time, he loved me. I thought him a villain, but he was not." Marina takes a deep breath. "He had a perfectly reasonable explanation for not writing back to me. And I was wrong." Marina walks away heading up to her room.

"I cannot imagine what she is going through," I admit.

"Her heart is broken," Daphne states. I nod my head. "I should be off. I still have much to attend to for the ball."

"I shall see you there," I tell her.

"I almost forgot. I invited your cousins and Lady Featherington," Daphne tells me. "I hope that Lady Whistledown may take note and stop writing such horrible things about your family."

I nod my head. "Thank you."

"Our credit at the modiste, it is still rather precarious. As in, it is nonexistent, Mrs Varley tells Aunt Featherington.

I follow behind the two down the stairs.

"The young ladies will just have to wear something they've worn before," Aunt Featherington states.

"Before?" Prudence asks. "Mama, I would rather not attend."

"Can one even wear a dress worn before?" Philipa asks.

As we walk into the parlor I spot Mr Crane standing there.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but it seems my business here is not quite finished. I would very much like to speak to Miss Thompson. I have a question for her," Mr Crane explains.

Mrs Varley runs to fetch Marina.

"Marry you?" Marina asks. "I do not understand."

"After my brother clearly took liberties with your... virtue... I would merely be doing my duty," Mr Crane explains.

Aunt Featherington gasps. "A respectable marriage! Miss Thompson! What a fine thing. Sir Phillip inherited the Crane title. He has a perfectly adequate estate to support you and perhaps your distant cousins too."

"I cannot. I do not know this man. I do not love this man. I cannot marry this man," Marina insists.

"George cared for you very much, Miss Thompson, and that will never change, but he would have wanted you to be looked after. He would have wanted you to be supported. Allow me to realize my late brother's wishes," Mr Crane says.

"I thank you for your offer, Sir Phillip, but I believe you should now take your leave," Marina tells him.

"Very well. I wish you all the best, Miss Thompson," Mr Crane tells her before leaving.

"What have you done? That was a perfectly acceptable proposal," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"I am no longer with child, Lady Featherington, so it is neither necessary, nor acceptable, for me to participate in any more unwanted arrangements or disingenuous schemes," Marina tells her.

Madame Delacroix is delivering our dresses for Daphne's ball.

Aunt Featherington gasps. "Oh! Astonishing, Madame Delacroix!"

"Because you were able to pay in advance this time, and since I happened to have some fabrics no one else seemed to want... There are two others just like it, Lady Featherington," Madame Delacroix tells her.

"Mine will have to be taken in, of course," Prudence says.

"Mine's perfect," Philipa states.

"And mine is yellow," Penelope says.

"You see, young ladies, everything works out in the end. And Philipa, perhaps Mr. Finch might even reconsider his proposal, now that, um, you have your dowry again," Aunt Featherington offers.

"Again?" Philipa asks. "Well, did I lose it somewhere the first time?"

I hear a plate shatter in the hallway. I make my way out with Aunt Featherington and see Marina staging there.

"Miss Thompson? What is it?" Aunt Featherington asks.

"I believe I need a doctor," Marina tells her.

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A/N So I have a new Remus Lupin story up called Sky Above and like I just really like what I wrote so if you like Harry Potter why not give it a shot

And I'm updating again because I really just like seeing all the nice comments you guys leave it just makes my day :)

Next chapter is the last and a lot of stuff goes down to make up for the lack of Benedict in this chapter but we needed this chapter to see some things through