"Duke and duchess Chamberlain. Why were we summoned here?" Dressed nicely, they eased into the chair before the constable's desk.

"Last night, at approximately ten o'clock, your son decided to jump from the bridge."

A gasp left duchess Chamberlain. One even left her husband.

"He jumped?"

"Well, no, he...fell."

The duchess broke out in tears, hands at her mouth. Her husband gave her a handkerchief and she dabbed her eyes before sitting up.

"So that's it then?" she demanded. "That is the thanks we get for all we've put up with? Did we at least get a note? Some warning? Anything?"

Arms around his wife, the duke shook his head. "We should have guessed he'd try something like this." He hove a sigh and said, "I'd expected him to make the grand overdone attempt but not to have the guts to follow through. But even that he got wrong. He...fell you say? Actually fell? Like an idiot?"

"Well," the constable, a heavyset man with a thick mustache and salt and pepper hair, affirmed, "he did have a suicide note. On his person. How he planned to deliver it, who knows."

The duke scoffed. "Of course he did."

Hands shaking, the duchess retrieved the paper offered to her and sniffed against her husband's neck.

She finally sat up. "He spelled 'machinations' wrong. And the nerve. He forgives me for my machinations? Those 'said' machinations were on his behalf! Oh, he need not have fallen. At this moment, I'd rather have been the one to give him a push."

The constable nodded, agreeing, "Yes, such an ungrateful child. I pray you have a few more, ones more apt at taking responsibility for their impropriety at least."

"We have a daughter," the duchess attested.

"Well, that will make it easier. As far as we understand it, your son, having impregnated his mistress, attempted to end it rather than face the music. Such a despicable cad, I'm sorry to say."

"Oi! I'm sitting right here." My head still throbbed so I decided against raising my voice. "And fell? You mean before or after one of your officers clubbed me in the head?"

The constable sat back. "It was a desperate situation. Or officer was a hero. He only acted when your son told his mistress, we'll jump together."

Hand still holding a cloth against the right side of my head, I corrected him, "I'd said, would it be more romantic if we jumped together. And that was said bitterly. And she's not my mistress."

Beside me, my non mistress rested in a chair, stoic, eyes forward, shedding pearl after pearl of thick tears.

The sight of it frightened yet mesmerized me all at once.

"It's a very sad situation," the constable said, "and far too frequent."

It was when he called the governess by name that I had to sit up and correct him.

All eyes settled on me.

The constable sighed and explained, "He keeps insisting she's getting married. But each time we ask her about it, she simply cries harder."

"Ah," the duke interrupted, "that is a bit harder to explain. Are they...are they free to go?"

The constable sat back. "I don't know if I can do that in good conscience, sir. Now, there aren't many good jobs for writers, that is true. But—"

"Writer?" the duke interrupted, "is that what he'd listed as his occupation? Good sir, please return him to that bridge and fling him as far as your power allows."

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"William!" Mother protested. She turned to the constable and entreated, "A simple shove will suffice."

I let out a groan.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one displeased. The constable looked between them. "This is a serious thing. It's heartbreaking to see a beautiful young woman such as this ready to throw herself from a bridge and obviously for being promised marriage and receiving none. I will enact justice upon her today if none of you do right by her."

My parents sobered up and began to bargain in earnest. I didn't pay them much mind until I heard the governess's name repeated again and again. The wrong name.

I waited for the back and forth to end and then it came to me. This wasn't about me. I swiveled my head around to focus on the governess, still in her gorgeous blue wedding dress, shivering with each cry.

"Now, look here. He promised her nothing—"

"And yet he's dressed to the nines and has purchased her a dress for the occasion!" the constable countered. "And the fact that neither you take this seriously does not sit well with me. What of this woman? What of this unplanned child? What is to become of her? You care so little for an affair that apparently happened under your own roof!"

"Mistress? Affair? Don't be daft. That is not what's happened at all. She fainted before saying her vows."

"And my son had left long before that," Mother added, coming to my rescue. I also hadn't bought her anything—she'd made that dress apparently.

The mustache twitched as the constable ground his teeth and they shut up.

"Had you given them your blessing for marriage?"

"You are not listening," my father shouted. "Go clean your ears if that'll help."

"Had you!"

"Of course not!"

"Then a suicided son was more respectable than a daughter-in-law of modest means?"

As the heated discussion picked up, my eyes gravitated to the governess yet again. My stomach dropped. She hadn't seen me when she'd made her decision tonight. It was only luck that I'd happened to her at that very moment. Thoughts rushed me and I shuddered as I doubled over at the thought that she would have jumped. She was brave enough to. And if not, a fit would have helped her the rest of the way.

I made a sound, but it wasn't from a cry or anything of that nature. A wave of dread took me.

Half laughter, half crying, I let out that noise again.

Perhaps that was why my mother looked between us then said to my father, "It's best if we don't hide it any longer, dear. It's not right."

"What? Have you lost your mind, too? Hide what? There is nothing."

She abandoned him and turned to the constable. "We expect the utmost discretion."

The constable nodded, sounding relieved. "Good that you all are coming clean."

"This is preposterous. This is daft!" The duke stood but didn't get far.

"I admit it," I said, still doubled over, fighting back my own panic fit, "I got her in trouble and tried to pawn her off."

All eyes gravitated to me but my father warned, "Mason...."

The eerie stillness to follow came with the constable's chair moving back. He stomped toward me, gut hanging over his belt, and said, "I am a former sea captain myself. If it's all the same, I should like to officiate it before setting you on your way."

He said it with a threat but I could hardly accept. The governess couldn't go through with the first attempt at marriage. Should her heart truly be against it, this attempt would mean nothing.

I was silent, but not for the reason he expected.

Finally, the constable turned to my father. "Imagine this was your own daughter. You'd want us to do the right thing then as well, sir, wouldn't you?"

Still scowling, my father looked from me to the governess and asked the constable, "What'll it cost me?"

The man shrugged, "Oh, no more than the price of a loaf of bread."

"I've spent too much on this nonsense already. Make it half a loaf."

After a long pause, the officer agreed. "Why not? I've been meaning to cut back."

Chaos erupted around us shortly after. I wanted to check on the governess but I dared not move. When instructed to stand, neither of us could find the power to comply.

Eventually, the constable declared, "You're probably still quite exhausted ma'am. I understand."

He yanked me up by my collar and began his well-practiced speech. This one did not hold the world love, but rather 'responsibility.'

Oh, the irony.

But I straightened up and when he said my name and asked if I accepted this marriage, I hesitated.

I could stop now and not embarrass myself with standing here beside a woman who wouldn't stand for me.

Eyes cast low, I nodded.

"It must be said verbally, and clearly," he growled.

"I do." My voice cracked.

I felt sick. My nerves turned my stomach inside out. The room began to dim and I blacked out momentarily.

A firm slap on the back brought me back. I blinked and regained consciousness to find gentle applause all around from the other officers in attendance.

Though confused, I stood before the constable, trembling.

"Sign here, and here," he instructed.

I heard nothing, perceived nothing. Suddenly when I looked down, my signature had magically appeared where he'd demanded. He walked past me with the ledger and then returned. A beautifully written name now accompanied mine.

My eyes couldn't leave it. Not as the constable told me off about being a lowlife, and how someone of my breeding shouldn't abuse that by beguiling innocent women to their ruin. And about how I should make a proper effort and that he'd personally fight all attempts at divorce between us.

When he was done, I finally picked my head up and asked him, "Wait. What has just happened?"