I owed Mother a proper birthday present next year, I decided. Though I was unsure of the date, I knew it was some time in March.

She rescued us, all of us. Because Father stepped out onto the street after the blessed event, fit to burn the whole town down. He was in a temper and I, embarrassed by his behavior, was in one as well.

Mother, the governess safely tucked at her side, descended the steps and ignored my father's shouts to not put her into the carriage.

It took another ten minutes for him to calm enough to enter it. I was the last to go in, as I felt responsible for everyone's misery. Deep down I knew, the governess had agreed to our marriage due to the pressure and embarrassment. Perhaps she even did it for my sake—that constable was more than ready to label me a liar, a cad, and an attempted murderer.

Whatever the reason, I held my proof of marriage firmly in both hands. The paper was too important to fold but I feared Father's fury's provocation at the sight of it, so I made it neat and tucked it into my inner pocket.

I climbed into that carriage and the silence was so sterile that more than once, when we got in a good trot, I had to will myself not to jump out and take my chances with the wilderness.

The governess sat close to the window, my mother's arms safely around her. That should have been me comforting her but I dared not make the attempt.

Had I done this? If I was at that wedding, I could have calmed her, I knew how now. I could have helped her make the attempt yet again. We could have managed it together. Instead, she'd fainted, her frog groom hopped away in a rage, and she'd wandered the streets all day thinking of what to do.

The little job she'd secured at his printing press was at an end, she'd known. And she hadn't gone back to stay at her sister's as I'd suspected she now lived up until the day of marriage. If the woman struggling with two babies at the chapel, with no help from her drunkard looking husband was any indication, another mouth to feed didn't interest her.

So that left...the bridge?

As opposed to going back to her mother and suffering that disgrace and torture? I couldn't blame her.

But now as we rode, I felt proud yet ashamed all at once.

This was a mess. After an hour, we arrived home and Father immediately announced, "I will send for the lawyer and get it annulled."

He jumped from the now parked carriage and moments later, the front door of the manor slammed.

My mother didn't meet eyes with me, though she did rub the governess's back and shoulders before giving her a final pat and slipping out as well.

Then there was just the two of us. My new wife still faced the window.

Father's reaction, though harsh, was understandable and I wanted to explain it. I'd thought to, but what was the point? The governess knew us better than anyone.

I regretted the situation, regretted how this came about, and regretted even more that I'd annul it over my dead body.

If she'd suggest it, I'd have no choice so I left her in the carriage before she got the chance to utter those words that would undo me.

Entering the house was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

Mother waited in the foyer, but Father's curses carried. "It's better if you talk to him," she muttered.

But after I took the long march down the hall and into the family room, there was no talking to him, only listening. And on his part...screaming.

Stolen novel; please report.

"You walked into it! You walked right into this like an addled child."

"Keep your voice down," I begged. There was nothing else left. I had no drive in me to make demands or my usual threats. He'd hurt me with his words.

"My voice down?" He screamed even louder, "You're lucky to still be alive."

He paused long enough to catch his breath, huffing and puffing. The next words to leave his lips regarding my new wife were so terrible that I'd rather have had the yelling.

I pretended not to hear them.

"We'll get it annulled," he said at length. "Immediately."

"You'd never asked." I picked my head up and stared him down. "Not once. Not once have you ever asked if she was really my lover and really conceived my child!"

Father leaned away, appalled. "Well, of course not. You're not that stupid."

"Then why don't you believe me now!" The quiver in my voice was why I spoke softer. "She hadn't planned this. She hadn't wanted this, and she's not some opportunist."

But the gleam in his gaze told me no words I'd said tonight mattered, nor would they. To him, she was a clever social climber who situated herself safely in their crawl, seduced their only son, and secured a position for herself that was unmovable. All at great cost to this family.

He hated her.

And for that, I hated him.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you, Father?"

The twitch of his eye told me to shut up, even my mother taking a step forward advised me against it, but I couldn't.

"I see a psychopath. Because I'm a psychopath. My best friend, my cousin, nearly ruined her in a way only a man can, in public, in the open, with not a care in the world. And he's a psychopath. And the woman I once set my heart to marry, having been aware of that very danger, all but gloated when I'd uncovered it. Because she's a psychopath. And I kept the governess here against her will without a second of hesitation, because I'm a blasted psychopath as well. So if I'm surrounded by such people, and I'm one of them, then so are you."

His left eye twitched but I wasn't finished.

"That's why you can't forgive her. And that's why you can't see past any of this. And that, that very reason, is why I no longer care what you think of me or my wife."

Much like a white-faced kettle coming to a boil, he spouted, "Get out."

The words didn't shock me.

Mother gasped. "William!"

"Leave since we're so awful! Leave the psychopaths, you ignoramus. Leave then!"

I stared at him long and hard, not for any fear or doubt, but to remind myself of what I refused to become. My father wasn't a terrible man, but if he could see a woman in such genuine distress and think her a crook even now, then his view on life was far too skewed to be honorable.

No. I'd leave these people and the sickness they called nobility.

When I turned to make my way out, mother let out a sound then ran after me. "At least take some things. Some clothes. I have money—"

"Give him nothing!" Father bellowed.

I turned and shouted back, "I'd want nothing from the likes of you!"

He thundered towards me but Mother shoved me out the door and closed it just before he reached us. Outside, I marched to the carriage, praying my bride hadn't run off.

Still in the position which I'd left her, she stared out the window opposite me.

I thought to use her name to call her but it didn't seem right. Finally, I said, "Governess?"

She didn't move.

We needed to go. And at this rate, we'd have to walk.

I circled around the other side and took my time opening the door.

She still stared through me but I needed her help if we were to get back into town before nightfall.

When I touched her face, stroking the birthmark on her cheek, a tear slid down, trailing the path of my fingertips.

"Poppy," I whispered, praying she'd at least answer.

Her eyes settled on me and I let out a held breath.

"What do you want to do?" I asked her.

After a long pause, she affirmed, "We can annul it."

Anger surged through me but that would do us little good at the moment.

"No. What do you want to do?"

Her lips parted then closed and I waited only a moment more before I took her by the hand and helped her down.

"We'll have to walk," I confessed.

She nodded and we circled the carriage.

A horse met me. Then another.

Mother hurried to shove the reigns in our hands. That wasn't all, she carried money which she tried to offer.

The horses were already too much so I refused. "No. He won't forgive you for the horses as is."

Eyes red and raw, she looked between us. "But what will you do for the night? What will you do from now on?"

I didn't know. Because I had no answer, I helped the governess mount the sidesaddle and I gave my mother a kiss on the forehead before mounting my horse as well.

My only mistake was looking at the second-floor window to see Lana watching us in worry.

I waved at her and wore a genuine smile when I yelled, "We got married!"

The fear on her face remained for a long time before it faded little by little into a look of agreement.

After giving my worried mother a firm bow, I slapped the governess's horse and it took off. I followed closely after.