The Edge

My unfailing love for you will not be shaken.

Who had chosen that verse? It sounded unlike my husband. Who else could have chosen it? I did not know but who ever it was, they had chosen well. It marked my sentiments entirely.

I thought on this back up in my room, beside the wide window. I wanted to look out at the world, at the view which I would soon leave forever, God willing. I let my hands be busy over my work and my thoughts be busy over the words on my son's grave and on whether the letter would reach Daniel that night. Mrs Evans was out of the room currently and I was sorely in want of something to take my mind from my own troubles.

I must be ready to leave soon. What must I do before that time? Chose which trinkets to bring with me, burn Bess's old diary’s, somehow find a way to gather her daughter's remains for reburial in Cornwall. And I must say farewell to Bess herself.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts which crowded me at this point, I decided to try the easiest of these tasks that day. I would chose the keepsakes and get the diary’s burnt.

The books were kept in the false bottom of the wardrobe and I took advantage of Mrs Evans absence to get these out. There were numbered around thirty, each identical to the next but apparently stored in order of date. They each had a mottled crimson covers in soft leather, embossed in black with the crest first of Bess's own family then of the Llewellyns. The crest of Bess's family was a lion crowned by a star, the Llewellyn's was a formal coat of arms with three stag's heads on a shield topped with a coronet.

Taking out the first of the volumes I opened it at random, near the middle.

“...my lessons. I know not why I should care so little for but all I know is that I do care little. Arithmetic is not for me. I will have a housekeeper and a steward, they shall be the guardians of my money! What need have I of arithmetic? Yet here is dear Mrs Alger, set on forcing me to mind my lessons and so I sit for hours utterly dumbfounded.”

I turned a few pages and read on.

“Papa is finally home from his voyage! He had to stop some time longer for fierce storms were raging at the Cape. He brings with him many gifts as usual, more than usual in fact. He arrived at noon in time for luncheon and so lessons were broken off for the day. Dearest Mama insisted that we let Papa rest but he was so jolly that we begged for a few games at cards and he indulged us! Then after cards and luncheon, talking for hours about what he had seen and then presents!

He brought us word of Grandfather and Grandmother in Italy. They do well, send their love and some little presents of fine fabrics and books. Mama was sent a special letter from Grandmother which she tucked into her pocket to read later. Papa said that he is happy with the merchandise that he has acquired from Egypt and told us of seeing much of sand but not of pyramids. He sailed from thence and stopped at Turkey and then rounded the coast of Italy and stopped to see our family there. From there he journeyed to Tunisia and Morocco then rounded the Cape and up the coast of Spain and France!

Next, the presents! I received a beautiful dress from my grandparents, in a rich brocade of deep pink trimmed with silver and Venetian lace! It is so lovely, I think I shall wear it to the Logan's dance next month. From Papa, I have a pretty little black wood stool from Morocco, along with some lovely silver and jewelled bracelets. He also gave me a pretty carved box from Turkey containing a little vial of rosewater. He told me that Turkish roses are the best in the world. I am wearing the rosewater now...”

I flipped onwards.

“...could not understand it. He is someone Papa knows through his business but he has not been to the house before. I think that he must have been to dinner with Mama and Papa though, for she greeted him as if she knew him well and then pushed me forward as if I were a prize goose being shown at the market! He was perfectly courteous but I think him too old.”

This must be Lord Richard! She had to be talking of when they had first met. I read on.

“Lord Llewellyn came to dinner again today. Mama came to tell me so this morning and she was most particular about my wearing my best gown. We looked through them together and she picked out the new one from my grandparents. At dinner, I was seated beside our guest and I felt so nervous that I could scarcely eat a thing. He made me nervous, not by anything he said so much as how he looked at me and how my parents looked at us both. I believe a match is being made for me.”

A page on.

“I was right! Mama and Papa called me to the sitting room this morning and informed me that Lord Richard Llewellyn had asked for my hand and Papa had given his consent. I am afraid that I distressed them both by starting to cry. I was overwhelmed and I refused to stay in the room but ran up to my own bed chamber and locked the door. I am there now. What should I do? Lord Richard is wealthy, a friend of my father and not bad looking. But he is so old! He looks so cold and hard. What should I do? What should I do?”

A few more pages onwards.

“I gave my reply to Papa today that I will obey and marry Lord Richard. Mama was so proud when I agreed. She has been so kind in her guidance. She and Papa kissed me and told me I was their angel for being so good. They told me he will give me beautiful strong children, that he will be faithful, that he has a wonderful home in Wales which is close enough so I can come to visit them. I hope they are right. I must try to love him. I must let my parents wishes guide me.”

I put the volume down. If only Bess had followed her own instinct! Oh how different it would have been. I turned on a few more pages. I was near the end of this volume now.

“I have seen the dressmaker and she measured me for my wedding dress today. She told me I have the smallest little waist for a shapely girl that she has ever seen! Then she made some comments which made her assistant giggle and my faithful Mrs Alger blush. I did not understand them. I know nothing of what a wife must do for her husband when they are alone. I know nothing of being a wife beyond running the servants and that I must bare him children. I asked Mrs Alger about wifely duties once the others had gone and she blushed again and said she would tell me closer to the wedding. Not so long to wait, only three weeks.”

On two pages.

“My dress is finished and my trousseau is sewn. All is ready. The cards for my new life are arrived, the church is booked and in two days I am to become Lady Llewellyn and leave my parents house. I have spent only a few hours alone with my husband, mostly while out walking with Mrs Alger a few steps behind so that we are chaperoned. I am glad she has been there but I still feel as though I knew nothing of my husband to be. He told me of his home, it does sound lovely. He talks of religion, of countries and has told me of his former desire to join the priesthood. He talks of current events, he tells me I look pretty. He never tells me of his love or his thoughts nor do his eyes soften. I pray that he will not be so cold once we are married.”

A page on.

“Mrs Alger told me today of wifely duties. She blushed all through and when she was done, I still felt all confused. I hope that my husband understands matters a little better. Mrs Alger’s report of seeds and pods and suchlike does not seem to bare any resemblance to reality. I know that I must be naked and that he will want to touch me. I know that he will enter me and that I must submit. I know it is likely to be painful the first time, that I might bleed. It all seems very frightening. I hope my husband will be gentle. I do indeed.”

I was unable to read any more. The words of the innocent girl, betraying in each line her youth and her purity and her fear of what was to come, those words touched me deeply and stopped me reading on. I did not want to find out how her illusions had been shattered and how hope had failed her. It was too much, I could not do it. What right had I to be so fearful when she had suffered so much more? I would burn these books and then no one else could be hurt by the painful words of a woman whose life had been utterly crushed by the brutality of her husband. I quickly gathered up the books and took them over to the bedroom fire which was blazing brightly. I ripped the pages from the covers and threw them in handfuls onto the flames. It took me almost twenty minutes but n the end I had a pile of empty covers and a smouldering grate of ashes. I put the covers back into their little hidden spot.

I was just in time for footsteps were coming up the stairs and I closed the wardrobe doors in a hurry, banging my head against the heavy wood in my haste. Mrs Evans entered to find me seated on the floor holding my temple. For once she looked surprised and I informed her that I had been clumsy. She assisted me to rise and surveyed me doubtfully. I had decided that she had no idea of what to do in a genuine case of illness of accident. After a pause she said that I should sit quietly and be mindful of any headaches.

I sat back in the window and was about to take up my work when I saw my husband on his horse arriving home. He rode up to the front of the house and I heard the far away doors open and shut. I sighed and thought heavily that it was unlikely that I would ever be able to talk properly with Michael and that we were hardly likely to ever speak much again. It was a sobering thought. The man who I had given myself to with such hope and desire was now the man of all others who I could not love. What would he do when I was gone? He would find me, more than likely but could he make me come back without raising a scandal about his treatment of me? Would he care enough to do so? I thought it unlikely. He clearly had no further use for me. However I was his wife and therefore his property in the eyes of the law and of society. I was legally his and he was bound to do with me as he wished, short of killing me. He could send me away himself but running was my only option. Once I was away from him, the threat of exposure might keep him silent and make him allow me my freedom on certain terms. He might even wish to be rid of me entirely.

What would he do then? An annulment, if it were possible? Were there grounds for it? I thought hard and tried to remember my scant knowledge of the legality of marriage. I could not see that an annulment would be possible under English law. Divorce was unthinkable, expensive and the only way to acquire one was to prove.......to prove that one of us had committed adultery!

I was frozen with the shock of that thought. If Michael knew of my sin then he could divorce me. I would be an unclean woman, dead to society and dead to all who would want to be near me. My child would be taken away. Daniel would be ostracised, cast out. We would not be able to stay in the British Isles! No, no, I must not think it. He could not find out, there was no chance of it.

I made myself relax, made my breathing become even. I must be calm. In my belly, my baby kicked and moved. I placed a hand on it and rubbed at the roundness there. I made myself be calm.

A noise from outside made me look up. A trap was approaching up the drive, it was the one used by the servants. I pulled up and I saw the figure of Mrs Levin step out. She must have just returned from my errand! Had she got the letter to Daniel? I was unable to sit still, I got up and walked about the room, pretending that the baby's movements were making me agitated.

I must get away and soon. Once away I could tell Michael that I would make no further demands on him if he agreed to have our marriage annulled or put aside. His recent cruelty in locking me up would be my bargaining tool. The law still protected women from cruelty and it was all I had to use against him.

All at once I heard a shouting from below and there were sounds of thumps, of running feet and the shouting came nearer. It was Michael and he was coming upstairs in a fearful rage. I heard someone, a man but I knew not whom, trying to reason with him calmly but he cursed and I heard sounds of a scuffle then his feet were on the stairs and then outside my door. This burst open to reveal him still in his riding clothes, carrying his horse whip in one hand and a letter in the other. He bellowed at Mrs Evans to get out and take herself downstairs, to see that no one came up while he was with me. She fairly ran out of the room, shooting me a frightened and genuinely apprehensive glance. She clearly knew nothing of what had put him in such a rage.

Alone with my husband I actually wished to have Mrs Evans back again. His face was red with fury, his eyes were wide and wild, he was shaking from head to foot from his emotion! He slammed shut my bedroom door and turned the key. With no way of escape I faced him, he was like a mad dog. He terrified me. He lifted up the letter in his hand and his words made me more terrified still.

“What have you been doing, you evil whore? What s the meaning of this letter?” I could not see it and I went forward to try and take it but he grasped me by the hair and threw me onto the carpet, twisting my head so that I was forced onto my hands and knees before him. He dropped the paper onto the floor and pushed me up against it so that I could barely focus on the words. I could only see one sentence clearly.

“With all my love, Stephen”.