A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 31: Mary

Sewing always brought me such tranquility. There was something about taking a plain piece of cloth and seeing what it could become, cutting and stitching until it was something new. Sometimes Mildred Farthingstone, the vicar's eldest daughter would wander down from the village and we would sit together doing fancy work, but often I was alone. My industriousness amused Fred, who would sometimes sit and watch me sew, endeavouring to distract me from my work.

"What a busy worker bee you are today," he said.

"I want to finish these before the baby arrives," I said.

"How many Ladies of the Manor work so hard to make baby clothes for their tenants?"

"I feel sorry for Mrs White," I said, finishing a hem. "I think that tenant farming is hard work and her husband is a drunk."

"Oh White isn't a really a drunk," he said. "Only on market day."

"She's so young and seems lonely," I said, folding the baby gown and picking up the bonnet. "All her family live in the North of England."

"Well, she is lucky she has you to make her all these baby clothes," he said. "Although I wish you were making them for a different baby."

I looked at him with surprise and he smiled sheepishly.

"Don't you think it is about time?" he asked. "It could add to our joy."

I smoothed the baby gown on my lap, admiring the tiny pleats. In my heart, I wanted my own child, to love and nurture. A child that Fred and I could raise, with our virtues and our flaws.

But my flaws were deep. What if I carried the same darkness as my mother? What if our child was tainted with madness.

"What are you afraid of?" Fred said, reaching out for me. "Tell me and I will make it better."

"I am afraid I will not be the mother I want to be," I said.

Fred grinned and kissed my cheek, easy in his ignorance of my heritage.

"You will be the best of mothers."

"What if I am not? What if I am like..."

I could not finish my sentence, I could not speak of Her. My mother, the madwoman. The shame I felt, the fear I felt.

"Like what, Mary?" Fred watched me keenly, waiting to spill my secrets.

Not this one. I would rather die in the dark, cold water than tell this secret.

"It doesn't matter," I said, turning my face away. "This is not something I want to talk about."

Fred watched me in silence, two fingers on his lips and a slight frown on his brow.

"Is this to do with the Mordaunts?"

"No."

"You never told me why Harriet visited last week."

"I didn't trust you," I said. "After what you did to Mr Mordaunt, I can't trust you with any secret."

"Don't do this again, Mary."

"Do what?"

"If you think that you can close yourself off from me again, you can think again."

His voice was not angry, but firm and determined. Fred moved closer, pulled me to my feet and kissed me hard.

"Remember, we love each other," he said. "That's all that matters in this world."

Softly, he stroked my cheek.