My sister married but I detest her husband. He looks down upon me, as if I am always in the way. He knows that if I were to die then he would get the entire estate. Poor Elizabeth thought she had married well, but he soon showed his true colours. They barely spend any time together now and he gives her a meagre allowance from her own money, which she handed over to him when she took her vows. Why would I ever seek to do the same? I could not bear to hand over the freedom I now have to a man and be forever dependent on his charity and good favour. Like Elizabeth, I would be expected to produce children, the very thought of which horrifies me. I worry that my body would never cope with such pressures. Some days it hurts me just to stand as my back is so fragile, I feel so weak. I saw my cousin grow so big she could barely walk! I’ve heard the screams of childbirth and no descriptions of it as a miracle could encourage me to endure such pain. I’ve seen the exhausted faces of new mothers, seen them with screaming creatures in their arms who then grow to run around with no concern for their poor mother, who loses her figure, her health and her very self by enduring to produce them.

Yet just a short while past I agreed to do just that. I shall not think of him too much or I shall begin to weep. I am grateful to my aunt for making me leave the house with her to help take my mind off things. I shall think of Miss Lister instead and focus on contriving a way to meet her again without our families present. I will suggest a walk together.

A small part of me thinks perhaps I am playing with fire, but I have been burned before and survived.

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Summer, 1832: An interfering aunt
and secret kisses

Miss Lister