For every happiness, God gives unhappiness. As if each pleasure must be paid for. The more pleasure taken, the more punishment received. She tells me she is happy with the ratio of time with just her and the children and occasional visitors against the time he is home and is, as she says, demanding. I wonder how she can suffer it. Any time my face reveals my true thoughts – why on God’s Earth did you marry him? – she tuts at me and says I know, I know, I should have listened to you and John. Then she looks at the three children and we both realise they are worth every suffering a person could endure.

Another few weeks pass and I feel settled, ready to stay for a long time, perhaps forever. I have my room set up as I like it with items from home, and more of my clothes have arrived from Crow Nest and some of my books for Elizabeth. We spoil ourselves and buy a copy of a book each, so we can read them at the same time and pause and comment and discuss each chapter. We are inseparable. She is my best friend, and how I could ever be apart from her again I do not know. I will stay here and be part of their lives and watch these children grow, even if it means having to stand by when Sutherland strides in and, as Elizabeth says, asserts that he is the man of the house.

He is home again. He does not like me. He tries to belittle me in front of the children, far too young to care, but it hurts me. I wonder what it will be like when they are older? Will they agree with their father that I am meek and should have wed and am, as he says, selfish to sit on a fortune and not share it with a worthy man and children of my own? I spend some of it on Elizabeth and the children in secret. We tell him all the new books, threads and matching shawls were mine already, but one day he sees a bill in amongst Elizabeth’s letters which he opens and reads and shouts at us both as if we are mere children. I say it is my money to spend as I choose and he throws one of the books, which I was only halfway through reading, into the fire. I notice he is wearing a new waistcoat and in a moment of boldness comment that we have our books from my half of the Walker estate whilst he has his waistcoat from Elizabeth’s. I can see him boil inside and without a word he seizes Elizabeth roughly and takes her upstairs. I sit and wait anxiously with the children for what seems like a lifetime for her to return.