1 January 1642
My husband still doesn't know I snuck out, but I'm so nervous he might find out. He'd be so angry. He's been tense and easily upset lately, and I don't know when he'll next lose his temper. I want to be understanding, but ever since I saw my sister I've been feeling strange. I've been thinking about what Porrim said-"Is he a man that's mistreating you?" I still don't know the answer. He's my husband, and he's as entitled to be irate and tired and angry as much as I am. I don't want to treat him like his feelings aren't important. The law says he's allowed to hit me if I'm out of line, but I don't think I believe that. My mama taught us that not all laws are fair.
I just don't know.
4 January 1642
He hit me today. I don't know what to say or think or do anymore. Part of me thinks I deserved it, but there are voices in my head-my mama, Porrim, my sister-that aren't so sure.
It started when he told me his father is thinking of raising taxes on the farmers. "We still need to fund various projects and the army," he explained.
"That's a cruel thing to do," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"You know the same farmers I do. They can't afford much more in taxes! Aren't there other ways?"
"I'm not going to ask the barons for money."
"And why not?"
"Because they're noble," he said, as if it were obvious. "They have blood right."
"They can afford to eat more simple food if the country is struggling."
"It would be unfair."
"And it is fair to tax the poor until they starve?"
"Stop this, Meulin. You don't understand how…complex these things are."
"I'm no scholar, but I understand going hungry. I understood that when I was a little noble girl!"
"Then you understand why I don't want to tax the rich until they starve."
"That isn't what I meant!"
"Then what did you mean? That the rich deserve to suffer? You are the rich, now, aren't you?"
"No, not that-I don't want anyone to suffer-I just worry!"
"You worry too much," he scoffed.
"Can't you stop him? Or persuade him to be gentler on the common folk? Please?"
"This isn't your business," he said. "Let me handle it."
"Please, Kurloz. For me, and for our friends."
"I'll handle it."
"How? What will you do?"
"Meulin, I will handle this. You don't have to worry."
"Of course I worry! What if it's too much for my sister? What if my friends go hungry?"
"I said I'll handle it!" he snapped. "Is that so hard to understand?"
"You just don't seem to be very worried," I said.
"How dare you!" he yelled, and he slapped me across the face. He's not fat like I am, but he's grown up with all the food he could need. He isn't weak, and it hurt.
Neither of us seemed to know what to after that. My head was in a whirl and I couldn't get a hold of any one thought long enough to act it. I felt like the animals I hunt. Sometimes when I'm about to make the kill, they freeze solid as ice, as if I'll overlook them if they're very still. If I was very still, perhaps I'd be alright.
"Go to bed," he said, and I did.
It still hurts. I don't know what I'll do if it bruises. I don't bruise all that easily, but when I was small I just fell out of trees and tripped over rocks, and this hurt more than any of that.
7 January 1642
I have no bruises, so no one has asked questions. My husband has hardly looked at me in days. I'm afraid to break the silence, and I don't even know what I'd say if I did. I know he loves me-he must. He had to overcome so much to marry me. Why would he do that if he didn't love me? And I love him, I know I do. He's kind and sweet to me and he's smart and he cares about me. He was there for me when my mother passed. I can't turn my back on him now.
It still hurts. There's no visible bruise but I can feel the heat and pain where he hit me. It feels right that it's invisible.
9 January 1642
My darling bought me a lovely bouquet of flowers today.
"I'm sorry for losing my temper with you," he said.
"It's alright."
"Can you ever forgive me?" His eyes were so big and pleading.
"Of course. I love you. You're forgiven," I said. What else could I say? I've never been very good at holding a grudge.
"Thank you, my dearest," he said, and the tension just fell out of his shoulders. "I know flowers doesn't fix anything, but…they're beautiful. Maybe a tenth as beautiful as you are."
"Thank you. They are lovely."
"I love you," he said, like a vow.
"I love you too."
I put the flowers in my room, on my dresser. They are beautiful, a lovely purple and blue arrangement. They don't smell like much, but that's alright. Not every plant can be my sister's pink peonies, or her red roses.
I hope she brought the blooms inside for the winter.
14 January 1642
He was careful about it, but Kurloz asked again today if I'm pregnant. I tried very hard not to snap at him, and I think I succeeded.
"I'm not, as far as I know."
"Ah. Alright."
"I'm trying, my dear."
"I know you are. I am too. It will happen."
"It will. I'm sure of it."
"And you'll be careful, right? With our baby?"
"I will be. I promise."
It feels a little insulting, sometimes, that he asks so often. I want a baby just as much as he does. Why wouldn't I take good care? It feels almost like he thinks I'm too dim to carry a child.
I know I'm reading too much into this, and he just worries, but I find I'm not often in a charitable mood much, these days.
17 January 1641
I can't stop thinking. My heart tells me that I love my husband, and I have always trusted my heart, but what Porrim said…"Is he a man who mistreats you?" What would that even mean? How should I be treated, and what is it to mistreat me? He's my husband. What could he ever do that would be mistreatment? He hasn't tried to starve me, or stop me from eating. He wants me to eat! It's my own fault that I've been losing weight.
What would I do about it, anyways? If I told him he'd probably be angry, or he'd tell me that it's his right. (By law, it is.) And when he does lose his temper with me, he always apologizes and tries to make things better. What more can I ask? I can't ask him to be perfect. I'm not perfect!
I need to write my friends. How can I, when he watches my mail? I suppose I could deliver them to the messenger boys myself, even address them with my wrong hand. I'd have to instruct them to address replies to someone besides myself, and I'd need to seal them properly so I'd know if they were tampered with.
I'll ask Grace. She takes a lot of my correspondance anyways, so it'll look natural, and I trust her not to open my letters. I just don't know what I'll tell her.
20 January 1642
Today was my darling's birthday. He always insists he doesn't want or need anything special from me, but I still want to do something for him. He's my husband and I love him.
So today I baked him a cake. I know he likes those lovely sponges the chefs make on holidays, so I set my mind to it and made him the best cake I could. I haven't had much practice baking anything but bread-sugar is so expensive-but I think it turned out alright. I have been cooking since I was little.
I brought it up to our room after supper, so it could be just us, and he looked at me with the softest, gentlest eyes. "Meulin, this is wonderful."
"I'm glad you like it."
"You don't have to go out of your way for my birthday."
"It's your day. I want you to feel special."
"You're so sweet," he said with his lovely smile. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
"You didn't have to do anything. I love you."
"I love you too. Here, have some cake. You made it." He smiled again and how could I say no to that? It wasn't as good as what the chefs make, but Kurloz said it was wonderful. He's very sweet-sweeter than the cake, even. I love him so much.
23 January 1642
I told Grace I was organizing a surprise for my husband, so I was going to have some letters sent to her that would be for me.
"A surprise! How lovely," she said with a warm smile.
"I hope he'll like it," I said. I don't like lying.
"Of course I'll help you. Who will the returns be from?"
"My sister, Nepeta Leijon, for the most part. Perhaps Porrim Maryam, Latula Captor…or she might write Pyrope, I don't recall…possibly Horuss Zahhak."
"I don't know these people."
"They're friends from my hometown. They'll know what to do."
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for those names. Shall we start the rest of the correspondence?"
"Yes, let's," I said. "We have plenty to get through!"
She laughed and we set to work.
I hope it works. I'll write something short to my sister tonight and see what happens. If she gets it and writes back, then I know I can talk to her. I'd like to write some of my other friends, too. I think I still trust them.
26 January 1642
I feel like I'm going to burst every time Grace and I sit down with another stack of letters. I gave a short letter asking Kitty about Button and her kittens to one of the delivery boys and told him to take it as quickly as possible. I also told her to make sure it's sealed. I intend to tell my husband I'm worried about someone else opening my mail so if he does open it, he won't be suspicious.
I feel horrible about lying. I just need to be able to talk to someone, without worrying about someone looking over my shoulder the whole time. As soon as I work this out, I'll come clean and send letters the old way. By then it'll be different, and he'll understand. I just need to figure out what to do and what to say to fix this, and it'll be alright again.
I wish I was better at this. Sometimes I think that if I were just enough, if I'd already had a child, if I was a better wife, none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be so angry and I wouldn't be so confused. We'd just be husband and wife, like we used to be. It would all be alright again.
30 January 1642
Grace had a letter for me from my sister today.
"Here you are," she said. "From your sister, I belive."
She'd written her name on the outside of the letter, like I asked her to, and I was trembling as I opened it to read it. It's short, so I'll just leave it between the pages here.
Dear Meulin,
I got your letter. The seal was intact. Why did you ask? Button is doing well. I gave the kittens away. I know Misty is doing well, as Tavros took her. I've seen the other two and they look happy and healthy.
Things are good here for now. It's cold but I have plenty of food. How are you? The letter you wrote me is different from your old ones. Is something wrong? Write back soon.
Love,
Kitty
So it works. I can write to my sister and my friends and ask their help. I know they can help me. I don't want to put too much on Kitty, but I do want to tell her the truth. I can ask Porrim and I think I can ask Horuss and maybe Latula or Aranea. I'll write them tomorrow.
I haven't thought about Horuss in so long. I think I was unfair to him. I should've been kinder. Even if he did like me, or does, he's a good friend. He was always there for Kitty and me, when our mama died and when we were hungry. Kitty said his family helped her after the storm. I'll write him and apologize, although I'm not sure what I'll say. I'm not even sure he'll forgive me, or that he should. I was so rude! My goodness, there's no reason he should be kind to me after I snubbed him like that. Should I even try?
I think I'll try. I can be brave for that long, I think.
4 February 1642
I don't always have much time to myself, but I did today, and so I wrote to my friends. I wasn't sure what to say, or where to start, but I knew I wanted to write to my sister. I wrote her a long letter, telling her everything that's happened for the past year or so. I tried not to include too many details that would worry her, but I'm not sure I trust my perceptions of what's worrisome anymore. I'm not sure I trust my perceptions of much of anything anymore.
I wrote to Porrim, too. I wasn't sure what to say, but I asked her why she asked me if my husband was mistreating me. I asked her what she thought of a few things I've been wondering about, like when my husband slapped me the one time. I hope she writes back soon.
And I wrote to Horuss, too. I was frightened, but I wanted to be brave and at least try. I wrote him apologizing. I told him I was sorry for ignoring him and treating him badly, and that if he wanted to talk again I'd like that, but I understand if he doesn't. We've known each other so long. I know I don't have any grounds to ask his forgiveness, but I just want to talk to him again. I want to talk to someone I trust besides my husband. And I still trust him. I must.
7 February 1642
My husband said he thought I was acting strange today.
"How do you mean, strange?" I asked.
"You've seemed tense," he said kindly. "Jumpy. It's not like you. Is everything alright?"
I nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I suppose I'm still a bit worried about my sister."
"You heard from her not too long ago. She's fine. You worry too much. I could have the doctor bring you more laudanum, if you like."
"No, thank you. I don't like it."
"Why not?"
"It makes me feel strange," I tried. "Like I'm slightly outside of myself."
"That's what it's supposed to do," he pointed out. "It's supposed to help you calm down and feel better. You haven't been very calm lately. I know you don't like it, but would you try some? To put my mind at ease?"
"Alright," I said. "If it will make you feel better."
"Thank you, my love," he said. "Just try it, for a week or so."
"I will."
I still don't like it, but I don't want him to worry. I'll take some tonight before bed and maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
10 February 1642
I got some letters from my friends today, and I can't help but feel a bit silly. I really was making a big deal out of nothing! Horuss said of course he'd speak with me again, and Porrim said she was shocked my husband would hit me but of course she is. Porrim doesn't trust any men-why should that change because I love him? I trust her, but I feel fine. Nothing is wrong. I overreacted. I best write her back and tell her, so she doesn't worry.
Kitty wrote me back, too. She told me all about the people who were staying with her and their new homes, everything that's happened with the Megidos, how Equius is going to school, even about the new pine tree she's growing. I'm glad she's alright. I wrote her back the normal way telling her about how things are fine here, and I'll probably have a baby within the year.
13 February 1642
I felt unwell again today. I hope it means I'm pregnant! If only I could have a child, I'm sure everything would go back to normal. Kurloz is worried because we don't have children; if we have a child, the weight will be off his mind and he can go back to being his normal, happy self.
I'm trying my hardest. I don't know what exactly I can do, besides rest and eat well and drink lots of tea, but I'm trying! I've been praying. I don't pray much, usually, when I'm not in church, but I thought I might as well. I prayed for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby and many more in the future. I hope this baby's a boy, for my love's sake, but I still secretly want a daughter.
I wish I could teach my daughter what my mother taught me. I want that knowledge to be passed on. I suppose it's the only inheritance I have from her. There's the house, of course, but I don't live there anymore. I didn't bring the books. Neither Kitty nor I wear her jewelry or dresses. When I married, I became part of Kurloz's family and I left mine behind. I wish I had something to give my daughter that she could hold as she joined a new family.
17 February 1642
I woke up with the most terrible headache today. My husband was very sweet about it, bringing me tea and offering me medicine for the pain.
"More laudanum, perhaps?"
"No, thank you. It might go away on its own," I said.
"Alright, if you say so. Are you feeling well otherwise? Do you have a fever?"
"No, I'm fine. Come on, we have to go to court, and I'm to work on that tapestry today with my ladies."
"If you're unwell you should stay here and rest."
"I'm really fine."
"What if it doesn't go away on its own, or gets worse?" he asked with his big, worried eyes.
"I am just fine, and I'm not a child."
"No need to shout," he said, curling away. "I just worry."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"How about we go to court, and then you come back and rest instead of doing needlepoint?" he offered.
"Alright," I agreed.
Court was exactly as dull as it always is, and then I went back to our quarters for the afternoon. I didn't have much to do, so I read a book I've already read. There's just not much for me to do. When I'm well I have a million things to do-needlepoint and charity and organizing the servants and planning events and everything else-but when I'm ill (or when my husband feels I'm ill), there's hardly anything I can do. I can't even go the library for new books. It's frustrating.
20 February 1642
I heard from my sister today. She told me she's thinking about if she should get married, and who to. I told her that she should marry someone she loves and trusts who will give her a good, happy life. I don't care if she marries a prince or a peasant; I just want her to be happy.
I hope she doesn't have the same troubles I do with having children. Kitty told me she's never been sure if she wanted children, and if she does decide she wants them I hope it's easier for her than it is for me.
Something feels strange, though, telling my sister I want her to be happy. I don't…I don't often feel very happy, these days. I'm usually tired or worried or irate or even sad. I know I used to be happy more often than I am now. I have fond memories of when my love and I were just getting to know each other, and when our marriage was new, I know we were happy together. I know we can be happy! I know we were! Why can't we be happy now and just fix everything?
Maybe I'll bring it up with my husband. I only want us to be happy-surely he can understand that.
24 February 1642
I tried to talk with Kurloz today, but I don't think it went very well.
"My love?" I asked. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"Of course," he said, setting down his papers and pen. I think he has better penmanship than I do.
"I feel like we're not as happy these days as we used to be. I want us to be happy together and I'd like to talk about that."
He sighed. "Meulin. We can't expect to be happy all the time. You're setting yourself up to be disappointed if you want to be happy all of the time."
"I don't expect to be happy all of the time, but I want to be happy some of the time. I can tell you're not happy."
"I'm busy and I need to have an heir. You can't expect me to be happy."
"I just want you to feel better," I said. "I don't want to see you work yourself to death. In my family we sometimes do that-we don't take care of ourselves and get sick from it. I don't want to see that happen to you."
"I'm fine!" he snapped. "I'm doing better than you are, worrying all the damned time! Can't you see I have work to do?"
"Sorry," I said quietly.
"I have a lot on my plate. Why don't you attend to your own work?"
I nodded and let him do his work. He's just seemed so tense lately, and I know it's my fault. If I could just have a child-a son-this would all go away and it would be better. He wouldn't have to worry and neither would I. He'd have an heir and I'd have a child like I've always wanted. Why can't I just do that? I'm a woman, and a noblewoman at that; I should be able to have a baby! What is wrong with me that I can't?
28 February 1642
I'm really not sure anymore if things are alright in my life. I felt a couple of weeks ago that everything was fine, but then the other day I thought about how little happiness I've had these past few months. I…I'm confused. I love my husband very much. I love him more than I thought I could love. But so much of the time, I feel confused or hurt or stressed, and I wish I could magically will things to be better. How can I be married to the man I love and also not be happy? My mother told us that marriage is not always easy, but when she talked about her husband, she looked like she was glowing. She said the happy times outnumbered the sad ones.
I just don't know. I think I'll write my friends again. I think I need someone else to help me sort through all of this. And I need to write to Kitty again, so she doesn't think I've abandoned her. I did abandon her. I can't let that happen again.
3 March 1642
He brought me flowers today after court and dinner. They were the most lovely roses, and they smelled wonderful.
"I wanted to apologize," he said. "I'm sorry you've been feeling so unhappy lately."
"Thank you," I said. "These are gorgeous."
"Of course. I know you didn't mean to bother me while I was working. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."
"It's quite alright, my dear. We all have our moments."
"Thank you, darling," he said. "I just don't want you to have to worry. You're my wife. I want you to relax and be happy. Let me worry about the hard things. You should be enjoying your leisure time and keeping yourself healthy so you're ready to give birth."
"I'm not an invalid. I want to help."
"I know you do. But you're my wife. I'll manage the men's work. All you have to worry about is being the beautiful, wonderful woman you are."
It was sweet of him to say, but it does make me feel like…like he doesn't respect my intelligence. I'm a grown woman, and I know I'm good at what I do. It sometimes feels like he doesn't think I'm capable, and I am. I don't know how I feel about that.
7 March 1642
I heard from my sister today! She said she and Equius are having a disagreement and she doesn't know what to say to fix it. I told her to tell him how she feels the listen to what he has to say. It's important to communicate in any relationship. I know they'll work it out. My sister is smart, and she's been friends with Equius since forever. She'll be alright.
I wish I was there, though. I can't fix things for her, but I could be there for her. I could remind her that I still love her and she's going to make it through. I shouldn't have left when I did. I should have stayed longer.
12 March 1642
I heard from Porrim today. She sounds very worried. She asked me if I'm alright and if I need anything, and said she'd be there for me if something were to happen. And she asked that question again, the one I haven't been able to stop thinking about-"Is he mistreating you?" I still don't know. He can have a bit of a temper, but don't we all? I can hardly blame him for being human. He's just a man-he'll make mistakes. I don't want him to feel like I'm expecting him to be perfect.
But she also asked another thing-what would I do if someone was treating my sister this way? And if I found out my sister's husband had ever laid hands on her, I'd be furious! Does that mean it's wrong for me too, or does it just mean I'm overprotective of my sister? My head hurts trying to puzzle it all out. I feel like I don't know up from down these days.
I think Porrim wants me to leave him. She said some rather uncomplimentary things about him in her letter. I can't leave him, though. I love him, and I promised him I'd always be by his side. Anyways, who is she to tell me what to do with my life? She's not living here. She's hardly spoken with Kurloz! Who is she to tell me what to do?
15 March 1642
My ladies and I worked on that tapestry again today. I've been embroidering daisies and roses around the edge of the main image, and I think they look alright. Katherine was rather dismissive, but Grace and Magdalena said they were lovely. Grace is still helping me with correspondence with my family and friends, and I think she suspects something is off, but she's too polite to say anything about it.
Ellen is an excellent artist. I think in another world, one where women have opportunities like men do, she could just be an artist. I'd buy her work! All my ladies are so talented, and yet here we are, keeping out of sight. It can feel tremendously unfair. I wanted to change things when I married into this family. I'm not sure I can.
My husband seemed tense today-even more so than usual, I mean. He didn't kiss me in bed and I got the feeling he was hardly even seeing me. His mind seemed a million miles away. Normally we talk a bit before I go back to my bed, but today he just held the door for me and said goodnight. I hope he's alright.
19 March 1642
I don't want to be a nag as a wife, but I worry about my darling. I think he'd be closer to me in the New World than he is right now. I heard him arguing with his father just yesterday, properly yelling at each other. I couldn't tell what it was about-I didn't stay around to hear much more, in case my father-in-law spotted me-but I can't imagine it was anything good. I thought about asking Kurloz, but I doubt it'd help. He'd probably just get angry with me again, and the last thing he needs is more stress in his life. I'll just let him come to me.
I hope Horuss writes back soon. I know he said he wasn't upset with me, but I would feel a lot better if I knew he was telling the truth. I think if we can write friendly letters to each other, I'll know it's alright between us. I think I might need to ask him some advice.
21 March 1642
We've fought before and he's hit me but today he almost killed me. I'm not pregnant and today after we slept together, as he was walking me to the door, he asked again and I said, "Even if I conceived tonight, I wouldn't know for weeks."
"No need to be short."
"I know you need a child, but asking won't make it happen any quicker."
"I wouldn't need to ask if you'd just do your job!"
"I'm doing my best!"
"Your best is clearly not enough!"
I was feeling tired and fed up, so I said, "Maybe it's your fault! You can't keep blaming me-it takes two!"
"How dare you! You're the one who keeps losing children!"
"I don't want to! I'm not trying to!"
"Don't take that tone with me!"
"Why shouldn't I?" I know I shouldn't have said that, but I was tired and frustrated and fed up.
He was shaking with anger, and I knew I'd made a mistake. He grabbed my shoulders and threw me against the wall, and I swear I heard the sound my head made slamming into the stone. It was like lightning. I heard the sound, the crack, and then the thunder of pain washed over me. It was all I could do to huddle on the floor.
And as I was curled against the wall, trying to make sense of this all, he boxed my ears, as if I were a misbehaving child. That hurt, too, but it also felt like such an insult-like I wasn't his equal, like I was too stupid to know what was right.
I think he said something, but I don't know what. I just know that I stumbled to my feet and somehow made it to my own bedroom so I could cry there.
I love him so much and I want this to work out but this is wrong. Something has gone wrong.
22 March 1642
I can't hear. My head hurts so bad and I can't hear. I'm going to cry. I can't write. It hurts.
23 March 1642
He yelled at me today, I think, but I couldn't hear a word he said. My head hurts.
25 March 1642
It hurts so much. I can't read. Reading hurts. The candle is too bright. The doctor gave me more laudanum but it still hurts.
26 March 1642
I can't hear anything. He talks to me but I can't hear him. I try to say it but I don't know what I'm saying. My head hurts so much.
27 March 1642
I tried writing my thoughts, but writing hurts, too. And my thoughts don't make any sense.
29 March 1642
He yelled again today, but when I put my hands over my ears I think he understood, because he went very quiet and turned away and didn't look at me anymore.
31 March 1642
He handed me a piece of paper today with the most mournful frown. I read it, even though it hurt. He wrote "I've made you unable to hear, so I vow to never speak again."
I feel horrible now. It's all my fault. If I hadn't made him angry, he wouldn't have done this, and now he's going to be mute for the rest of his life because of me. And I don't understand why. If he wanted to make me feel better, why didn't he just apologize?
My head hurts. I need to go lie down.