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She was so busy trying to focus her thoughts upon a lifetime of bliss as Harry’s wife that she almost walked right into what she quickly discovered was an exchange that should have been very private.
Fortunatel
y, she also discovered she could duck behind a large decoupage screen so as to wait, unobserved, until it was safe to pass.
But it was uncomfortable to bear witness to someone else’s distress, she found, as she heard the words, “Yet again you fail to do me proud. You are not entirely without attractions, Susan, and yet you certainly do not make them visible to me. Or to the company you keep. Can you at least try to give the appearance that you are not the unhappiest woman in Essex?”
Lizzy put her hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. This was Mrs Hodge’s Susan, she realised when she heard the bitter reply. “Play-acting was discouraged in my household. It is hard to pretend what I am not.”
“Is it children? Or the lack of? By God, do you know how hard I try to be a good husband? But your barren womb and your barren heart make it all but impossible. Please smile at least some of the time we are forced to be together in company.”
“Like you do when we are alone? You do not, Richard. You never smile at me except when I am in company. You are never kind to me except when we are in company. As for my barren heart, it is hardly likely to flower given the way you press your attentions on me every night in an attempt to prove that it is I who is responsible for our childlessness. I spoke to the doctor who attended Mrs Moore when she delivered her sixth child. He agreed with the midwife who said begetting children was a shared responsibility, and that it was not always the woman who is at fault.”
“It certainly isn’t mine.”
“But you forever tell me it is mine. Do you not understand, Richard, what it is to be continually blamed, and to continually suffer the act in the belief that there is nothing to change the situation? Why do you still come to my bed if you believe nothing can be gained from it? Why subject me to your scorn and your disappointment?”
There was a harsh laugh at this. Lizzy, meanwhile, was cringing with horror at what she was hearing—and which she barely understood—and the fear of being caught eavesdropping.
“At least there is some pleasure to be had, even if the object is fruitless. You are not so naïve as to misunderstand that, Susan.”
“Then perhaps you could try and extend that…pleasure to include not making me your vassal…or your vessel.” There was a sound of feet on floorboards and then Susan’s strangled words, “You wouldn’t hit me for voicing the simple desire of every wife?”
“I have never hit you, and you know it.”
“But you have threatened me enough times for me to wonder when you will.”
“God, woman, but you have given me a lifetime of vexations.”
Lizzy stifled her own cry. Should she show herself and perhaps prevent violence? Then Susan’s voice sounded, dignified, and cutting, “I have put a roof over your head, Richard, thanks to what you earned from the transaction. Had I known how deep you were in, how desperately you wanted my fortune, not me, do you not think I’d have looked elsewhere?”
“So, it’s come to this!”
“I wish it had a long time ago. It is good to finally speak plainly. The truth is, I deplore being married to you, Richard.”
Lizzy pressed her hand more firmly to her mouth. She couldn’t believe it. Was this really lily-livered Susan speaking so boldly to her own husband? Oh dear lord, they must never know she’d heard a word, though it was not just what they’d said. It was the awful misery she could hear in Susan’s voice.
Her husband spoke again, his tone cold and overbearing. “You were never very clever at choosing your moments, Susan. Tonight, we share the same bed. And we are on our way to bed. I think I shall need to show you why continued marital relations are in our mutual best interests.”
“I shall deny you.”
“You cannot. It is against the law.”
“I shall leave you.”
“And you would have nothing. No Susan, think wisely on this. The law and the power are on my side. I have it all. Now, come to bed. If you apologise prettily, I shall forgive you. I can be tender; you know I can.” He drew in a breath through his nostrils and laughed softly. “When it is in my interests. I think this conversation has established where we stand. But you are my wife and there’s an end to it. Let us to bed.”
“I shall follow,” Susan said simply though there were tears in her voice.
Lizzy heard the rustle of her dress and her soft footsteps, as if she were pacing back and forth. Then her voice, once more. “If you intend to be as kind as you say you will, please give me a few minutes to collect myself.” She took a shuddering breath. “I shall come shortly.”
In tense silence, Lizzy waited. After a few moments, she heard Susan’s soft footsteps heading towards the door through which her husband had exited and believing it safe, stepped out from behind the screen, just as Susan, who was now sitting on the window seat below a large portrait of the third earl who had built magnificent Quamby House, looked up.
“Lizzy!” she cried, bringing her hands to her now flushed face. “How long have you been hiding there?”
“I wasn’t hiding. Not intentionally,” Lizzy protested, stepping closer, as she really had no choice. “I am sorry for hearing what was not for my ears.”
The corner of Susan’s mouth turned up though her expression remained grim. “I am sure you didn’t understand a word,” she muttered.
