Instead of Myself
My stepmother was well aware that Emily didn’t want to marry a widower, and it wasnt because he had a little girl or that he was a few years older. The truth was, Emily was utterly terrified of him. His sharp, piercing stare cut right through to your core, and out of sheer fright, her heart raced and pounded in her chest as if trying to defend itself from the arrows of his gaze. Emily always kept her eyes low, refusing to raise them for the longest time. When she did, everyone noticed the tears pooled there, ready to spill over.
Those tears then streamed down her flushed cheeks, red from embarrassment. Her hands trembled, and her small fists desperately wanted to push away the stepmother and the suitor shed chosen. Yet her treacherous tongue cursed her by replying, “I’ll go.”
There you have it, then, my stepmother declared, satisfied. Youd be mad not to marry into such a household, with such a man, such a master! You know, he doted on his first wifeshe was a poor thing, hardly ever well. Thin as a rail and always coughing. When theyd walk, hed make three steps to her one. Shed have to stop, breathing like a steam engine, and hed simply hold her, calm her, never raising his voice like your late father, may he rest in peace.”
“When she was carrying,” my stepmother went on, “she was seldom seen out and about. Bedridden, mostly, and after the birth, hed be up every night tending to the baby while she slipped further away.”
Thats how his mother saw it. But youhealthy as can be, youre practically fit for the Queens sitting room! Handy, can do anything, whether its with shears or in the kitchen, and a dab hand at weaving and spinning too. Be a shame to marry you off to some young scatterbrainhot-headed, not settled, still full of nonsense, the lot of them. But with him, everything’s clear, we all know where we stand. What luck for you!
“Ill have a tipple ready, and well have a proper evening. The widower doesnt need much of a weddingwouldnt do to anger the memory of his late wife with too much festivity. He even said not to bother with a dowry, says the house is overflowing as it is.”
George married for love the first time, knowing full well that Veras health was fragile, that she was gentle and frail, and his mother always said he needed a sturdy woman, a real English rose, not a hothouse flower. But neither kin nor common sense could sway him. Only Vera would do. Whispers floated around the village that hed been bewitched, for what else would make a man sign himself up for a lifetime of worry and pain?
Doctors had always warned, Veras lungs were weakany chill led straight to infection, to asthma, and, who could say, perhaps worse. But George believed he could love death away. He would nurse her, tend to her, and shed mend. And for a time, after the wedding, things were bright. Young, happy, they thought themselves the luckiest pair in Essex.
Then Vera fell pregnant, and it was like something had been turned inside out. Weakness flooded her body, dizziness, constant sleepinessshe grew so frail she couldnt even brush her own long hair, let alone keep up with the housework.
The doctors said it was just morning sickness, told her shed regain her strength once the baby was born. George never complained as he nursed her, always gentle, always loving. His mother berated him day and night, saying hed brought home a burden, not a wife, but George stood up for Vera like a hawk guarding its nest, eventually asking his mother to stay away.
When Vera gave birth to a girl, George hoped joy and strength would return to their home. And for a brief moment, happiness did pay a visitbut it didnt last. Vera fell ill after a chill and never recovered, fading before their eyes.
She was admitted to hospital, and the doctor, blunt as they come, said, “Her lungs are failing, nothing to be done.” Vera knew there wasnt much time left. At first, she hid it, trying to muster up a smile, lips bent while her eyes betrayed the pain and fear for tomorrow, for her daughters future.
It was as if her gaze was saying goodbye, urging us to remember her bright and cheerful. Her thin frame and hollow chest hardly needed words; you knew death was waiting in the wings. Expecting her end, Vera asked George to listen to one last request.
No man can change the plans of God. Our love is tiredthe fights been too hard. Forgive me, and forgive our daughter. I was born under an unlucky star and brought sorrow to us all.
George gripped her hands, now warm and dry as firewood, and kissed them. Her breaths grew weaker; he knew her time was ending. She poured out her love and concern for their daughter in broken, hurried sentences, then finally, in a gentle tone, said, “Marry Emilyshell be a good wife and mother to our girl. Shes been through so much herself, with that stepmother, those stepsisters, and her drunkard of a father. I know her story, and my mothers seen it all with her own eagle eyes. Emilys kind, hardworking, patientshe wont harm our daughter, and shell come to love you. Treat her as you did meas if I were with you still, in her shape. Forgive me for saying so, but Im blackened from worry for our child. The rest is up to you. But remember, do not wrong our daughter, or Ill curse you from the next world. These last words, she spoke slowly, with all the force she could muster, and squeezed his hand tight.
George wept openly, unable to see Vera through his tears, knowing from her shallow breaths her time was nearly spent. Her peaceful face, smiling faintly, stared into the distance. Even as her grip slackened, he kissed her from head to foot, sobbing and swearing to keep her wishes. Thats why, a year after her passing, George came to court Emily.
Stepmother had been prepared by Georges mother-in-law, who herself wished for her granddaughter to have a loving stepmother and feared her time left was short. She wanted her son-in-law and granddaughter to settle, to secure some happiness after such grief.
No one understood better than she what George had endured and, for his devotion to her daughter, she could have kissed the ground he walked on and begged Heaven for happiness for him.
The courtship was all a blur to me. Seeing how hard life was for his daughter without her mother, and for himself without a housekeeper, George finally answered his late wifes plea. Hed watched Emily for some time and noticed she was obedient, polite, prettyeven reminded him a little of Vera: same long hair, same gentle smile, same way of walking.
Sometimes he wanted to walk over, embrace her tightly, and just stand there, imagining Vera again. Emily herself couldnt say for certain why she agreed to marry George. Perhaps shed grown tired of being a servant to her stepmother, or of dragging her drunken father home, or defending him from her stepmothers attacks; maybe she was worn down by her stepsisters mocking, or perhaps she simply pitied Georges motherless girl.
Whatever the reason, upon agreeing she realised this marriage would bring new trialsshed have to learn to love George, and win his love in return.
After the courtship, George decided it was time for his daughter to get to know Emily better. Vera, when alive, seldom left the house, spending every waking minute with their daughter Alice. At night, George would find Vera bent over the cot, whispering things to Alice, as though advising her for the future.
George couldnt think about it without tears. Alice clung to her familyher dad, her mum, her grandmother, and, sadly, a sharp-tongued other grandmother. He brought Emily home so she and Alice could meet without his overly cheerful stepmother looking on as though someone were finally carting off a cow that never gave milk.
Alone, Emily rarely spoke to George, but she saw that he wasnt stern at all, rather, he was considerate and attentive. Plainly, he asked Emily that if she had someone she loved, he would step aside; he never mentioned Veras request.
Emily was stunned by the splendour of Georges homefine furniture, all homemade, dozens of embroidered pictures in lacquered wooden frames, spacious and well-lit rooms. When Alice saw Emily, she behaved oddlynot scared, but almost playful.
Alice brought over her toys and asked Emily to play. She kept touching Emilys hand and watched her with bright, curious eyes, sometimes smiling. During their games, Emily hugged Alice several times and gently combed her hairwhich was every bit as lovely as her mothers.
Shall I do your hair? Make you look just like a princess? she offered.
George watched them at play, his heart full to bursting. Hed been so afraid to bring Emily into their home, worried that Alice, forever asking for her mother and endlessly scanning the window for her return, would never accept anyone else. Whenever people came through the door, Alice would rush to meet them, hoping it was her mummy come back.
He tried explaining, but Alice was barely four, and her little heart wanted only a tender, caring mum. George saw, too, that his love, his arms, would never replace a mothers touch.
He feared he was deluding himself about Emily. But when Alice pouted and nearly cried when Emily said goodbye, George felt, for the first time in ages, a wave of calm.
Alice took Emily by the hand, led her to her own room, pulled back the covers, patted down the pillows, and, radiant with joy, bounced on the bed up to the ceiling.
All at once, Emily saw herself at Alices age, when her stepmother had first moved in, how she was forever scolded for eating bread, how her stepmother would secretly feed her own daughters sweets, how she herself was left to finish everyones mended dresses, how she tucked her drunk father up under her own blanket out of pity, and how her stepmother threatened to send her away as you might an unwanted animal, cursing her all the while.
With a lump in her throat, Emily hugged Alice tightly and lay beside her until she drifted off, safe and happy. George, overwhelmed, hardly knew how to behave in Emily’s company. They drank tea quietly, simply smiling at each other. He didnt let Emily go home that evening.
He simply couldnt let her go.
A wife belongs with her husband, not somewhere shes unwanted.
Looking back, I realise now how duty can become love when you open your heart to those who need you most. I learnt that kindnessgiven and receivedheals old wounds and creates a home, even from the deepest sorrows.
