can acquire a marriage license for the two of you. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, so maybe I will
be able to find one by then, now wouldn’t that be nice?” Showing her teeth, she snapped her
body to face Anne. “Come with me, girl. We are going to go out and see if we can’t find you and
Sebastian a license, and hopefully you two will be able to sign it by tomorrow. Make haste now.”
Anne nodded and glumly followed her mistress out of the house door again, finding it
ironic that she may be licensed to marry a man whom she knew so little about on the same day in
which she was once arranged to be married to Rad.
That Christmas Day in Oxford, the sun rose taciturn, hostile, and unwilling to shed any
kind of friendly light on the wintry world as a morose Anne stood in her best dress at the front of
the interior of Oxford Town Hall with Madame Button. The older woman had gone on a great
quest to acquire a marriage license for Sebastian and Anne, not sleeping a wink during the night
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but making all of the arrangements with an exhausted, young girl shuffling after her the entire
time. After Madame Button had spoken with one of the officials of the hall about everything, she
had commanded Anne to dress her best and go to the hall immediately afterward, and she had
done so just as the day had been dawning. The only person who was absent from their company
was Sebastian, and Anne could tell how the woman’s patience was failing her as she began to
grumble to herself minutes after Anne had entered the hall.
“Where in God’s name is that man?” she suddenly burst out, throwing up her hands. “I
seem to remember informing him of the time in which we were going to meet here. I hope that
he hasn’t had a bout of irresponsibility and wandered off to a pub to drink some more. I would
like him to be sober before he signs this document.” She tapped the placed license with her long
fingernails impatiently, gradually looking at Anne as if it were all her fault. Before she could
accuse, however, Sebastian rushed through the door and into their midst, appearing no cleaner
than he had the day before, with the same clothes and rough lewdness about him. There was,
though, a distinct difference in the color of his eyes and skin, for he no longer looked ill but
simply harried and tired. He strode toward Madame Button, stopping in front of her and bowing.
“My sincerest apologies, ma’am, for my tardiness,” he muttered. “I have not been in
Oxford for very long and I forgot where the hall was.”
Madame Button blinked at him. “Oh, really? I thought that you have been in town for a
while. Well, never mind. I’m glad that you had the propriety to become sober for this,
Sebastian.” She urged Anne to stand beside Sebastian before pushing the piece of paper toward
the couple. “Now this really shouldn’t take long, you two. The quicker you sign your names, the
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quicker we can begin to prepare for the ceremony. Read the license over and then sign. That’s
it.” She nodded. “Go on, now.”
With no hesitation, Sebastian took the quill pen, dipped it in ink and wrote down his
complete name, but Anne took her time at reading. She was aware of what she was doing-by
signing her name she vowed to remain married to Sebastian for as long as she lived, for better or
for worse, in sickness and in health. Even on the worst days when she felt like she could not live
with him a moment longer she would have to anyway, because not only was she joining herself
with Sebastian but she was placing herself under the total control of Madame Button. If she ran
away from Sebastian, Madame Button would find her and take from her everything that she had
left. Thus, she was about to make herself a slave to a tyrant, but with no way out otherwise. That
same awful feeling of damnation that weighed down Anne’s heart when she had been engaged to
Rad certainly pained her now, but this time she could not save herself from the fire. The tears
began their siege in her eyes as she continued her eyes over the words on the paper, but she could
not, and would not, fight for her heart. She lifted a quivering hand for the pen, immersed it in ink
and wrote down on the marriage license Anne Elizabeth Falkman.
January 1771
The cold, winter wind danced all around the burgundy carriage as it creaked closer to
Sebastian’s country estate in Bedfordshire. Atop the driver’s seat Sebastian sat tall and proud,
but his new wife Anne sulked on the seat within the carriage, staring out at the winter with vague
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contempt. She had not wanted to travel to Bedfordshire in the middle of winter, but Madame
Button had told her that she did not want to spend her money on lodgings in inns until spring
arrived, so she had driven the girl along.
Sebastian and Anne had been married for a few weeks and Anne was beginning to think
that it would not be so bad to be his wife after all. The man was lazy, that was certain, and he
could not sit down or do anything without a goblet of whiskey or wine in his hand, but Anne had
observed him carefully and found some mutual characteristics. Sebastian seemed to her an
interesting individual who liked an adventure and to try different things in life, and all through
her life Anne had been the same way. He was also reckless and hot-headed, traits that matched
Anne’s precisely. One day she had witnessed him playing cards with a group of men, and when
the game was half over, for no reason at all he had turned his back on it to purchase a couple of
drinks, and never returned. Anne had also discovered something else that Sebastian rather
enjoyed: boots. Whenever he engaged in conversation with someone else, he would almost
always speak of the many different kinds and styles of boots that there were in the world,
showing off a few pairs of his favorite kinds. Anne had seen him show three pairs to others, but
she guessed that he owned more in his home. She did not care for such an industry, but the fact
that her husband did made him exceptional to her. One of the things that she did not understand,
however, was his lack of interest in her. Before she had become his wife she had hoped that such
a fact would change after they were married, but that had not been the case. He acted as if he did
not even have a wife, exercising his voice on chats with his friends. The delinquent had already
purchased the liquor with the money that Madame Button had committed to him if he married
Anne, and when he was not talking he was washing brandies, wines, and whiskies down his
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throat with not a second thought about it. The girl only hoped that he would soon take a liking to
her as much as he did with his drinks, for that would make living with him so much easier.
The estate soon came into view of the moving vehicle, and Anne wondered at its lovely
simplicity when she laid eyes upon it. The mansion was brick, with a green roof and shutters that
hung beside the windows of twelve rooms. A short distance south of the building was a small,
brown, neat stable, and at the two corners of the front part of the mansion were two green bushes
feathered with snow. On the anterior side, between the bushes, a flower bed full of sleeping
tulips was planted and both a rose garden and daffodil garden were found on the sides adjacent.
The entire property was enclosed with a white fence, which Sebastian parked the carriage to
open the gate to before he drove toward the stable yards. As he was doing so, the door to the
mansion opened and a tall, aging woman rushed out to meet the newcomers. She was slender,
with graying hair, and the first thing that she did when she reached the carriage was fling its
doors open and help Anne to climb down. The woman smiled politely, holding the girl’s hands in
front of her.
“Hello, Mrs. Lamonce. I’m Eloise, the old maid around here. You are much lovelier than
my master told me in his letter. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Anne gave a wry smile. “Thank you, Eloise. It’s a pleasure.” She rudely turned to search
for her baggage while Eloise left to talk to her master, curtsying when she faced him.
“Hello, sir. I hope that you have had a comfortable journey. I have been managing
everything well in your absence.”
Sebastian did not even turn around but nodded elusively and began to search for some
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brandy by his seat. “Fine,” he muttered indistinctly.
Eloise frowned at him, then proceeded to take out all of the bags and parcels, rolling her
eyes when she carried out the various containers of liquor that were stacked inside. She presently
turned to Anne, looking a bit cross.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lamonce. There’s no one around here to do all of these things except I,
so I’m afraid that I won’t be able to show you your room like a regular maid would do. Please
enter the house on your own accord and I will be there as soon as I can.”
Anne nodded, disliking the woman for not placing her new mistress in front of everything
else. She turned and trotted toward the house in the cold, hoping that Eloise could tear herself
away from Sebastian long enough to serve her a good, hot dinner.
The oak clock in Anne’s furnished bedroom struck seven and still the girl had not eaten.
She sat on the edge of her bed, thinking about all of the tasks that her new maid was most likely
performing instead when she heard footsteps and Eloise showed herself in the doorway,
curtsying apologetically. Before she could speak, however, Anne leapt to her feet.
“Where on earth have you been? Here it is seven o’clock and I have not had a bite of
dinner! What could have been more important, Eloise? You know, I wouldn’t even be here if I
hadn’t been forced to…” She stopped, putting a hand to her mouth, but Eloise did not notice as
she apologized again.
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“Do forgive me, Mrs. Lamonce, please. For about an hour now, Mr. Lamonce has had me
polishing his boots, serving him brandy, and then waiting on him while he ate his meal. But
don’t fret; I’m sure that there is still some stuffed duck for you downstairs. Please follow me.”
Eloise led Anne down the staircase and instructed her to have a seat inside the dining
room while she went into the kitchen to retrieve the food, but moments after she did so, Anne
heard her squeak. The maid emerged a moment later, appearing perplexed and a bit angry as she
stood before Anne again.
“I am deeply sorry, Mrs. Lamonce. There is not one bit of duck left on the platter that I
placed it on. That callous man must have filled himself with the entire bird. I suppose he’s
behind his desk now, becoming intoxicated.” She sighed tiredly. “I am sorry, ma’am. I never ate,
either. What would you like now?”
Anne groaned to herself, avoiding Eloise’s gaze. She wished that she was not as hungry
as she was at that moment, but she was. “I don’t know,” she grumbled. There was a pause, and
then Eloise nodded understandably.
“I can make you a large breakfast in the morning, dear, to repay you for what happened
tonight. How does that sound?”
Anne nodded absently, thinking that she wanted to retire to bed anyway. “That would be
fine, Eloise, thank you.” Standing up from the table, she suddenly realized something and looked
at her maid. “Excuse me, Eloise. You never showed me my room or told me about it. Is it the
same bedroom as…my husband’s?”
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Eloise furrowed her brow, noticing her mistress’s abhorrence of the man. “Yes, it is,
ma’am,” she said slowly. “Anyway, it was his when he always lived here, but I can find you
another room if his presence upsets you. Trust me, you wouldn’t be alone in that.”
Anne grimaced, struggling with her next question. “If I were to stay in that room, could
you tell me about any behaviors that he engages in before he goes to bed?”
Eloise laughed shortly, leaning against the wall. “Well, he fusses with his boots for a
couple of hours at least, and then drinks until his eyes are nearly out of his head. He also smokes
at intervals. The earliest I have ever known him to be asleep is two or three o’clock, but then he
sleeps until noon the next day. He is such a peculiar, troublesome heart. Taking care of him is
like taking care of a child. I think that you would definitely be happier residing in another room,
ma’am, so I will go and prepare one for you.”
“No,” Anne said, startling both herself and Eloise, who was making her way toward the
staircase again. Anne pondered over what she had just said. She did not entertain the thought of
sleeping in the same room, in the same bed as Sebastian, but she felt like somehow she had to;
like she would be punished if she did not. Maybe Eloise is exaggerating and it’s not as bad as it
seems, she thought. After all, she does not sleep immediately beside my bedroom, so how would
she know? I should try it.
“Wait, Eloise. Let me try sleeping in that room. I shall see for myself if it’s as horrible as
you say.”
Eloise looked incredulous, but she agreed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I think that
I should see what Mr. Lamonce is doing now.” She curtsied quickly and then hurried to a
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cluttered room down a short passage from the dining room.
Anne watched her maid go before trudging off to the stairs once more, and when she had
reached her bed she collapsed onto it, wondering how companionable it would be that night with
Sebastian sleeping next to her. Just then she heard swift footsteps on the stairs and she sat up,
thinking that it could not possibly be Sebastian so soon after dinner. Pale-faced, Eloise walked
into the room’s doorway and looked at Anne anxiously. Anne glared at her.
“What is it, Eloise?”
Eloise bit her lip. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I must ask if you had any items that were of
particular value to you?” She shuffled her feet, the white tone of her face filling with a red hue
now.
Anne’s eyes hardened while she rose to her feet, but she thought about everything that
she had brought along with her. The items that she loved the most were her collections of
jewelry, shoes, gowns, and a velvet shawl that Windsor had given to her two Christmases before.
“I have shoes, dresses, and many pieces of jewelry, Eloise, along with a shawl that has
been special to me, but why do you disturb me just to ask something like that?”
The maid gulped, and Anne knew that something had befallen one of her treasures.
“Well, ma’am, I went to Mr. Lamonce’s study to see what he was doing, as you know, and when
I saw him doing nothing other than what he usually does, sitting, smoking, and drinking, I turned
to go. As soon as I turned my back, however, I glimpsed him taking a beautiful, violet fabric and
setting it on his desk…”
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“Oh, no! My beauteous shawl? Eloise, what happened to it?” Anne’s lip began to tremble
as her frantic brain digested all that Sebastian could have done to her gift.
“I tried to stop him, ma’am,” Eloise cried out. “I turned and said to him, ‘Sir, might I ask
you where that shawl came from? I am the only maid that you have ever had and I can’t
remember having a shawl like that, and you have never had a wife.’ But his ears seemed to be
dead to my words because he set the lovely item on his desk, threw one of his cigars on it,
and…” Her voice trailed off pitiably before she glanced once more at her mistress. “I am deeply
sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand what could have induced him to do such an evil deed, but he
must not have been himself with all of that drink.”
Anne emitted a small scream, dipping her face in her hands dejectedly, not caring
whether Eloise could see her or not. That shawl had been her pride and joy; she had wrapped it
happily around her shoulders whenever the weather would turn crisp and cool, and now it had
been destroyed by a man who had been under the influence of alcohol. A rush of anger flooded
her heart as she opened her eyes within her hands and realized how that day had showed her
what Sebastian was really like. Nevertheless, she felt like Madame Button was somewhere near
watching her, and she knew that in order for it to seem like she was now his wife she most
certainly had to sleep in the same bedroom as he. Disguising her secreted emotions, Anne looked
up from her palms and stared at Eloise directly.
“Thank you for informing me of what happened, Eloise. You can now be excused.” She
gestured hurriedly for the maid to leave and she did, nodding apologetically again, curtsying, and
springing down the stairs. Anne turned toward her bed again, fancying that she had smelled
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something queer floating up from the lower floor a while ago. She shook her head.
Never mind, it was just a shawl that old Windsor gave me. Perhaps Sebastian would have
drunk so much tonight that he will not feel the need to during the night and I can sleep well.
A couple of hours later Anne laid in her bed half-conscious, listening to a profoundly
intoxicated man stumble across the room and speak to a pair of boots like they were his good
friends. Occasionally she jumped when an empty glass crashed onto the floor and quietly
groaned when it was soon refilled with a fresh drink. Eloise had been precise in the patterns of
Sebastian’s night behaviors; it was about midnight when he ceased talking to his boots and then
she felt him sit in a corner of the room on the floor, drinking the entire supply of liquor that he
had been given. Aside from his refilling, gulping, and then refilling again the atmosphere seemed
to be right for sleep, and Anne was beginning to doze off when she was suddenly awakened by a
loud, disturbing series of words that the man was repeating over and over again. She lifted her
head slightly from the pillows and glanced over at Sebastian, and what she saw sickened her. The
man was sitting with bad posture on the floor, looking longingly at several containers of liquor
that were sitting in front of him. After a while he picked a container up, shook it, kissed it, placed
it on the floor again and then began speaking to it in a passionate, loving tone.
“My dear, my dear…you are far more beautiful than all of the others. If you were truly
mine, I would love you until the day I die. But you see that I cannot be with you. How desirable
you are!”
When he did this to one vessel of liquor, he looked at another and treated it the same way.
No matter how many times Anne asked him to be quiet he would continue with what he was
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doing with not so much as an irritated glance in her direction. The girl would have bothered him
further into doing what she wanted, but she retained a deep fear of intoxicated men because of
the kind of man that her father had been, so she held her tongue more frequently. Sebastian
eventually found himself a suitable “wife” from his supply and the game ended, but then he
smoked countless cigars until the winter moon faded and the first light of the day peeked from
behind the horizon. By the time that he finally fell asleep it was eight o’clock, nearly a complete
night since he had come into the same bedroom as Anne, and only then did she climb out of bed
herself, feeling rugged. She had not slept so badly since she had lived on the streets, but more
than that, all of the hopes that she had possessed the night before about sleeping with Sebastian
were gone. Eloise had been totally correct in the telling of how he was at night as he presently sat
drooped on the floor in that corner with dead cigars and empty whiskey and brandy containers
lying all around him as evidence of the difficult night that Anne had spent.
She walked toward the door and stuck her head out, looking for Eloise, and as she did so
she grudgingly thought about all of the actions that Sebastian had taken because of his love for
himself. He had eaten the entire dinner of the night before with no remorse, set Anne’s shawl on
fire and kept her awake the full night with his smoking, talking, and drinking. The girl recalled
her fear of marriage and knew that doing what she had feared had not changed anything. She had
married unwillingly, forcibly, to a man who reminded her so much of her father, and she was still
afraid. By signing the arranged marriage license back in Oxford, she had trapped herself in a sea
of despair and unhappiness with no way to turn back. Marriage was an atrocious establishment, a
piece of paper that made it illegal to do anything other than what one was ordered to do, and as
Anne recognized the fullness of what had happened to her life she questioned how she would
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survive.
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13 Unhappiness
A couple of weeks passed from Anne’s first night at the estate, and it took all of her
strength and tenacity to live with the glum setting of her new home. No matter what she did or
where she went she felt Madame Button’s presence so strongly that she sometimes looked over
her shoulder, expecting to come face to face with her, thus, she spent every single night in the
same bedroom as Sebastian. Though he systematically performed the same pattern of crude
activities every night she became accustomed to sharing a room with him, but on an occasional
night she would find herself waking up to one of his loud conversations with his beverages. The
fact that she could sleep better did not uplift her general mood, however. Eloise was often so
occupied with either the home, the yard, or the stable yards that she did not pay heed to Anne as
much as the girl would have liked, and her husband literally acted as if she did not exist. As the
days passed, Anne grew more horrified at the way that Sebastian lived. He would wake from one
of his hard nights at around noon, stumble downstairs to pick up some food and sit down
anywhere at all, taking out a bottle of rum or pouring himself a glass of beer, eating, and then
smoking. After he was done with these activities he would go and admire his boots, talk to
himself and his boots, eat again, sleep, and then drink. Anne knew that she had never known
such a decaying person, and every day she wished that she did not have to anymore. She
wondered how someone could live with such rottenness and be content.
Eloise was not much different. Anne seldom found the maid in the house where she was
supposed to be, since she had to take care of everything because Sebastian would not pay another
maid or butler to help her. These distractions were not the sole reason why Anne disliked her.
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Rather, she soon found that the woman had a harsh, irritable exterior, ordering Anne to do this
and that when it was Anne’s place to tell her what to do. Eloise was also a poor maid, tending
more to Sebastian than to Anne, yet this made sense because the man would, like a child, yell out
in protest if she was not by his side when he wanted her to be. Anne did not know or care why
Sebastian was so dependent on their maid; she only cared about being treated like a queen herself
again. With no traveling, social gatherings and excitement, she vainly spent her days sewing,
reading and knitting until the present morning arrived and she sat sadly around the dining room
table nibbling at her breakfast while Eloise prepared Sebastian’s in the kitchen.
All of a sudden she heard regular, competent steps on the stairs and then on the floor and
Sebastian walked in, well-groomed and dressed in his best. Upon seeing him Anne’s jaw
dropped, as did the sc