“I hope the two of you figure out a way that brings you peace,” he said at last. He knew then, the moment he felt empathy for his father, that his own fate would be otherwise, and the point and purpose of his life would be different. “I hope you find a way home.” He left Purchase and returned to seek out his wife, who would give him untold joy and a life far apart from the other generations at Stonehouses. Of this he was sure.

That evening, when the wedding was over and the newlyweds made their way off to start their life together, Purchase Merian picked up again his own permanent burden and set out in search of his wife. The purpose of his road was to find her, and he still imagined that if the two of them could only unite in lasting happiness it would be very glorious. He would not have rest before this and knew that as well. He was glad indeed his son was at Stonehouses and protected from knowing too much at too young an age, even if he was proving very precocious.

five

Libbie had always heard about the generosity of those at Stonehouses to friends and strangers alike, especially when Jasper Merian was still in his prime. The winter she first made a home there, however, was the coldest time she had so far known in her remembered life. She was not in the main house, of course, but the new place Caleum had put up with Magnus’s help on the southern side of the lake, and she could not imagine a place of greater desolation and distance from life’s comforts.

She knew her husband had built their home with her in mind, and it moved her to see all he had done to make it pleasant for her; still, she could not help but notice what was absent. For instance, when he showed her the glassed-in windows that framed the parlor, with a view out to the blue-green waters of the lake — gathering both the eastern and western light of the sun as it passed through the day — instead of thinking herself lucky to have such a fine picture window, she wondered only how she would endure not looking out on the vista she was used to from her parents’ house. She always reprimanded herself after such a thought, but the glass in the window seemed hard and forbidding to her, as opposed to the warm wooden shutters with which she had grown up. Furthermore, the distance from Magnus and Adelia in the main house, to say nothing of the next nearest neighbor, seemed to her so great that they might as well have been at the other edge of creation.

The building itself was the same size as her parents’ home, but, because it was occupied by only the two of them, it felt massive and empty. At night it was especially barren, and there was an echo that reverberated through the halls, which reminded her that she no longer heard her mother’s voice in the morning, or even her brothers fighting with each other at all hours of the day.

“I have built it for us to fill together,” said Caleum, who had spent the entire summer with his uncle and two hired men building for them a small replica of the main building, and he could not believe she did not find it agreeable, as he himself felt very rich when he finished putting it up. “The parlor will be warm when you have made curtains of your own design for the windows. The empty sounds will be padded by the paper you hang on the walls. The echoing rooms will fill with our children.”

She listened to him attentively, and was soothed by his words, until she heard his voice say children. Children? She knew certainly it was part of what was expected of her; however, she had not thought what it meant until she heard it from his mouth. When he said the word so assuredly she felt a crisis of fear, as its reality was brought home to her. She did not know if she was brave enough to face the danger she knew birth to be. She started then to weep.

Her mother had lectured her on what she might expect during her first days and weeks of marriage. Even if it had been for the most part a pleasant picture, and she had entered married life optimistically, Libbie could not divorce it from the stories she had heard since her girlhood of women who died during their labors. So when her husband came into their bedroom that first night, despite all her excitement about their new marriage, and even the physical spark that had passed between them early in their courtship, she was afraid to be with him as his wife.

Caleum was mystified by her tears but tried nonetheless to console her. “You are only being homesick,” he reasoned thoughtfully, unaware of her growing panic. “You will get used to it here.”

She tried to stop her tears. “Yes, you are right,” she said. “I know we will have a successful marriage and life together.”

When she finally recovered from crying, he drew nearer to her. He was at first patient, thinking her reluctance was like her tears, and that it would pass just as soon as she became accustomed to him and her new surroundings. When his patience was not rewarded, though, he grew angry and became increasingly hostile in his entreaties.

This did not have the intended effect, however, so that in the end he backed down and drew to one side of their new bed. She stayed on her side, as each stared out separately into the first night of their life together.

“I don’t mean to be rough with you,” he told her from his side.

“Nor do I mean to keep myself from you,” she answered.

“We are married now.”

“For what it means.”

“It is supposed to mean we are bound up with each other for the duration of things.”

“What is it we will have to endure?”

“That I do not know, but I don’t mean to be rough with you either.”

“Nor do I mean to keep myself from you.”

Having reached an understanding in principle, they both relaxed slightly in the darkened room. They did not have a long history together that they could call upon, or even a fight before this one to use as trail mark, but they tried to find their way back to one another nonetheless.

“How will you decorate the house?” he asked her eventually.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had anything so big or empty to try and fill.”

“I will help you in it.”

“You mean you will help me with the sewing and choosing fabric for curtains?” She laughed.

“No, not the curtains, but I might have something to say about the tableware,” he replied lightly, making her giggle even more. “I knew from the very first that you should be my wife and all that means,” he said then, catching her unaware with tenderness.

“As did I,” she answered him, finding herself grown less afraid.

He ventured then to approach nearer to her and reach out with his fingers for hers under the covers. She seized on them violently, and he could tell by this pressure what it was the matter.

“Are you afraid?”

“Mm-hm.”

He could not truthfully tell her not to be, because he was amateur as she and not so experienced as to give advice. However, he took care to show her every consideration after that, so when he moved closer beside her, she did not startle but simply closed her eyes. She knew it was part of her duty and was also anxious to have it be over, and as he inched closer to her she felt herself on the edge of some radiant mystery, which she understood to be general knowledge among her sex, but nonetheless seemed colossal as she lay at its gateway.

As she relaxed, Caleum’s thoughts and actions juggled between giving attention to her, his own nervousness, and the sheer excitement he felt at being upon his marriage bed. Under his touch her anxiousness began to pass and her senses awaken. They kissed passionately after that for a great long time, and began to explore each other as they had not before. Try as they might, though, neither of them could quite get used to the fact that their actions were not illicit. Because of this there was not any great freedom their first night together, but general awkwardness, and they were both happy to keep the covers pulled up as they explored and found their way beneath them. Their lovemaking then was clumsy and awkward as birds taking flight for the first time.