Another child. One more mouth to feed and yet I still could not produce a male heir. An heir he wished desperately to have. As soon as the squalling babe was out of my womb it was handed to him and decreed not his. My heart sank. Another girl.
Drat, the life we lived. Girls were just as worthy to inherit the estate. If only the men of the world saw it.
I was weak from birth. The pregnancy this time had been tougher than the others on my body. I was no longer a young maiden fresh into wedlock but middle-aged.
Instead of asking after me. He, my husband asked when I could have another. The doctor didn’t meet his eyes as he shook his head and told him that it would take several weeks or months for me to recover.
Life after that got hard. No longer adored by my husband I was ignored, punished and eventually locked me in a tower with nothing but a window. Just because I couldn’t bare him anymore children. More importantly I could no longer bare him an heir.
I sat for several days hoping that my husband would bring me nourishment. Food sustenance of any kind. But he did not. Anger flared within me at his dixpicable act. I went to the one and only window in the tower and looked down at the rocks below. There was no way to escape. No way to climb. No way but death.
But I vowed to punish him one way or another for his crime as I let my body fall to the rocks below.
And punish him she did. It is told that the Lady Isobel and her children lurk among the estate even to this day.
P. S. Look out for my books coming soon.