Page 139 of Swordheart
Sarkis’s eyebrows drew down, and then, with vast resignation, he said, “The goats?”
“Well, he hated unpleasantness. And slaughtering time was very unpleasant, so if we were going to eat any of them, I had to do it. I didn’t really mind, but it would have been nice to have help.” Halla realized that they’d gotten rather badly off track. “Anyway, he was never cruel, just… err… not very concerned with what I wanted. And no one else has been interested at all.”
The darkness went away. She was glad to see it go. Sarkis lifted her hand to his lips. “A man would have to be half-dead not to be interested in you,” he murmured against her fingers.
“Flatterer.”
“I am utterly sincere.”
She shook her head. “Even my husband wasn’t interested in me in particular.”
Sarkis shook his head. “I don’t blame any man for not enjoying bedsports, but why marry and condemn his wife to the same?”
“It wasn’t that.” She topped off her wine. “He liked bedsports well enough. I just happened to be the other person there for it. And really, he had no choice in the matter of marrying me. Aunt Malva and her sisters were cut from the same cloth. His motherwas determined to see him wed someone. I’d no money, but I was…” She trailed off, staring into the wine. “Biddable,” she said finally.
“I findthathard to believe.”
She chuckled. “Well. I was young. And…”
He raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“… young.” She took a swallow of the wine. “They expected to control him completely, so they were careful to choose someone who wouldn’t threaten that, or go calling for an annulment. Someone poor. But his mother wanted grandkids, so…” She slapped her hip. “A good breeder. Strong hips.”
Sarkis wisely said nothing to this.
“Fertility runs in the family, you see. That’s why we’re poor. Too many mouths. But nothing came of it.” She set the winecup down with a click. “Then the fever carried him off, a few years later. And I haven’t dared… not since then. In case I did catch pregnant.”
“You didn’t want a child.”
“And have someone else living as precariously as I did?” Halla shook her head. “Silas would have turned me out. He was a decent old man and he liked his comfort more than respectability, but there were limits.”
Sarkis looked at her steadily.
“And I didn’t want a child,” she admitted. “Never have. Too many around when I was growing up. Five of us, all climbing over each other and making an unholy racket. And you know how that ended up.” She shrugged.
“I’m sorry.” He pulled her back against him, hand moving on her hair. Unlike his earlier urgency, there was nothing but kindness in the touch. Halla sighed, both comforted and regretting the loss.
More the fool me. A handsome man looks at me for the first time in years, and I panic like a novice nun and kiss him, even knowing better.
“Are there no herbs among your people to prevent conception?”
Halla scowled. “There are. I even tried some once.”
“And did they not work?”
“I suppose it depends on your definition of ‘worked.’”
He waited.
“I vomited for four days.” Halla shuddered at the memory. “In that sense, they were marvelously effective, since I couldn’t get far enough away from a bucket to try conceiving anything.”
Sarkis’s chest twitched against her back as he choked down a laugh. “Iamsorry.”
“It’s all right. Years ago.” She leaned back against him, relaxing into the sensation of warm muscle against her back.
He was still stroking her hair. It was soothing and yet the spark of desire she’d been feeling steadfastly refused to go out.Foolish. You should have known better.
“So you’ve let no one into your bed since then? For fear of getting a child?”
