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comfortably settled in a new home and the boy was out of danger. Defeated, I
decided to bathe and asked Gallo to organize some food for me and replenish
the brazier in Cay's study.
An hour later, bathed, fed and warmly dressed again in loose, comfortable,
indoor clothes, I sat down at
Cay's desk by the window and gathered my patience to wait for someone to come
home.
It was growing dark by the time I heard the noises that told me my children
had finally arrived home from their excursion with their nurse, and I went
looking for them, unusually excited by the prospect of
being able to spend some time with them, without other pressures demanding my
attention. Luceiia and I
were regarded as peculiar by some of our friends, in that we tended to spend a
great deal of time with our children, enjoying them as much as we could. But
other priorities seemed to intrude more and more all the time, and time spent
with the children was something that happened all too seldom nowadays. I felt
my usual surge of pleasure in seeing that they were all happy to see me:
Veronica, the eldest at ten, Lucilla who was bewitching at seven, and
Dorathea, breathtakingly beautiful and four years old, but feverish this
evening and sniffly with a cold.
We were still together when Luceiia arrived home from the birthing with the
news that Margaret
Lupidus, one of our newest colonists, had safely given birth to twin daughters
who seemed to be identical. This was not good news. Twin sons had been revered
in Rome since the birth of Romulus and
Remus, but twin daughters were a burden to any family and were not looked upon
with favour. Luceiia and I shared a cup of wine after the children had gone to
bed and drank in commiseration for the Lupidus family, which now consisted of
five living daughters from seven birthings, none of which had yielded a son.
We loved our daughters dearly, but few families could afford a brood of girls
as well as we could.
There were times when I longed for a son, but I made it a point of honour
never to mention that to
Luceiia.
When our single cup was empty I rose to replenish it and told Luceiia the
story of my day on the land, amusing her with the comments and observations of
the farmers, who, like all farmers everywhere, tended to see life from a
different viewpoint than other men, and frequently to hilarious effect.
Finally I
leaned over and kissed her.
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"It's early enough to be sinful. Come to bed with me."
"Why? Are you tired?"
I laughed aloud at the tone of her voice. "No, but it's a cold, wet night and
I want your heat."
She sniffed disdainfully. "Heat I have, and to spare, but it's a beautiful
night and not cold at all."
"It's pouring!"
"Nonsense, the rain stopped hours ago. The weather is beautiful and the sky is
clear. There will be a moon tonight."
I blinked at her. "It must be wet somewhere," I said.
"It will be. Come."
We stood up together and my throat was choked with lust, but propriety still
made demands of me.
"What about dinner?" I asked, rasping the words.
"What about it? There's only us. Everyone else is gone. I told Gallo I would
cook for us in our own chambers. What would you like for dinner?" Her voice
was low and throaty, intimate.
"You."
"Well, Master," she replied, smiling, "dinner is almost ready, awaiting only a
few, last-minute touches."
Soon, we lay panting on our bed like a pair of newly-weds, too impatient for
each other to bother with removing our clothes. I was more than ready, and as
I entered the loving warmth of my wife's body my mind was filled with the need
to control my surging seed. Luceiia took me smoothly, and I lay securely
lodged, fighting to empty my mind of where I was and straining to relax and
make no movement. But I
knew it would be to no avail; my mind and my body were united to defeat me,
and I felt the pressure mounting, spurred by the sheer sensations of such hot
and moist containment. And then I was saved and yet frustrated by the sound of
a howling, childish wail from somewhere deep in the house. Luceiia froze
immediately, her head cocked to one side, the transition from lover to mother
instantaneous.
"It's Dora."
"I know," I said, willing her to ignore it. "Annika will see to her." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]