Senemut sighed and toyed with one of herred-gold braids. “Nay. I fear I cannot marry you, as much as Iwould wish it. We must find another—mayhap a foreign prince—for youto marry. Someone who will not lust after the throne himself.”
Hattie’s jaw dropped and she glared at him.“That is preposterous! Surely you know I will never marry another?You are the only one in my heart.”
“As you are in mine,” he said, caressing hercheek. “But I am not of noble birth, and thus I am not suitable tobe your husband. We cannot reveal to anyone that you are not thereal Hatshepsut, so your husband’s background must be beyondquestion.”
“What do you mean, you are not suitable? Youare entirely suitable! I think I am capable of making thatdecision… especially after last night.” She grinned.
Senemut’s face remained stubbornly serious.“I am not of noble birth. A marriage between us would never beaccepted by the priests, the nobles, or the people. We havestretched their credibility to put you on the throne. They will notaccept a commoner married to a female pharaoh.”
“Blast the people!” she cried, throwing herhands up in the air. “I care not what they will accept. I refuse tomarry another. It would be a sacrilege to do so, for your love issacred to me. You are the only one I will ever love.”
“And you are my only love,” he repeatedpatiently. “But think, Hattie—what if there is a child?”
Hattie gasped. The issue of birth control hadtotally escaped her last night, and even had it not, there were noconveniently-situated pharmacies in this time and place. For allshe knew, she was carrying Senemut’s child at this moment. “I hadnot thought of that,” she confessed. “But, Senemut, I would bedelighted to bear your children, whether we can marry or not.” Shefirmly pushed away the thought of giving birth in this medicallyprimitive, germ-ridden era. She would cross that bridge when shecame to it.
“Nay, my love, you cannot bear my childrenunless you are married. That is why we must find you ahusband.”
“How can you expect me to marry a man I donot love? It would not be fair to him. It would not be fair to me!And to expect him to claim your children as his own, and raisethem…Senemut, that is too much to ask. Nay, I will not do it. If Icannot marry you, then I will not marry at all.”
Senemut sighed. “Then we must be surethere are no children.I will have my private physician prepare the necessary items, andyou must use them every time we…each time we aretogether.”
“Of course I will,” she agreed, silentlyamending, Ifthey aren’t too unpleasant. She had seen physicians use remedies that containedbull’s urine, crocodile dung, and other nasty ingredients, and shehad no intention of coming within shouting distance of one ofthose.
“And,” he continued relentlessly, “we mustmake sure there is no child now.”
“What do you mean?” Suspicion suddenly coiledaround her heart like a vise.
“I will have my physician make up an elixirthat will cause you to lose the baby, should there be one.” Hewinced as he spoke the words, and a spasm of grief passed over hisface.
“Nay, Senemut!” she cried. “If I carry yourchild now, I will not lose it. I will not!” She burst into tears.How could he ask such a thing of her? Her heart throbbed painfullyand felt like it would break. She had never craved a child, butsuddenly she wanted a child of Senemut’s, yearned for it with everyfiber of her being.
He gathered her in his arms. “It is hard, Iknow, little one,” he said, stroking her back and her hair. “Thewill of the gods is hard. But I fear it must be so.”
“Nay, I will not,” she sobbed. “I will not.If I bear your child, then I will raise it—and the gods bedamned!”
“Hush, now. You must not affront the gods,for their vengeance is swift. We shall wait a little, shall we?Mayhap it will not be necessary after all. Let us wait and see ifthere is a child.”
She sniffled and nodded against his chest.“Aye. We will wait.” But if I carry your child, I will find a way to keepit, she vowedsilently. Iwill not throw away the best thing that has happened to me, gods orno gods.
Fortunately for Hattie, there was no child.But she felt little relief, for there was an empty place in herheart that would have been filled by Senemut’s babies, and nowwould always be barren and lonely. Why had she traveled to thisaccursed century? Surely, not just to have her heart broken.Hatshepsut’s directives to her about protecting Tuthmosis anduncovering the traitors seemed distant and unimportant compared toher overwhelming grief.
Senemut tried to cheer her, but there waslittle he could do. The only ray of sunshine in her life was littleNeferure. Now that Hattie dared not bear children of her own, sheexpended all the maternal love she had on the child, who returnedit tenfold. In time, Neferure’s unreserved cheerfulness anddevotion healed the wound, and Hattie’s naturally buoyant spiritreturned. She would always carry a scar, but at least she had onechild to lavish her attention upon.
Senemut came to her one night a few weekslater, bearing the contraceptive devices his physician hadfashioned, carefully secreted in a small alabaster box.
“What are they made of?” She eyed the damp,gray wads of unidentifiable material suspiciously.
“They are wool, moistened with honey, andmixed with ground acacia and dates,” he explained. “Nothingmore.”
“Nothing more? Are you certain?” She liftedone out of the box and sniffed it cautiously. There was no telltaleodor of dung or other disagreeable ingredients. “And what am I todo with this…this sticky thing? Swallow it?”
Senemut burst into laughter. “Nay, rightbefore we…you must take it and place it in your…hai, never mind. I will show you.” He caught her upin his arms and carried her to the bed.
Hattie giggled. “Please do.”
“It is good to hear you laugh again!” Senemutexclaimed. “You have been so distraught these past few weeks, andit has pierced my heart like a dagger. I am glad to see joyreturning to your
