The Baby and the Battlefield

Chapter Sixty: Marcus and Mulberry Argue

Mulberry found herself pulling back involuntarily, shocked by Marcus' words.

“Wh-what?” she spluttered, staring at him.

“Marry me, please? Our lives wouldn’t be any different than they are now, except for a few small things.”

“Small things? Small?!” Mulberry’s mouth worked. The things a wife was expected to do for her husband were not, really, small things. Maybe Marcus wasn’t as naïve and inexperienced as she had thought, and this was a way to manipulate her, with an unexpected payoff she just wasn't seeing. Or maybe – just maybe – Marcus really did want to be more than her friend. Maybe he really did want her at his side, to help him, to support him, to love him. That second idea tempted her, but really, love and support were not 'a few small things', no matter how she looked at it.

Marcus awkwardly said, “Well, not small, but not that important. I would only expect you to give me one son. If we had one right off you’d never have to worry about me troubling you again, if you didn't want me to.”

“You want to have a son?” Mulberry asked in confusion. “With me?”

“If Rufus dies, I’m the heir, you see? And so I need a son. And father wants me to marry as soon as possible, and you’re here and you don’t hate me.”

Mulberry glared at him. Glaring was better than crying. Marcus didn't want her love and support; he wanted her purported ability to bear a child. An ability she doubted she even had – she had married at seventeen, after all, and in all the years between now and then, she had not become a mother.

Marcus misinterpreted the glare. “My father is alright with it, I’ve spoken to him – besides he couldn’t deny it after what he allowed Gaius. And it’s easy to manumit a slave to marry her. We could be married in a few days. I’ll have to go back to the 47th for a while, but father will buy out my commission, and in a few months we can be together.”

Mulberry shook her head, flustered, “No.”

“But, I will be kind and – and – “ Marcus’s face seemed to crumple, misery spreading across the formerly hopeful expression, “if you want, you could still leave, eventually. I’ll divorce you and give you anything I can afford for you to take with you. Property, dresses, jewels. I just need a son. For my family’s sake.”

With a deep breath,Mulberry stood and forced herself to speak the truth she was loath to admit.

“Marcus. I doubt that I could give you a son. I was married for eight years and I never had a child. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think that I could give you what you need. There isn't any point in you marrying me. So I refuse.”

Mulberry turned and ran for the door, not wanting to discuss this inability to perform what she felt was her duty.

As she left, Marcus sunk back down onto his chair, his head in his hands.