Daughter of Jerusalem by Joan Wolf

like one of your own.”
    His words struck a chord in my heart. I wanted very much to have a child—a child to love, to teach, to give my life a purpose. The desire was so strong that at times it was an ache. I thought I had reconciled myself to the fact that it would never happen as long as Aaron lived. But at his words, it was as if my very womb was calling out to me to be filled.
    We stared at each other across the table. He read the emotions warring visibly across my face, and he nodded. “I don’t think this is the time for you to go to Bethany. I think it will be much better if you remain here in Sepphoris and continue your visits to Julia Tiberia.”

    I went outside to the garden and sat for a long time. Who would I be wronging if I followed Aaron’s wishes? I thought of Marcus. Would I be wronging him?
    I had no illusions that Marcus loved me. He desired me because I was a beautiful woman, and because I had put him off, I’d become even more attractive. I was sure Marcus Novius Claudius wasn’t accustomed to being refused much of anything.
    How far I had come from the innocent girl who had dreamed of marrying Daniel. How simple and pure my love for Daniel had been. I didn’t love Marcus, at least not in the way I’d loved Daniel, but I wanted to sleep with him. It was time to be honest, and that was the truth. He stirred me deeply, and I wanted to find out what it might be like to have that sort of man make love to me.
    Pain pierced my heart as I thought of what my life would have been like if I’d married Daniel. One thing I knew: I would most certainly never be contemplating sinning against my husband. Tears sprang to my eyes.
    Stop this
, I told myself.
You’re a grown woman, and you know that if you wait for someone to hand you happiness on a golden plate, you’ll wait forever. God isn’t interested in your little life, Mary. It’s up to you to grasp whatever happiness you can find and perhaps you can find some happiness with Marcus. Perhaps . . . oh, perhaps . . . there might even be a baby.
    I was still sitting in the garden when a servant arrived with a note for me from Julia Tiberia. She wrote that she’d received some bad news, and my company would be immensely comforting to her. Could I come tonight before sunset?
    I wrote back immediately that of course I would be there.

    I arrived at julia’s door at the appointed time, and the porter opened at my first knock. “My mistress is waiting for you in the garden, my lady,” he said. “Shall I summon someone to show you out?”
    I smiled. “No need for that, Plutus, I know my way.”
    He nodded and went back into the porter’s box beside the door.
    I walked the long length of the deserted atrium and then through the peristylum, which was empty as well. No slaves carrying water or newly washed linens were in sight, which was unusual. The large garden doors were open, however, and I stepped through them into the sweet, flower-scented air. The only sound was the trickling of water from the fountain. I looked for Julia, but she wasn’t there.
    I called her name, but it wasn’t Julia who emerged from behind the statue of Venus holding a seashell. It was Marcus.
    I was shocked. And angry. It was one thing for me to decide I might wish to be closer to Marcus, and another for Julia to put me into this kind of position.
    I could feel the color flaming in my cheeks, and when he stood in front of me I said coldly, “I must tell you I had nothing to do with this meeting. I thought I was coming to see Julia.”
    His short black hair was still damp from the baths. His lion’s eyes were drinking me in. He said, “I asked Julia to arrange this, Mary. She was kind enough to accommodate me.”
    My lips parted.
    “Don’t look so surprised. Surely you know how I feel about you. How obsessed I have become with you. I have been reduced to using a go-between, and I assure you that is not something I’ve ever done before. But”—his voice