“Yozef, Godsday is two days from now. I can plan on being in Abersford to attend the abbey services . . . if you have no other plans.” Bronwyn looked at him expectantly.
“No, Bronwyn. No other plans. I look forward to your company at the service and hospitality at my house.” And the bedroom later.
She appeared at the abbey complex just before the Godsday service began. Yozef had attended many services, but he wasn’t a regular. It had been left open whether he would accompany her to the service or meet later. By default, he met her in front of the cathedral when she rode up on a bay mare. He had seen side-saddles here for women, but Bronwyn rode astride with a pantaloons-style skirt encasing her legs. Once she dismounted, a curtain of cloth held behind her while riding was wrapped around her legs to appear as a skirt, the pantaloons hidden beneath.
They entered the cathedral together and sat together in the middle of the pew rows. Yozef felt every eye following them, even if they weren’t. However, some were, and among the raised eyebrows included those of Cadwulf and Filtin, followed by a friendly smile from the former and a leer from the latter, which drew a sharp elbow from Filtin’s wife.
Yozef often worked part of every Godsday, but he and Bronwyn spent the day in his cottage, mainly in the bedroom. He told the Faughns he wouldn’t need Elian to prepare meals that day, a task Bronwyn took on.
The low afternoon sun shone through a window onto Bronwyn sleeping from their last coupling. It was the first time he’d seen her unclothed in full light. When he first arrived on Caedellium, women’s armpit and leg hair was disconcerting, but by now it seemed normal, and it was the idea of shaving that seemed odd. Bronwyn’s hair was only a shade darker than her parts tanned by the sun, the hairs on her calves becoming sparse above the knees. Not that the hair mattered. Yozef found other of her parts to keep his attention.
Chapter 28: Not to Be
They followed the same pattern the next four sixdays—Yozef arriving at Bronwyn’s farm in time for evening meal, staying two nights, and returning to Abersford the second morning— Bronwyn coming to his house the evening before Godsday and returning the morning after Godsday.
Neither spoke of commitment. He liked Bronwyn. She was honest, hard-working, and level-headed, all traits he would expect of a single woman running a large farm. He wasn’t sure of her view of him, but she clearly respected him as a prominent Abersford figure. They satisfied a mutual need, his part being hard to fake and her enthusiasm unquestioned. However, they had little else in common, except for one possible complication.
What if she gets pregnant? Contraception certainly wasn’t on my mind that first night, but as far as I know, there’s no such thing here. It might even be forbidden to try to prevent pregnancy, what with the way they emphasize caring for children. Well, shit. What should I do?
The time spent with Bronwyn impacted Yozef’s various enterprises. Several projects languished by his diversion a good part of each sixday, and workers were becoming impatient for decisions and directions.
As sixdays passed, the advantages and doubts about their relationship weighed more and more on Yozef. Did Bronwyn think this was leading to a long-term commitment, even marriage? What would be her response when she realized it wouldn’t happen? At times, he felt he was taking advantage of her, but he knew that was a holdover from how he might have viewed things back on Earth. Customs were different on Caedellium, and she’d started the affair, with his acquiescence. These uncertainties led him to seek out someone who had previously offered advice, Filtin.
The opportunity to get Filtin alone came after being shown his crew’s latest distillation column, a multi-jointed one some eight feet tall with a maze of connecting piping. After the inspection and progress report, the other workers left for a mid-morning kava break, leaving Yozef and Filtin alone.
“Somehow, Yozef, I don’t believe the distillation equipment is what you needed to talk with me about.”
“No. It’s not about business. I need the advice of a friend.”
Filtin’s cheerful manner took on a more serious tone. “What is it, Yozef? How can I help?”
“It’s Bronwyn.”
“Ah. I’ve wondered how that’s going. You two aren’t starting to argue, are you?”
“No, no. Not that. I’m just worrying about what she expects of this and if I’m in trouble with Caedellium customs and laws in such matters. I’m wondering whether what we’ve been doing is taken to mean the intention for something long term.”
“Has she spoken of this?”
“No, not a word.”
“How long have you two been bedding? And how often?”
“Over a month, and four nights a sixday.”
Filtin grunted. “Four nights? I thought you seemed a little more tired some days than before, and everyone has talked about how you’re seldom around the shops.” Filtin thought for a moment, then asked bluntly, “What are your intentions? It sounds like you’re thinking about when it’ll end.”
“There’s nothing long term, as far as I’m concerned. I respect Bronwyn. She’s doing an admirable job running her farm, and she’s honest as could be. But our paths are just too different. It has to end sometime, although I don’t have any idea when. I’m also concerned about what if a child comes from this? If that happens, what commitment would that put on me?”
“The child part is easy,” said Filtin. “Everyone knows the two of you are bedding, so if a child comes, you’ll be acknowledged as the father by everyone and the law. What that means is that you’ll be expected to assist raising of the child. If you don’t marry her, which I hear you’d not want to do, then she’d raise the child, and you’d provide support both for the child and her lost time in working the farm. The provision could be in coin, providing a worker for the farm, or some other arrangement that either the two of you’d agree on or would be determined by a magistrate, if you couldn’t agree. From knowing you and from what I know of Bronwyn, I wouldn’t anticipate it going to the magistrate.”
“So there’d be no requirement for me to marry her?”
“Why would there be? She’s a grown woman. A widow who owns her own farm. You’re a grown man with businesses of your own. What the two of you do in bed is your own concern, as long as any child is cared for.” After a moment, Filtin added, “Something you might consider is that it might not entirely be your overwhelming charm and sexual appeal she’s interested in. A child might have been part of her intention.”
Yozef stirred, startled. He’d considered the possibility of a child, but not that it might be Bronwyn’s deliberate plan.
“Why hasn’t she said anything? I just said a moment ago how honest she is, but if she’s planned this from the beginning, that’s deceitful.”
Filtin shook his head. “Not necessarily. She knows you’re not from Caedellium, but she might assume you understand the customs better than you do. I take it she was forthright inviting you to her bed.”
Yozef nodded.
“I suggest you simply ask her. Remember, she’s unmarried, and the farm has been in her family for generations. If she doesn’t have children, there’ll be no one to pass it on to and no one to care for her in her old age. Then there’s the need most women have for children.”
“If she has such a need, why not find another husband? I would expect she’s a prime candidate for marriage.”
“She would be, if there were more unmarried men.”
Then it came back to Yozef, what Cadwulf told him after the trial of the Camrin man for abusing his family, and the poor prospects for the wife to remarry once the court dissolved the marriage.