“I don’t think that will work.”
“Why not?”
“Because …” He shook his head, as frustrated as she was. “Because the likelihood of you actually having something to offer in the future is so slim. Do you think you’re suddenly going to come into an inheritance? Discover some long-lost family heirlooms?”
“You don’t need to sound so dismissive.”
“I’m trying to be realistic.”
“But would it hurt to try?”
He groaned. “I don’t … I don’t know. Maybe not. Just let me think.”
“We don’t have time for this! This is so much straw; it’s already going to take most of the night, and if he comes back and I’ve failed, you know what will happen to me.”
“I know. Iknow.” He crossed his arms over his chest, glowering at nothing. “There must be something. But—great gods, Serilda. What about next time? And after that? This can’t go on forever.”
“I don’t know! I’ll think of something.”
“You’ll think of something? It’s been months. Do you think he’s suddenly going to get bored with you? Just let you go?”
“I said I would think of something!” She was shouting now, the first hints of desperation clawing at her. For the first time it occurred to her that Gild might actually sayno.
He might leave her. The work undone. Her fate sealed.
Because she had nothing more to offer.
“Anything,” she whispered, reaching for him, gripping his wrists. “Please.Do this for me one more time and I’ll give you …” A thought struck her and she let out an exalted laugh. “I’ll give you my firstborn child!”
He balked. “What?”
She gave a chagrined smile, a helpless shrug. And though the words had been said in jest, she was already beginning to wonder.
Her firstborn child.
The likelihood that she would ever conceive a child was so minuscule. Ever since the fiasco with Thomas Lindbeck, she’d felt resigned to a future of solitude. And given that the only other boy who had captured her interest wasdead…
What did it matter if she promised away a nonexistent child?
“Assuming I live long enough to birth any children,” she said. “Even you have to admit that’s a good deal. What could possibly be more valuable than a child?”
He held her gaze, his expression intense and, she thought, just the tiniest bit saddened.
Under the soft fabric of his sleeves, she imagined that she could feel his pulse. But no, it was only her own heartbeat, fluttering in her fingers. And in the sudden silence, she caught the tremulous rhythm of her own shallow breaths.
The moments ticking by, too fast.
The candle flickering in the corner.
The spinning wheel, waiting.
Gild shivered and tore his gaze from her face. He looked down at her hands, then pried his arms away.
Serilda released him, heart sinking.
But in the next moment, he’d taken her fingers into his. His head lowered, avoiding her gaze, as he wrapped his fingers around hers.
“You are very persuasive.”