“But…who does the house work?” she asked at last. “The cooking and cleaning and raising the children if they and their husbands both work outside the home?”
Brand shrugged.
“They share it, of course. That’s only fair, since they both work out of the home. Of course, you don’t have to get a job if you’re not comfortable with it,” he added quickly. “Everyone makes a living wage here aboard the Mother Ship and my career as a pilot will support our family…when we have one,” he added softly.
“A family…” Allara bit her lip. He meant children and now that she knew exactly how children came about, she wasn’t too eager to discuss such things.
“Are you all right?” Brand leaned down to peer anxiously into her face. “You turned pale when I mentioned having kids.”
“I…I will be fine,” Allara said quickly. “This is just…a lot to consider.”
“If you decide you want to train to do something outside the domicile, you can. Or you can stay home.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “It’s completely up to you.”
At that moment, as if on cue, Kat came back with several people dressed in black, formal looking clothing trailing her.
“Lauren is getting the cake table all settled,” she said to Allara. “But I thought you’d like to meet the string quartet I hired from Earth to play at your wedding.”
“String quartet?” Allara asked, looking at the group of assembled people. There were two men, who must be from Earth, since they were smaller than the Kindred, and two women. All four of them were carrying elaborately carved wooden boxes that had long strings stretched tightly over them. Some of the boxes were much bigger than others and all had long handles on them.
“Hi there,” one of the women said, smiling at Allara. “I’m Selena Bates and this is our quartet. We usually stay in the background but Kat, here, said you really liked our rendition of Pachelbel’s Cannon.”
“Oh, the music!” Allara clasped her hands to her chest. “It was so beautiful! Every note was true. What instruments did you use—please tell me!”
“Well, I play first violin,” the woman called Selena told her. “And George, here, plays second violin. Tamara plays viola and John is on the cello.”
As she spoke, she lifted the wooden box which had a long handle on it, as though to illustrate her point.
“That is your instrument?” Allara asked. “Your…vio-lin?”
“Sure.” With an easy smile, the Earth woman tucked the wooden instrument beneath her chin, raised a long stick, and began to use it on the strings to make a sweet, haunting sound that went straight through Allara’s body as a long, lovely shiver.
“Ohhh,” she whispered, closing her eyes as the music tugged at her. “So beautiful.”
“Well, thank you.” Selena stopped playing and smiled at her. “Kat told us you were from a culture where music is very important.”
“There is nothing more important,” Allara said earnestly. “But I do not understand why you are allowed to play an instrument—you are a woman.”
“Well, yes, I am…” Selena looked as though she didn’t understand Allara’s question.
“My new bride comes from a very strict culture,” Brand said, explaining for her. “Apparently women are not allowed to be musicians there.”
“Oh, how sad!” The Earth woman looked truly upset by this idea. “I can’t imagine my life without music,” she said.
“Oh, women are permitted to have music—but only through song,” Allara told her. “But I envy you—truly I do. When I was young, before I knew any better, I dreamed of being a musician and playing an instrument—though we have nothing like these vio-lins you have, among my people, the Q’ess.”
“Well, it’s never too late to start taking lessons,” Selena offered. “I wouldn’t mind giving you some—I’ll take any excuse to stay aboard the Mother Ship,” she added, grinning. “The guest suite they have us staying in is way nicer than my apartment back home.”
“You would teach me to play an instrument?” Allara could hardly believe it.
She could still vividly recall the day she learned she could not have her dream. When she had mentioned it, as a child of five, her aunt had slapped her.
“Foolish girl!” she’d shouted into Allara’s crying face. “Don’t you know what a sacrilege it would be to allow a woman to play an instrument? The Gods would curse you for even thinking such a thing!”
And now, here was an Earth woman offering to teach her to play as casually as Brand had offered to make bread with her. What was wrong with these people that they didn’t know their correct places?
“I wish I could,” she said sadly. “But…I should not.”
But still, she was tempted. Very, very tempted. She couldn’t set up lessons, though. She wouldn’t even be alive by this time tomorrow! And neither would Brand. The thought made her look quickly at her new husband, only to see that he was looking at her with deep interest in his golden eyes.
“Allara, don’t let your past dictate your future,” he rumbled softly. “There’s no one here aboard the Mother Ship that will say it’s wrong for you to take lessons. If you want them, I’ll be happy to pay Selena’s fee.”
His words surprised her all over again. He would pay for her to have something that a woman should not have? Something forbidden but so desirable every part of her ached for it?
“I…do not know what to say,” she said at last, shaking her head.
“Well, think about it. We’ll be here through the reception, if that’s all right with you?” Selena asked.
“Oh yes—please stay!” Allara nodded. “Your presence is a blessing and an honor to our marriage,” she added earnestly.
“In fact, would you mind playing something else while we cut the cake?” Brand asked them. “Just something soft and delicate to set the mood?”
“Of course.” Selena smiled at them both. “It would be our pleasure. We’ll just set up in the corner, here.”
Allara watched them eagerly as they arranged themselves on some chairs and began making the soft, sweet sounds from their instruments again.
“You really like them, huh?” Brand was studying her with great interest, as though he was trying to learn about her.
“Their music is beyond anything I have ever heard before,” Allara told him. “Thank you for asking them to stay. On my planet, we have no vio-lins.”
“What kinds of instruments do your musicians play, then?” he asked.
“Oh, many different kinds of horns,” she said, thinking again of how his deep, resonant voice reminded her of her favorite, the moun horn. “And drums, of course, to keep the beat. Flutes made of the leg bones of the gorth stork—things like that.”
“Very interesting,” Brand murmured. “I would love to hear some of your people’s music some day.”
“Oh, you would never be allowed!” Allara said, before she thought better of it. “An ev—an infidel must never hear the music of our Song Houses.”