by Carol Ashby
Penelope’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her agreement. “Please excuse me, Father, Publius. I want to hold the new baby.” With another flash of her sweet smile, she moved away to join the other young women cooing over the new baby girl.
Publius watched her cuddle the baby. “Your daughter is charming. She reminds me of my own daughter, Claudia. They are the same age. It would be good for our girls to become acquainted.”
“If we had met sooner, yes, but Penelope will go to Thracia with Philip. My son has found three good Christian men for her, and she will choose the man she wants to wed.”
“You are fortunate to have so many choices. Claudia is almost seventeen. She should be betrothed by now, but I haven’t found even one man who would be the right husband for her.”
The corner of Aristarchus’s mouth lifted. “It can be a challenge.”
“Claudia has both my wife’s rare beauty and my love of learning. Her beauty is attracting the interest of many men―too many, in fact, and for the wrong reason. The problem is she’s likely to be much smarter than her husband, and most men don’t want that. I don’t want her to have to hide her intelligence or have her husband try to crush her love of learning.”
Aristarchus nodded. “My Ariadne is also very smart. I looked for a husband who would value that. God provided a man who is proud of her gifts.”
“There’s a bigger problem. When Claudia was three, her mother decided she didn’t want a scholar like me as her husband anymore. She divorced me and married a man who has power and influence with the Senate and the emperor. She wanted nothing to do with me or our children after that. My boys were older and didn’t care, but Claudia is still hurt by her abandonment. An unfaithful husband...I fear that would wound her heart beyond healing.
“To have her mother do that...” Aristarchus tightened his lips as he shook his head.
“I’ve always tried to let her know how much I love her to make up for her mother’s rejection, but a father can only do so much.”
Aristarchus nodded in sympathy. “A mother’s love―nothing can fully replace that.” He scanned the gathering until his gaze rested on Philip. “His mother’s love and care pulled Phillip through when he was burned.”
“These last three years, I’ve been a God-fearer. She isn’t, but I still want to find her a husband who worships the God of Israel, if I can. So far, I haven’t found a single man who fits all three requirements.”
“If she were a Christian, Philip would be the perfect husband for her. He enjoys the company of very smart people, and no one is kinder or more faithful.”
Publius glanced at Philip. He would have been ugly even without the scars. With them, ugly was too kind a description. Claudia always mentioned handsome first when describing the ideal man.
“Yes, that’s exactly what Claudia needs, but I don’t want her living so far away. I would almost never see her if she moved to Thracia. I need to find someone who lives nearby.”
Publius had no doubt that Philip was a kind, faithful, smart man who wouldn’t be intimidated by his daughter’s intelligence, but there was one glaring problem. Claudia would be repulsed by his appearance. A rare beauty like her would never want to be married to a man so ugly she couldn’t bear to look at him. It was hard to imagine that any young woman would.
Publius was beaming as he entered his house. The slave who opened the door scarcely had time to step back before Publius placed his hands on both his shoulders.
“It’s a great day. Best ever.”
The doorkeeper’s eyes saucered. “Yes, master.”
His slave’s surprise drew an even bigger grin. “Where’s Malleolus?”
“He left for the northern estate shortly after you left this morning, master. He hasn’t returned yet. He expected to be gone until tomorrow.”
“As soon as he returns, tell him I have something exciting to tell him.”
The slave bowed his head. “Yes, master, as soon as he returns.”
Publius hurried away to look for Claudia. He stuck his head into the library first. That was usually the best place to start looking. Their mutual love of learning was the thing he enjoyed most about his precious girl. The many hours they’d spent together as he taught her had been pure pleasure. If she had been a boy, he could have shown off her intelligence to his scholarly friends. As a girl, she wouldn’t have been welcomed. Too bad; she was smarter than most of the men in that elite group.
The soft sound of a lyre drew him into the garden. Claudia was reclining on a couch, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips.
Publius paused beside the musician. “That’s enough for now.” Aristarchus’s warning echoed in his memory. He would speak with her alone.
The musician bowed and left the two of them alone in the garden.
Claudia opened her eyes and sat up. “You look so happy, Father. What has you smiling today?”
“Remember yesterday when I was telling you about how the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem was such a problem for me? Well, it isn’t a problem at all. Not for anyone. The temple was no longer needed for sacrifices because sacrifices were no longer needed. Jesus of Nazareth made the final and perfect sacrifice for my sins, for everyone’s sins for all time.”
Claudia was gazing up at his face. He picked up both her hands as he stood before her.
“I don’t ever have to worry about being able to approach God again. I’ve accepted Jesus as my Savior. I’ve met God...I actually met Him today. He’s right here with me, right now.”
Claudia’s eyebrows shot up. Then she lowered them and tipped her head. “You met God?”
“Yes. I wish I could explain to you how that feels. I never imagined it was possible. It’s…it’s…I just can’t find the words right now.”
She bit her lip before taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say either. I’ve always thought your god would be pleased to meet you. Anyone would.”
Publius laid his hand on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “I know that sounds insane to you, but it’s not. Before you understand, we’ll have to talk more about why I need a savior, why you need a savior.”
“We’ll have to do that, Father.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. When it came back to his eyes, her unease was too obvious.
“You don’t want to right now, do you.”
Claudia paused. “Not really, Father.” She offered a weak smile. “But we can if you want to.”
Publius leaned over and kissed her forehead. She wasn’t any readier to understand today than she had been yesterday. Now was not the time. “We can talk later when you’re ready.”
Claudia’s relief was palpable as her smile broadened. “Later sounds good.”
Publius gently squeezed her hand before letting it go. He turned and walked back into the house. She wouldn’t listen to the truth yet, but as soon as she let him tell her, anyone as smart as Claudia would surely understand and turn to Jesus as Lord.
Chapter 7: Unsuitable Prospects
Publius was in his library the next morning when the door slave came to him.
“Master, you have a visitor. Flavius Sabinus is here, and I have seated him in the atrium.”
Publius’s eyes narrowed. Sabinus had never visited before, so why would the notorious political manipulator visit now? His wealth was legendary, and he used it without scruples. He had the ear of many in the Senate and even of Emperor Trajan himself.
Publius’s nose twitched as if assaulted by the stench of a rotting carcass, but he put on a pleasant face as he entered the atrium. Even when he despised a man, he treated him with respect.
“Flavius Sabinus. This is a surprise. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Sabinus smiled at him. Calculating eyes, stiff lips exposing crooked teeth―the resemblance to a crocodile was unmistakable. That seemed appropriate. If even half of what Publius had heard about Sabinus was true, he and the crocodile had more signific
ant similarities than their smiles.
“Ah, Claudius Drusus. It’s good to see you again. I understand you often speak about history in the forum, but I haven’t had the time lately to have the pleasure of hearing you.”
“I believe you’re better known for making history than for studying it, Sabinus.”
Sabinus’s smile warmed at what he took for a compliment. “True. Very true.”
Then fake sadness dragged his mouth down. “You may have heard of the tragic, untimely death of my dear wife.” He drew a deep breath to support the sigh he added for dramatic effect.
“My condolences to your children and to you, Sabinus. I’d heard that your wife was a very loving mother. Her children must be missing her.” Publius ignored most gossip, but he believed the rumors that Sabinus had beaten his wife badly enough to cause the miscarriage of what would have been their sixth child...and her death.
“That is true, and a man must consider remarrying quickly when he has children to care for. I am deeply grieved, but life must go on.”
Publius watched Sabinus’s eyes. He was about the same age as Publius and had been an infamous womanizer for years. Not even a flicker of warmth was there to mask his indifference to his children’s suffering caused by their mother’s death.
“That’s why I’ve come to you, Drusus. I know your Claudia is an extraordinarily beautiful woman. I hear, too, that she is a very kind woman who would be a wonderful mother to another woman’s children. I would like to discuss her becoming my next wife.”
Publius’s inner urge was to strike Sabinus for that offensive request and throw him out of his house. To even suggest that he would marry his daughter to this wife-beating old lecher was an insult to his honor as a father. Instead, he responded graciously.
“Claudia is only sixteen. She’s still very much a child herself. I don’t think she’s ready to be a mother.”
Publius’s attempt to deflect the proposal made Sabinus’s eyes even more eager. “A child? I think not. I’ve seen no other with more womanly charms.” The crocodile smile accompanied his shrug. “But children can always be cared for by slaves. If she wanted, she could simply be my wife.”
Publius had managed to keep his face passive, but any desire to make the refusal gracious was gone.
“It’s my intention to marry her to a man closer to her own age. Neither you nor I are young men anymore, Sabinus.”
“True. But young men can’t afford to express their appreciation of her unique beauty like I can. Even 50,000 denarii would not be more than I would consider offering for her.”
Publius placed his hands behind his back so Sabinus wouldn’t see his fist clench. “Money can’t change my decision, Sabinus. My daughter is not a slave to be sold to the highest bidder.” Publius’s eyes flashed as he frowned at Sabinus.
“I would never suggest that you would sell your daughter, Drusus. I only meant to express my great admiration and appreciation of her worth.”
“There really is nothing more for us to discuss in this matter. You’re just not a suitable husband for my Claudia.” Publius forced a calm voice and demeanor even though he wanted to grab Sabinus by the back of his tunic and hurl him out the door. “I’m sure you have other pressing business, so I won’t detain you here any longer.”
Drusus’s summary dismissal was oil on hot coals, but Sabinus masked his anger. It never paid to get an enemy’s guard up too soon, and he was expert at manipulating men of the highest rank. He would marry the unparalleled beauty, even if it took a while to find the key to swaying her father. Crocodiles are patient when waiting for their prey. All it took was one small weakness to be revealed, and then...
“Quite right. I’m on my way to the imperial palace, and I shouldn’t delay any longer.”
Sabinus offered his most gracious smile before turning and walking away. The door slave opened the door and bowed deeply as he walked out.
After the door closed, Sabinus glanced back. He would have Claudia Drusilla as his wife. No one said no to him like that and got away with it.
Publius was furious with Sabinus for trying to buy Claudia, but his visit did focus Publius’s attention back on the problem he’d rather ignore. Claudia was sixteen. Most Roman girls were married or at least betrothed by her age. As much as he would love to have her live with him for the rest of his life, that wasn’t right for her. It was time to get serious about finding her a good husband.
Back in his library, he settled into his desk chair and picked up the gold-tipped ivory stylus. As he rolled it between his fingers, his lips tightened. There must be some young man who’d make a proper husband for Claudia.
“You wanted to see me, master?”
Malleolus’s greeting pulled a smile. Publius had freed him years before, but “master” had remained the steward’s most common mode of address even though he’d been told he should use Publius. He waved his hand at the chair across the desk from his own. “Sit a while. We need to talk.”
Malleolus lowered himself into the chair and leaned forward. “Is there a problem?”
“I just had a most unpleasant visitor.”
“Flavius Sabinus? I passed him as I was entering our street. He didn’t look happy.”
“He had the gall to offer me 50,000 denarii if I would let him marry Claudia.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Men like him think they can buy anything.”
“Well, he’ll never have my precious girl.”
“No, he won’t.”
“But I do need to find her a husband. A good man who’ll care for her when I’m gone. A man who’ll appreciate her intelligence and never do anything to betray her trust. But who can that be?”
Publius ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “She just suggested Decimus Lentulus. I considered him once myself. He was here so often with Titus that he was almost my son already, and I knew he’d be a faithful husband. He’s a smart man himself, and he would enjoy having a smart wife.”
Malleolus nodded his approval. “He’s a fine man. Except for Titus, I can think of none better.”
Publius started rolling the stylus again. “I even approached his father with the idea just before he left for his post as governor of Germania Superior. The first girl betrothed to Decimus died before they could marry, and Tiberius hadn’t lined up another wife yet.” Publius smiled wryly as he remembered. “Tiberius graciously declined my request.”
He hadn’t told Malleolus this before, and the astonishment that anyone would turn down Claudia as a daughter-in-law showed on his steward’s face.
“You needn’t be so surprised. He was right. It really wouldn’t be a good match. Decimus is destined for a political life. He needs a worldly wife to help him navigate the shoals of Roman power. She needs to be a reader of people, not a reader of poetry, and a woman able to entertain dishonorable men without either offending them by her own high standards or being dragged to their low level. Claudia’s never going to be that type of woman.”
“No, she would never be happy in that life.”
“It’s a problem that she’s even more beautiful than her mother was. I was enthralled by that beauty when I was only fourteen. It’s why I was so glad when my father arranged for me to marry her, but what did I get? A hot-tempered, selfish, cold-hearted beast inside a beautiful shell.” He shook his head as he gazed out the window. “Life can be misery when you marry the wrong person.”
He focused on Malleolus again. “Too many men want Claudia for her beauty alone. I’m not going to make the mistake of letting her marry that kind of man. She’s so much more than an ornament to satisfy some man’s vanity.”
Publius ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “What am I going to do? I haven’t been able to think of a single man who’s worthy of her, who’ll treasure her like she deserves.”
“I don’t know who, but there must be such a man. A man like you or Titus.”
“There must be, but we n
eed to find him soon. I’m not a young man, and I don’t want Lucius making the choice.”
One corner of Publius’s mouth lifted. He was approaching this the wrong way. God would help him find the right man for his precious girl. Thinking was good, but praying was better.
“We don’t need to solve this today, but keep thinking about it. I have something much more important to tell you.”
“Is it what you mentioned yesterday as you were leaving?”
“Yes. I met someone at the synagogue who knew the answer to why God let the sacrifices be stopped when His temple in Jerusalem was destroyed. It’s all so simple once you know the answer.” He chuckled. “So many difficult questions are that way―totally obvious once you know the answer.”
“What is the answer?”
Malleolus was not a philosopher, but for many years he’d been the sounding board for Publius’s ideas before he presented them to his scholar friends. Publius valued the practical intelligence of his talented steward as he refined his thoughts. He grinned as he anticipated his friend’s response to the logical solution to the ultimate problem.
“Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth was the final sacrifice made almost forty years before the temple was destroyed. God Himself came as a man and made the final sacrifice so the temple was unnecessary. It actually got in the way by letting men think they still needed to make animal sacrifices for their sins.”
Malleolus had been nodding his head as he listened, as was his custom in such discussions. He stopped nodding, and his face turned grave.
Publius’s mouth curved at the transformation. “Yes, you understood me. I’ve moved past being merely a God-fearer. I’ve become a Christian.”
“That’s a dangerous choice.”
“I know. I was warned to be careful whom I told, but I know I can trust you with anything, and I need people to share my happiness. Claudia knows, too, but no one else. Would you like to hear more right now?”
Malleolus took a deep breath. “If you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”
