by Carol Ashby
“I want her gone from this house when I return. Sell her.”
“Yes, master.”
Titus stormed out of the kitchen, mounted his horse, and kicked it into a trot.
Claudia reached the kitchen just in time to see Titus strike Miriam the second time and order Nestor to sell her. She ran out the door after him.
“Titus! Wait! Please! You can’t sell her.”
He ignored her and disappeared through the gate before she could reach him. She stopped at the gate, staring at his back as he rode away. She would have run after him, but he’d already kicked his horse into a canter. She had no chance of catching him.
When she returned to the kitchen, she knelt beside Miriam and drew her into her arms. Tears streamed down both women’s cheeks.
“Oh, Miriam, I can’t lose you. What are we going to do?”
Miriam clung to Mistress Claudia as deep, racking sobs shook her. How could she bear to leave the mistress she loved like a sister? And how could the master she’d come to trust and even love strike her so cruelly and sell her with no warning, like she meant less than nothing to him?
She thought nothing could ever hurt more than watching her beloved Master Alexander die. She was wrong.
Nestor stepped closer. “Don’t worry, mistress. Master Philip will buy her and keep her safe until you can persuade the master to buy her back.”
Mistress looked up, and hope lit her face. “You’re right. Philip would want to protect Miriam until she can be with me again.”
“He would do anything he possibly could for you, mistress. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
Mistress stood and helped Miriam to her feet. It was the first time she’d ever been helping Miriam instead of Miriam helping her.
“I’m sure I can convince Titus after he calms down. It should only be for a day or two.”
Miriam’s chin quivered. “I hope so, mistress.” Tears still dribbled down her cheeks. “I don’t want to serve anyone but you.”
She’d loved serving the master as well, but that was over. His blows hadn’t just bruised her face. They’d crushed her heart.
The mistress turned to Nestor with an air of authority Miriam had never seen before.
“All right then. Philip’s not back yet, but go arrange it with his steward. Penelope will authorize it if he won’t do it on your word alone. You can take Miriam there a little while before my brother is expected to return this evening. I want to keep my sister with me as long as I can today.” She turned and stroked Miriam’s hair. “Let’s go take care of that cut.”
“Yes, mistress.” Nestor bowed and left for Philip’s house.
Mistress Claudia kept her arm around Miriam as they climbed the stairs to her bedchamber to clean the blood from Miriam’s face.
“My brother can be such a fool sometimes, but when he calms down, I’m sure he’ll listen to reason and want you back.”
Miriam had known the love she had for Master Titus would never be returned. She was only the slave, and he was the master. He joked enough about what he paid for her that she knew he always thought of her that way. She’d always shown him the deference due a master, even when he talked to her like she was a person instead of property. She’d never done anything to make him suspect her true feelings.
But she had thought he cared about her and appreciated how faithfully she served both him and the mistress. It pierced her heart to know someone she loved so much could value her so little that he’d sell her to anyone who wanted to buy her, no matter what they wanted her for. Only a few days ago, he’d called her a treasure, and now he’d cast her off like garbage.
She touched her cheek, and her finger came away with blood on it. She’d never been hit so hard, not even by her first cruel mistress. The master wouldn’t even have treated his horse that way. Even if Mistress Claudia convinced him to buy her back, how could she bear to see him every day, knowing she meant nothing to him? There would be no more pleasure in serving him. Instead, she’d live in fear, never knowing when he’d strike again.
.
As Titus turned off their street onto the main road, his anger cooled. As it did, the enormity of what he’d just done struck him. He wasn’t so much angry at Claudia for becoming a Christian as he was afraid of what that could mean for her safety, now and in the future. He loved Claudia more than anything. He wanted her safe, but he also wanted her happy. What he’d just done was take away the person who mattered to her most.
What was selling her beloved slave going to do to Claudia? Miriam really had rescued his sister from her night terrors and the deep sadness that made her want to cry all the time. Would Claudia go back to the way she was before Miriam came? His sister really loved her, and whatever hurt Miriam would hurt his sister almost as much. Would she ever forgive him for selling her beloved companion who was so much more to her than a slave?
He was ashamed of himself for hitting Miriam, not once but twice and very hard both times. He’d prided himself on never hurting a slave in anger, and he’d done just that to the most loyal slave he’d ever known. She did anything he asked of her, even when her ankle made it hard. She deserved kind treatment if any slave ever did. The look in her eyes as she lay on the floor after his second blow haunted him. And then he’d ordered her sold.
What kind of person was going to buy a crippled slave, and what would they do with her? His stomach twisted at the thought of what might happen to her. By now, Nestor may have taken her to sell, and he didn’t even know where. He might not have gone to the slave traders. He could get more money selling her himself, and Nestor always tried to get the best deal. But maybe Nestor hadn’t taken her away yet, and he could still stop the sale if he got home soon enough.
He wheeled his horse and galloped back toward his house. He would just have to be late for duty today.
Titus rode through the gate and dismounted. There was no sign of Nestor in the stable area or gardens.
“Nestor!” Titus walked through the kitchen and into the inner courtyard. No answer. “Nestor!”
He climbed the stairs and trotted to the end of the balcony to see if he could spot him. If he could figure out which way Nestor had taken her, he might be able to catch up with them before the sale.
Miriam was in Mistress Claudia’s room when the two girls heard Titus searching. Mistress placed her finger on her lips to warn Miriam to make no sound as he hurried past her closed door. They heard him go to the end of the balcony, then trot back along the balcony past her door a second time.
“Nestor!” His voice came faintly through the window; he was back in the stable area.
Mistress took her hand. “I’ve been praying that Titus would change his mind, and here he is. He’s come back to stop Nestor from selling you.”
“Maybe, mistress, but he was so angry with me...I don’t think he wants me anymore.”
“Didn’t you tell me God can change hearts? God knows we need you here. Titus needs you just as much as I do. It’s just harder for men to see what they need.”
Miriam offered a weak smile, but she wasn’t convinced. She’d seen the fury in his eyes and felt the force of his blows. He didn’t need or want her anymore, even if he once had.
Titus took hold of his stallion’s reins and rested his forehead against its back. He was too late. Nestor was gone, and he had no idea where to even start looking. If they’d gone to the main slave market, he should have passed them on the road. But Nestor knew shortcuts, so he might have missed them.
At that moment, Titus was sorry Nestor was a careful steward who always got the best deal he could. With her being a cripple, only the brothels were likely to pay a good price. Would Nestor be willing to sell a sweet girl like Miriam to one of those just to get the highest price? Had he taken her directly there to cut out the middle man? Would he have thought to sell her as a cook or musician instead? He’d told Nestor she had to be sold that day, so there wouldn’t be time to shop her ar
ound to find a good place for her at a good price.
He closed his eyes as regret and shame coursed through him.
“Master. I didn’t expect you back this morning.”
Titus spun to see Nestor coming from the gate. He was alone. “Have you sold her already?”
“I’ve arranged for someone to buy her, but she’s still here.”
Titus breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Cancel the sale. Claudia can keep her. No one seems to be in the house, so they’re probably together somewhere. Find them and tell them.”
“Yes, master.”
“And tell Miriam I’m looking forward to another of her delicious dinners tonight.”
There. That should tell her he valued her service without him having to apologize for his stupid decision to sell her. It wouldn’t be right to apologize to a slave.
He mounted his horse and cantered out the gate. If he hurried, he’d get to the palace only a little late. It was worth it to still have Miriam in his household.
Nestor’s smile morphed into a huge grin as Master Titus disappeared through the gate. God had solved that problem much quicker than he expected. Miriam was not leaving, and his real master, Philip, would be a very happy man when he returned to the news about Claudia. For having started so badly, it was turning into a very good day.
Chapter 68: Still Wanted
Miriam stood at the counter, completing the finishing touches on dinner, when Master Titus walked into the kitchen. Her glance was fleeting before she turned away, focusing her attention on the garnish she was arranging on the platter. Looking directly at him might be dangerous. She’d made several of his favorite dishes, just as he’d told Nestor he wanted that morning. Maybe that would keep him from changing his mind about keeping her. Mistress Claudia wanted her there even if he didn’t.
Titus frowned at Miriam’s response. He wasn’t still angry with her. She should have known that when he kept her, but it would seem she didn’t. A compliment on the pretty food should draw those brown eyes from the platter to his own; then she’d know. He walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. The moment he touched her, she startled, dropped her shoulder away from his hand, and stepped away from him. When she was beyond striking distance, she turned fear-filled eyes upon him, then bowed her head and locked her gaze on the floor.
His lips tightened. She was acting just like she had when he first bought her. He took a step toward her, and she backed away, staying out of striking range, still keeping her head bowed and her eyes downcast.
“Stop. I’m not going to hit you. Stand still and look at me.”
She raised her head and looked into his eyes. He’d hurt her more than he’d realized. An ugly purple bruise and a cut the size of his signet ring marred her cheek under her right eye.
He took a step toward her and reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t step back, but she flinched as his hand made contact. She lowered her eyes, and her whole body quivered. She expected him to strike her, and her trembling pierced his heart.
“Look at me.” She turned her eyes back on his, as commanded.
He moved a strand of hair behind her ear and offered a sad smile. Then he rested his hand on the side of her face that he hadn’t bruised and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“I’m sorry I hit you. I told you I never would, and I meant it when I said it. I broke my word, and I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I hope you’ll believe me when I say I’ll never hit you like that again.” Fear still filled those dark brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes, master.” She looked at the floor, then back at his eyes. “I have no choice.”
Titus’s brow furrowed. Why did she say that? Of course she had a choice. He could tell a slave what to do, but he couldn’t control what she thought.
The fear started to fade from her eyes, and that drew his smile. He withdrew his hand from her cheek slowly, drawing his fingers along the bottom of her jaw.
“I already lost Father because he became a Christian. When Claudia told me she’d made the same choice, I was afraid I’d lose her, too, and I blamed you. I couldn’t bear the thought of my sister being killed. She’s all I have that matters now. But my fear was no excuse for hitting you like that.” He paused. “Or for selling you.”
She didn’t say anything, but her eyes widened. Fear was replaced by uncertainty in those brown eyes he’d found so compelling in the slave market.
He didn’t know what else to say, and he’d already said much more than he intended. He turned his gaze on the platter.
“Looks like it will be another great dinner tonight. It’s a good thing I didn’t sell the best cook in the city. I could never replace her.”
He offered one more smile before striding into the inner courtyard.
Miriam pressed her hand against her cheek where he’d touched her. He’d asked her forgiveness as if she were a real person. Wasn’t she only the slave he wanted to sell? His eyes looked like he was truly sorry, like he actually cared if she forgave him.
She turned back to the platter, wondering at him telling her so much about the fears of his own heart, marveling that he cared enough to ask her forgiveness, remembering the gentle touch of his hand, and rejoicing that he said she was irreplaceable.
The dinner was as delicious as Titus had come to expect from her. Claudia beamed each time he smiled at Miriam and told her how delicious the food was when she served him the next dish. When the last course was served, Miriam disappeared into the kitchen, where she and Nestor would eat.
Claudia reached over and touched his hand. “Thank you, Titus.”
“For what?”
“For letting me keep Miriam. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
A deep sigh escaped as he shook his head. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with both of you. I wish you hadn’t decided to follow Father in becoming a Christian, but I know I can’t stop you. I just ask that you be very careful not to tell anyone. It’s not illegal in this province now, but who knows what might happen with the next governor.” Worry furrowed his brow. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’ll be careful. I know the danger, but it’s worth it. I’m so happy now. Knowing Jesus is so wonderful, and―”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear anything about your Jesus. If you want to talk about him, talk to Miriam.”
Silence filled the room as he swirled the wine in his goblet.
“I’m sorry I hit her so hard. That bruise looks awful, and I’m sure it hurts. I never thought I’d do that to a slave.”
“I’m sure she’s forgiven you. Jesus said we must. She always forgave me for saying hurtful things to her.”
“It’s not the same. A few harsh words are nothing compared to what I did.”
“Words can hurt more than any blow, Titus, especially if you love someone, and I’m sure Miriam loves me as much as I love her.”
“That’s another thing you shouldn’t say to anyone but me. She’s only a slave.”
“How can you say that after the way she cared for you when you were so sick? She could have caught your fever and died, and she knew that. She wouldn’t even let me or Nestor into the room because she was afraid we’d catch it. She’d do anything for you.”
“Maybe.” He stared into the goblet. “No, I know it’s not maybe with her. You’re right.” He swirled his wine again. “I wish I could undo this morning.”
He ran his fingers through his hair as he shook his head.
“At least I stopped Nestor before he sold her. A cripple like her...you have to get to know her to realize how much she’s truly worth. If I hadn’t bought her for you, she’d have ended up in the brothel. That’s a brutal place. She might have died there by now, and even if she hadn’t...it would crush a gentle person like her.”
“I guess God took care of us both when He had you buy her for me.”
&n
bsp; “There you go, talking about the Christian god again.”
“I’m only talking to you, Titus, and we’ve always been able to share anything we thought. I can’t stop now.”
He looked at her happy eyes and sighed. He’d been so worried she would kill herself when she was filled with despair. Now he had to worry about whether someone else might kill her because she was filled with joy.
Miriam was washing dishes when she felt someone watching her. When she turned, Master Titus was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with serious eyes and a frown.
“Do you need something, master?” She stepped back from the basin. He said he’d never hit her again, but she wouldn’t get too close when he was frowning, just in case.
He walked over, placed his hands on both sides of her face, and turned it up until she was looking into his eyes. He was careful not to touch the bruise.
“That looks bad.” He shook his head. “I can’t do anything about the cut, but maybe I can help the bruise.” His eyes warmed before he walked out the kitchen door toward the stable.
She’d been stunned by the way he touched her face before dinner, but that was nothing compared to him holding her face so gently now and seeming concerned about her pain. The painful blows and the gentle touches―she didn’t know what to expect from him next. What was he planning to do that might help?
She kept one eye on the door when she turned back to the counter to continue washing.
When the master returned, he held a jar of ointment. He placed the stopper on the counter next to the wash basin.
“Face me, Miriam.” His voice sounded gentler than she ever remembered hearing. She dried her hands and turned toward him.
“Close your eyes and don’t move. I don’t want to get this in your eyes. It would sting.”
Titus dipped his forefinger into the ointment, then began very gently rubbing it into the bruise. She flinched when he first touched her. Then the heat from the ointment began to relieve the pain, and she relaxed. When he finished, she still stood there with her face tipped upward and her eyes closed. A slight smile curved her lips.
