‘Tomorrow?’ Livia felt as though she’d just been handed a death sentence.
‘Yes.’ The Legate at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure he’ll apologise for what he said.’
Livia stared at him in silent horror. She was sure of no such thing. On the contrary, she was quite positive that Scaevola would find all kinds of ways to vent his resentment at being forced to marry her, to punish her for looking like a ‘barbarian’, never mind for pouring an amphora of wine over his head. The vengeful glint in his eye had been unmistakable.
She swallowed nervously. How much more would he punish her if—when—Tarquinius told him the whole truth? It was vaguely ironic how close Scaevola had come to it himself, accusing her of looking like a savage—an insult to her mother’s people that still made her furious—when in fact she had even more in common with the Caledonians.
‘Very well.’ She tried to keep her voice from shaking. ‘Then I ought to get some sleep.’
‘I’ll help you get ready for bed.’
Hermenia took her arm and she felt her nerves tighten. The last thing she wanted was to talk about the scene the other woman had just witnessed, but it seemed there was no escaping it. She had no way to defend or justify her behaviour either. She could barely explain it herself. Only it had felt like something that had been going to happen, that she’d wanted to happen, ever since she’d first set eyes upon Marius. There had been an inevitability, even a kind of rightness to kissing him, no matter what anyone else might think.
‘I know what you’re going to say.’ She spoke in an undertone as they walked down the corridor.
‘Do you?’ To her surprise, Hermenia didn’t immediately berate her. ‘Because I don’t.’
‘It won’t happen again.’
‘I should hope not if you’re marrying Scaevola tomorrow.’
‘If?’ A rush of anger overtook her. ‘It’s not as if I have a choice. If there was any other way, then believe me, I’d take it!’
The older woman was silent and Livia bit her tongue, regretting her temper.
‘I’m sorry, but Scaevola isn’t the only one who’s being controlled by my brother. I wasn’t offered a choice about this marriage either.’
‘I know.’ Hermenia wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t you have any money of your own? A way to be independent?’
‘No. My father left me some, but it went to Julius on our marriage.’
‘But surely your husband left you provided for?’
‘No, he left Julia and me with nothing, not even a place to live. He wanted to leave us dependent on my brother, I think. It was a kind of revenge.’
She dropped her gaze, letting Hermenia draw her own conclusions about his reasons for doing so. After what she’d just seen, she’d probably think the worst.
‘Was he cruel to you?’
She looked up again, surprised by the note of sympathy in the other woman’s voice.
‘No... Yes... I mean, no, not at first, but he changed. He was much older than I was and he came to regret marrying me.’ She put up a hand before Hermenia could protest. ‘He said so.’
‘Well, I’m sure it wasn’t because of anything you did. Some people just aren’t suited.’
‘Maybe not, but now I have to do it all over again because if I don’t we’ll be destitute.’ She shook her head. ‘I’d hoped that Scaevola would be a different kind of man, but he’s even worse than Julius.’
‘Whereas Marius...?’
‘Marius...’ She repeated his name softly, letting it hang in the air between them. ‘He is different, but I know it’s no use thinking that.’
‘Good. Because for both your sakes...’
‘I know.’
She felt as if there were a lead weight in her chest. But at least she did know the truth, that no matter how attracted she was to Marius, no good could come of it. If it had been Scaevola who’d caught them, then there definitely wouldn’t have been a wedding going ahead tomorrow and as for Marius—what would have happened to him? A flogging? Demotion? She didn’t want to be responsible for either.
‘I won’t say anything.’ Hermenia squeezed her shoulders one last time before releasing her. ‘Believe me, if there was something I could do...’
Livia forced a smile, hearing the echo of Marius’s words earlier. ‘You’ve been kind enough already. Thank you.’
She closed the chamber door behind her. Just like that morning, Julia and Porcia were both already asleep and she leaned back against the wall, letting herself slide gently to the floor.
How could she have let it happen, endangering her whole future just for the sake of one kiss? Hadn’t she told herself that very morning to keep away from him? She felt as if she’d actually run mad for a few minutes, but everything had seemed to hit her at once—the possibility of a Caledonian rebellion, the idea of Marius leading a dangerous patrol, the secret of her own divided loyalties, not to mention her anger at Tarquinius and Scaevola. She’d been so confused and frustrated that she’d shamelessly asked him to kiss her! But then she’d only intended it to be brief—a single, fleeting kiss that no one else would have witnessed. She hadn’t been remotely prepared for the tumult of emotion that had followed.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth, the memory of it still making her lips tingle. Marius had kissed her with an urgency that had awoken something inside her she hadn’t known existed. She’d felt urgent, too. She’d wanted—no, needed—it to be everything, a whole lifetime of sensations crammed into a few moments. Maybe it had been the risk of discovery or maybe just the desperate situation in which they’d found themselves, but she’d surrendered all of her inhibitions, kissing him with all the passion she’d kept pent up inside through the miserable long years of her marriage.
It had felt more real, more powerful and profound than any kiss she’d ever shared with her husband, as if the rest of the world had fallen away and there had only been her and Marius and a feeling of intense, spine-tingling, light-headed pleasure. She had no idea how long it had lasted, but it hadn’t felt like anywhere near enough. She wasn’t sure that it could ever have been long enough. Even now, despite everything, she wanted more.
But Hermenia was right. It was too dangerous for it ever to happen again. The moment was gone and she had that at least, the memory of one real kiss to sustain her in the future. No matter what her life with Scaevola was going to be like, and she didn’t anticipate a happy one, at least she had one moment of real intimacy—she wasn’t going to call it love—to remember.
* * *
Marius stormed back to the barracks, barging his way through the door that led to his private quarters and slamming it heavily behind him. The mist that he’d been riding through all day had turned into a fog, thick and impenetrable, so that he had no idea what to think, still less what to do. All he knew was what he wanted and that was utterly and completely forbidden.
He picked up a flagon of wine and drank a few cupfuls in quick succession. He rarely drank to excess, but tonight oblivion seemed particularly tempting.
‘How did it go, sir?’ Pulex opened the door behind him and stuck his head inside.
‘What?’
It took him a few moments to comprehend what his Optio was asking and then the question struck him as hilarious. What could he say? That he’d achieved almost nothing during his long ride—he certainly hadn’t discovered anything new—and then he’d done his best to destroy his career by kissing the soon-to-be-wife of a senior officer? He doubted that Pulex would see the funny side.
‘Not very well.’ He focused on the relevant part of his answer. ‘The other forts all say the same thing. They’ve had no sight or sound of anyone for weeks.’
‘What does Nerva think?’
‘He has other things on his mind.’
‘You mean Scaevola?’ Pulex rolled his eyes. ‘
I noticed he was drunk again.’
‘You’ve seen him? Where?’ Marius paused with his cup halfway to his lips. He’d overheard Nerva saying that he’d ordered Scaevola to bed on his way out of the villa.
‘In Arvina’s barracks, gambling.’
‘Damn it.’ He put his cup down again.
‘I’d leave him to it if I were you, sir.’ Pulex looked faintly alarmed. ‘He’s an angry drunk.’
Marius made a face. That was undeniably true. Scaevola was surly enough when he hadn’t had an amphora of wine poured over his head. Tonight he’d be positively savage. He was also the very last person in the legion he wanted to see again, but if the Tribune was disobeying orders then Nerva would want to know and he had a duty to report it. On the other hand, he had absolutely no intention of returning to the villa. If he saw Livia again, then he had no idea what might happen.
No, he glowered to himself as he threw his cloak back over his shoulders, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly what might happen. That was the problem.
Which meant that he had to confront Scaevola himself.
There were four barrack blocks between his and Arvina’s, giving him sufficient time during the walk to fully appreciate the folly of what he was doing. He was going to order a senior officer to bed. If Scaevola hadn’t been his enemy before, he certainly would be after this.
He set his jaw grimly, offering curt nods in response to the hails of various legionaries as he passed, making his way determinedly towards Arvina’s block, Pulex trailing a reluctant path behind. Just as his Optio had said, Scaevola was gambling inside, sitting on a stool in one corner of the Centurion’s quarters, flanked by two of the Seventh Cohort’s officers.
‘Marius!’ Arvina, a round-faced Centurion with a shock of spiky blond hair, greeted him cheerfully as he entered. ‘Come and have a game.’
‘Yes, come in.’ The other Centurion, Drusus, winked at him. ‘We’ve just switched to tabula. Scaevola thinks his luck’s about to change.’
Marius took in the scene with one glance. Scaevola was too drunk to notice the conspiratorial looks of the other officers and he knew there was no love lost there either. In one short month at the fort, the Tribune had managed to offend and alienate nearly all of his comrades. Arvina and Drusus were merely taking revenge in the only way that they could. He couldn’t blame them even if he did have to put a stop to it...
‘He’s played enough.’ He jerked his head at Scaevola.
‘I’ll say when I’ve played enough.’ The Tribune’s expression was beyond sullen now, positively burning with hatred. ‘You might be Nerva’s pet at headquarters, but I outrank you here, Varro.’
Pet? His temper flared at the insult. The man really was asking to be taught a lesson the hard way.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Arvina seemed to notice the tension in the room suddenly, looking between them with a newly wary expression. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘No. I want to play a round with Marius.’ Scaevola jerked his chin up belligerently. ‘If he’ll lower himself to gamble, that is.’
‘You don’t seem to have anything left to stake.’ Marius folded his arms with a look of contempt.
‘Maybe not, but I have someone. Nerva might be blind, but I’ve seen the way you look at her.’
‘Her?’ Only years of practice enabled him to keep his expression neutral.
‘Livia Valeria. Or are you going to pretend that you don’t want her?’
He clenched his jaw at the challenge. Apparently the Tribune was more observant than he’d thought.
‘You’re not denying it.’ Scaevola’s expression turned leering. ‘Why don’t you just admit it? Admit that you want her!’
‘I didn’t say that, but she deserves better than to be part of some game. She’s a woman, not a pile of coins.’
‘She’s my woman.’ Scaevola leaned forward abruptly. ‘Unless you win the game, that is. What do you say, Varro—why don’t we make this interesting?’
Chapter Ten
‘What do you mean?’
Marius held his breath as the already taut atmosphere of the room became even more strained. Had Scaevola really just suggested what he thought he’d just suggested, staking his prospective bride in a game of tabula? Incredibly enough, that seemed to be exactly what he was saying, offering him the chance that he’d wished for—the chance to save her from a marriage she didn’t want.
‘I mean, let’s play for some real stakes.’ Scaevola’s voice taunted him. ‘How much are you willing to risk for her?’
‘You’ve had too much wine.’ Marius resisted the temptation to take advantage of the other man’s drunkenness. Although, on the other hand, he wasn’t exactly sober himself. It would be a fair game in that regard...if he took up the offer...
‘What’s she worth to you?’ Scaevola ignored the accusation. ‘Five thousand denarii? Ten thousand? You have the money, I know that. You don’t spend it on drinking or women.’
‘I’ve no intention of gambling it away either.’
‘Not even when the prize is so appealing?’ Scaevola’s expression turned scathing. ‘Of course, I forgot you’re the model soldier, just like your father. Oops.’ He put a hand to his mouth in mock horror. ‘I forgot—he left the army in disgrace, didn’t he? Stripped of his command and dishonourably discharged, although he was lucky to escape with his head, or so I’ve heard.’
Marius gritted his teeth so hard he was half-afraid he might crack his own jaw. It was true, his father had escaped charges of treason with his life, thanks largely to Nerva’s intervention, but he’d been a broken man afterwards. He’d barely made it home, dying of fever a mere month after he’d returned, using his last breath to tell his thirteen-year-old son the truth about the charges laid against him.
‘I think it’s time to call it a night.’ Arvina tried intervening again.
‘Pity.’ Scaevola’s eyes kindled maliciously. ‘I thought you had more backbone, Varro. I thought you might actually appreciate the chance to win her. I suppose I can see the appeal myself in a rustic kind of way, even if she does look like a savage. I wonder if she acts like one in bed, too?’ He grinned. ‘But then I suppose I’ll find out after we’re married. After I’ve dealt with her behaviour tonight, of course. I haven’t thought of a punishment yet, but—’
‘How much?’ Marius slammed his fist on to the tabula board.
‘I knew it!’ Scaevola cackled. ‘I knew that you wanted to bed her.’
‘Not to bed her. To win her. That’s what you said.’ He fixed the other man with a challenging stare. ‘That means if I win, she’s mine completely.’
‘What?’ Scaevola’s voice faltered. ‘No, that wasn’t what I meant.’
‘How much do you owe her brother?’
‘Too much to risk losing her in a game.’
This time it was Marius’s turn to look scathing. ‘I thought you had more backbone, too. Or are you so scared of a tavern owner from Lindum?’
As he’d anticipated, Scaevola’s temper flared instantly.
‘Twenty thousand denarii!’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ Arvina pushed his stool back and stood up. ‘Marius, don’t do it.’
‘I have five hundred here...’ he took a leather pouch from his belt and placed it on the table ‘...and nine thousand in the legion strong room.’
‘Not enough.’ Scaevola jutted his chin out, though his gaze dropped to the money pouch acquisitively.
‘But enough to pay back a big chunk of the debt. Probably enough to buy your way out of the marriage.’
‘There still needs to be more.’ Scaevola’s gaze wavered for a moment before settling on his sword hilt. ‘Your gladius. I want that.’
For a moment Marius thought about walking away. His father’s sword was his most treasured possession, made of the finest Spanish steel and with both sets of
their initials carved into the hilt. It was the last thing his father had given him on his deathbed and he’d worn it every day since, to the point where it felt like an extension of his own body. Losing it would be like losing a limb. Losing it to Scaevola would be unbearable.
But if he refused to gamble, then he’d be sacrificing his one chance to save Livia. If any woman was worth gambling for, then surely it was her... The memory of their kiss was enough to decide him.
‘Done.’ He drew the weapon from its scabbard and laid it on the floor between them. ‘But if I win, whatever agreement you made with her brother is void.’
Scaevola’s gaze flickered uncomfortably. ‘As long as you explain that to Nerva.’
Marius sat down with a snort of contempt. For all his bravado, it seemed the Tribune was no more than a frightened boy, unwilling to accept the consequences of his behaviour. No wonder he’d got himself into such a mess.
‘There’s no going back, Varro.’ Scaevola scooped up the pair of dice.
‘For you either.’ Marius arched an eyebrow, watching as the dice clattered on to the board. That was well and truly that, he thought with a sense of foreboding; the die was cast. Win or lose, there was no going back now.
They played for a few minutes in silence, Arvina and Drusus going to stand with Pulex in the doorway as if determined to distance themselves as far away from the game as possible. Marius couldn’t blame them. Whoever won, there was going to be hell to pay. If he lost, then Nerva would surely notice the absence of his father’s sword and ask him about it, and if he won...his pulse raced at the idea...if he won, he’d have to explain why Scaevola’s planned marriage wasn’t going ahead. He could hardly be punished since the game was fair and legitimate, but the Legate wouldn’t be pleased.
‘Ha!’ Scaevola broke the silence finally, his face lighting up with glee as he threw yet another set of doubles. ‘You’re losing, Varro.’
Marius frowned at the board. He couldn’t deny it. Scaevola was definitely in the lead, though he wasn’t going to give up quite so easily.
The Warrior's Bride Prize Page 9
