The Warrior's Bride Prize

Home > Historical > The Warrior's Bride Prize > Page 12
The Warrior's Bride Prize Page 12

by Jenni Fletcher


  ‘You want to go shopping?’ She stared at him as if he’d just gone mad.

  ‘Not for myself, but you need some warmer clothes.’

  He gestured vaguely in the direction of her gown, though he kept his gaze fixed on her face. Getting distracted by her body at that moment definitely wasn’t a good idea. Now that they were free to be alone together, their relationship seemed to have shifted, as if they were back at the beginning again with a whole new set of problems. He was separating her from her daughter, for a start. As marriages went, it wasn’t the best of beginnings.

  ‘Oh.’ She glanced downwards as if she had no idea what she was wearing. ‘But it’s getting warmer, surely?’

  ‘The seasons here aren’t as predictable as in the south. It can be spring today and winter again tomorrow and the wall is exposed to all the elements. You’ll need a warm cloak and some sturdier boots.’

  Her expression wavered uncertainly. ‘I don’t have any money...’

  ‘But I do and I’d be happy to buy whatever you need.’

  ‘Very well.’ She gave a strained-looking smile. ‘In that case, we’d be glad to accompany you. Just give me an hour to talk to Julia first.’

  ‘Take as long as you need.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She made for the door and then stopped. ‘So the ceremony will be...?’

  ‘Tonight. Then we’ll leave for Cilurnum first thing in the morning.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘What do you think, Empress? Would you like a new cloak, too?’ Marius bent his head towards Julia as they walked out of the fortress gates towards the vicus, smiling when she nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Yes, please! Can I have a doll as well?’

  ‘Julia!’ Livia admonished her.

  ‘Anything you want. You’re the Empress.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have promised her that,’ she remonstrated with him as the little girl skipped ahead with Porcia. ‘Now she’ll choose the biggest doll she can find.’

  ‘Then she can have it. This is a special day, after all.’ He glanced sideways, as if to see her reaction to the statement. ‘She ought to get some kind of a present to celebrate.’

  Celebrate. Livia forced a smile, the word hovering in the air as they made their way towards the market, a brightly coloured collection of shops and stalls bordering both sides of the street, stocked high with breads, meats, fish, clothes and anything else an army garrison might require. A group of boys called to Marius as they passed, inviting him to play some kind of ball game with them, but instead of looking angry at their familiarity as she might have expected, he only grinned and shook his head back.

  Despite his celebratory mood, she felt a new sense of awkwardness in his company. Underneath his outward appearance she was certain he felt it, too. The atmosphere of tension between them was stronger than ever, as if they were both struggling to adjust to their new relationship. They were even walking an arm’s length apart like strangers. Whatever else his proposal had done, it hadn’t brought them any closer together. Quite the opposite, it seemed to have pushed them further apart. She still had no idea either why he’d proposed or how he felt towards her—and apparently he had no intention of talking about it.

  Now, confusingly, he was talking about their wedding as a cause for celebration, but she couldn’t celebrate. Instead, she felt oppressed by the one-sidedness of it. He’d risked so much—his money, his sword, probably even his career—while she was only using him to escape Scaevola.

  No, she frowned at the thought, that wasn’t true. She wasn’t using him, at least not in any calculated manner, and she couldn’t deny her physical attraction to him, but was he really a man she could spend the rest of her life with? After all, she barely knew him, not really, and she hadn’t exactly been honest with him either. Although there was still time, she reminded herself, if she wanted to risk telling him everything...

  ‘A wedding present, you mean?’ She pushed the thought aside.

  ‘In part, and because she’s been through a lot. It must have been a difficult few months for both of you.’ He looked sombrely at her. ‘I won’t try to replace her father, Livia, but I’ll do my best for her. You have my word on it.’

  ‘Oh...thank you.’ She swallowed the lump that arose in her throat suddenly, touched as much by the words as by the poignant idea they evoked, that of a little girl grieving for her father, no matter how far from the truth it was. Thank you sounded inadequate somehow, but then what more could she say, that Julia had hardly known her father? That he’d accused her of belonging to someone else? She could hardly tell him that without also explaining why...

  She kept her gaze fixed determinedly ahead on her daughter. After a few tears that morning, Julia had adapted quickly to the idea of staying with, and no doubt being spoiled by, Hermenia for a month. That was one consolation at least and the older woman had seemed almost as excited.

  ‘Do you think you’ll be happy here?’ Livia had wrapped Julia up in her arms and squeezed tight.

  Her daughter had made an indistinct sound and wriggled. No wonder, she’d thought, feeling foolish. It was far too big a question for a four-year-old to answer. Children lived in the present, not the future. She only wished that she could do the same, though it was too big a question even for her.

  Hermenia had been kind, too, patting her hand as she’d tried to reassure her. ‘Marius isn’t the most communicative of men, but he’s a good one none the less. You’re far better off with him than Scaevola, only don’t tell Nerva I said so.’

  ‘Is your husband very angry?’

  The other woman’s expression had spoken volumes. ‘It’s put him in an awkward position. If your brother brings a case against Scaevola, then his father will want to know what happened. My husband will have a lot of explaining to do.’

  ‘But can’t he simply tell him the truth? Scaevola’s a grown man. Surely Nerva can’t be held accountable for his actions?’

  ‘He’s a grown man who’s been raised to see himself as superior to the rest of us. His father is just an older, marginally wiser version. Trust me, whatever the truth, he’ll blame everyone else before his son. My husband in particular.’

  ‘And Marius?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her conscience had stabbed her anew. ‘Does Marius know how important his father is?’

  ‘He couldn’t not. Lucius makes certain that everyone does.’

  ‘But then I don’t understand.’ She’d put her head in her hands, stricken with guilt. ‘Why did Marius gamble on me? Why did he ask me to marry him? If it causes so much trouble, why is Nerva even permitting it?’

  ‘Because Marius insisted that the marriage go ahead, after he spoke to you, that is. He obviously cares for you and he won the game fair and square.’ Hermenia had smiled indulgently. ‘But I’m sure it’ll all blow over soon enough, don’t worry.’

  Livia had smiled uncertainly, desperately hoping that was true. And the fact that Hermenia thought he cared for her was encouraging... In the meantime, unlikely as it seemed, she and Marius were going shopping. She needed supplies for their journey to the wall and he was going to pay for them. Yet another one-sided arrangement. As if she didn’t have enough to feel guilty about.

  Her gaze fell on a fishmonger’s stall and she had a sudden burst of inspiration.

  ‘Perhaps I could cook dinner for us tonight?’ She spun towards him enthusiastically.

  ‘You can cook?’ He sounded surprised.

  ‘Yes, my mother taught me. I used to cook for my father all the time. I’m out of practice, but I haven’t forgotten how. I enjoy it.’

  ‘Then why are you out of practice?’ Dark eyes regarded her questioningly. ‘Didn’t you cook for your husband?’

  ‘No-o.’ She dropped her gaze quickly. ‘Julius said it wasn’t appropriate for someone in my position. He said they weren�
��t the skills of a lady.’

  ‘Ah. Fortunately, they’re just the sort of skills needed for a soldier’s wife, although not perhaps on her wedding day. I’m sure Hermenia will be planning some kind of dinner even if we have to keep it quiet from Scaevola.’

  ‘Oh... Yes, of course.’

  Her momentary disappointment was quickly replaced by panic. In the impulse of the moment she’d forgotten that it was their wedding meal they’d be eating tonight—which meant that tonight was also their wedding night! Why on earth had she just offered to cook? She doubted that she’d be able to eat a mouthful. She’d barely been able to eat breakfast.

  ‘He must have been an important man, your husband.’ Marius’s tone shifted subtly.

  ‘I suppose so, in Lindum anyway. He was a wine merchant. He and Tarquinius were business associates and friends until...’ She faltered, biting her lip before she gave too much away.

  ‘Until?’

  ‘Until they weren’t.’

  ‘I see.’ He didn’t push the subject. ‘He came from a good family, too, I presume?’

  ‘Mmm.’ She made a pretence of examining some bread loaves. She definitely didn’t want to talk about that. Julius had considered his family one of the oldest and most distinguished in the city, until she’d come along, that was.

  ‘Do you want some bread?’ He stopped beside her, looking faintly surprised. No wonder, she realised, when the Legate’s villa was so amply stocked with its own provisions.

  ‘No, I was just...’ she racked her brains, failing to think up a suitable excuse ‘...looking.’

  ‘Ah.’ He sounded unconvinced as they continued on to a stall selling furs and woollen garments. ‘Now, this is more like it.’ He picked up a cloak and held it against her. ‘How about this one?’

  ‘Red?’ She regarded it dubiously and then gestured at her hair. ‘You don’t think I’ll look a little too bright?’

  ‘No, I think it’ll suit you.’ His gaze flickered with a look of something like appreciation, his dark eyes seeming to turn even darker despite the bright sunshine. ‘You’ll look like a legionary, too.’

  ‘So I’ll fit in with the crowd?’ The idea struck her as both funny and sad at the same time.

  ‘Not unless I make you wear a helmet, which I won’t. I want to see your hair, not hide it.’

  She felt a warm, fuzzy feeling that seemed to start in her chest and then spread outwards, suffusing her whole upper body in a vivid pink glow.

  ‘Well, it certainly looks warm.’ As if that would explain why she suddenly looked like a beetroot!

  She lifted a hand, hoping the movement might distract him. ‘It feels lovely and soft, too. Can I try it on?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He opened it up for her, unwrapping the long folds and then draping them gently about her shoulders. She tensed as his fingers brushed lightly against her back, the warmth of them seeming to penetrate all the way through the fleece to her skin. Then he tugged the ends of the cloak together under her chin and she felt as though he were gathering her into his arms, just as he had the night before. The thought made her temperature soar even higher, as if she were wearing ten layers of wool rather than one.

  ‘What do you think?’

  What did she think? Her heart was pounding so rapidly she found it hard to concentrate on the question. He was standing only a few inches away, towering above her so that, unless she wanted to stare at his chest, she had to tilt her chin up to look at him. When she did their eyes locked and she felt a familiar spark pass between them, one that seemed to render her completely speechless and immobile at the same time. What did she think? She was thinking that he felt strong and safe and honourable and that she wanted nothing more than for him to take the cloak off again, preferably along with the rest of her clothes, too.

  ‘Mama?’

  Julia’s voice interrupted her daydream and she dropped her chin quickly. ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘It’s pretty. Can I have one, too?’

  ‘Of course you can, Empress, one just like your mama’s.’ Marius crouched down beside the girl. ‘Or would you like me to show you some others?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘All right.’ He scooped her up in his arms, allowing her to survey the selection from above. ‘Now tell me, which one do you like?’

  ‘The green.’

  Livia smiled, the fuzzy glow seeming to increase tenfold as he put Julia down again and picked up a smaller, forest-green version of her new cloak. It was strange how different he seemed, so much more relaxed and easy-going around children, revealing the softness behind his stern facade. If nothing else, he’d be a good father, she was sure of it.

  ‘How’s that, Empress?’

  Julia nodded and he jerked his head towards Porcia. ‘You, too. I don’t want any of you catching a chill.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The maid beamed as she picked up a blue version. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Good. Then we’re all happy.’ He turned away to hand a few coins to the shopkeeper before clapping his hands together decisively and winking at Livia.

  ‘Now, I believe there was mention of a doll?’

  ‘Over here!’ Julia grabbed one of each of their hands, leading them across the street towards a stall selling an impressive array of toys and trinkets.

  ‘This might take a while.’ Livia took a step closer towards him as Julia broke away, jumping up and down with excitement at the range of choices before her. ‘That was very kind. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen either of them so happy.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She put a hand on his arm in a gesture of gratitude and felt the muscles immediately contract beneath her touch, so violently that she started to pull away again.

  ‘Wait.’ His spare hand came up to stop the movement, forcing her fingers back down on to his arm before resting gently over them.

  Neither of them spoke then for a few seconds. Instead they stood side by side, watching Julia without looking at each other, though Livia was intently aware of the still spasming muscles beneath her fingertips. Suddenly she wished there was some space between them again. Surely the intense physical attraction she felt for him—that he seemed to feel for her, too—must be obvious to everyone around them.

  ‘I’m truly sorry about separating the pair of you.’ His voice sounded deeper than ever when he spoke, so deep that she felt the vibrations all through her body. ‘I know it must be hard to leave her.’

  ‘It is.’ She swallowed as his fingers tightened around hers. ‘We’ve never been apart before. I hate the very idea of it, but her safety is more important, and at least she’s excited about spending some time with Hermenia. Porcia’s staying, too.’

  ‘You’re not bringing your maid?’

  ‘Not if you think it might be dangerous and it’s more important for Julia to have familiar faces around her.’

  He twisted towards her with a look of concern. ‘You’ll be safe in the fort. There’ll be plenty of soldiers there to protect you, but you know I’d leave you here, too, if I could.’

  That time she laughed outright. ‘I’m not sure that’s the most complimentary thing you could say on our wedding day.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ He looked faintly sheepish.

  ‘I know. You meant for my protection, too.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This one!’ Julia whirled around suddenly, holding up a wooden doll only a few inches shorter than she was.

  ‘I hate to say I told you so.’ Livia lifted her eyebrows.

  ‘But you will?’ Marius laughed and released her hand slowly, as if he were reluctant to do so. ‘I suppose I asked for that. This might take some haggling.’

  She bent down as he walked across to the stall-owner, putting on a suitably admiring expression as Julia showed
off her new doll.

  ‘I’m going to call her Flavia. Isn’t she pretty, Mama?’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘The man said I might like her because she has hair like me.’

  Livia reached a hand out to stroke the doll’s bright red woollen hair. The stall-owner was right, though it could hardly have looked any more Caledonian. The thought made her vaguely uncomfortable. What if somebody here guessed their identity?

  ‘Livia?’ Marius had finished haggling and was looking at her with concern. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sucked the insides of her cheeks, trying to control her expression. ‘I was just thinking about...’ her gaze fell on a neighbouring stall ‘...boots. You said I needed new ones.’

  ‘So I did.’ He sounded dubious, as if he weren’t completely convinced by her explanation.

  ‘What about these?’ Quickly, she picked up a pair of sturdy-looking, brown-leather ankle boots. Julius would have been horrified. ‘They look practical.’

  ‘Not practical enough.’ He pointed to the under-soles. ‘No hobnails.’

  She blinked in surprise. ‘Are you expecting me to do marches?’

  ‘No, although I’m sure you’d be perfectly capable. Here.’ He passed her a pair of even sturdier-looking ones. ‘Try these.’

  ‘They’re man’s boots!’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  She stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds and then shrugged. ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘Then try them on.’

  She sat down on the stool provided, unfastening her everyday sandals as Julia settled down beside her, playing with her new doll.

  ‘Here.’ Marius crouched down on his haunches in front of her, too. ‘Let me help.’

  He reached for her foot, cupping the back of her heel in one hand as he lifted the boot in the other and then slid it inside. She wriggled her toes, trying to concentrate on her purpose and not the sudden profusion of knots in her abdomen.

  ‘How does that feel?’ He fastened the buckle and then looked up, green eyes hooded, and all the knots seemed to twist and tighten, forming one giant skein that would surely never unravel.

 

‹ Prev