Senator Aurelius stood inside speaking to Aquilus.
Once the senator left, she’d signal Aquilus and tell him that she’d happily risk the soldiers if he’d only flee with her.
What if he still said no? She pressed her lips together. She wasn’t letting the father of her children perish in some stoic attempt to save others. This time he’d do as she said.
Inside the room, Senator Aurelius held up a letter. The oil lamp in his other hand flickered on the imperial seal. “I have news from Senator Cassius.”
Aquilus nodded, arms at his side.
“He took the utmost liberty,” Senator Aurelius pressed his mouth down, “of speaking to the Emperor about you.”
Aquilus startled.
Senator Aurelius bore his gaze disapprovingly into Aquilus. “The Emperor is extremely pleased with your Germanian trade plan. You shall still stand trial in Rome, but with Domitian’s good favor, the trial will be no more than a sham.”
Aquilus’ face lit up. “What did Cassius say?”
Senator Aurelius crossed stoically maintained arms. “Where is your wife?”
Aquilus shrugged as if he hadn’t just wrestled down a legionary for her.
Leaving the peephole, Ness scrambled back to the boys. Digging into the knapsack, she scattered denarii around the unconscious legionary’s head. With any luck, he’d recognize it as a bribe for silence.
In a matter of moments, she reached the tablinum door, the boys in her arms, Gwen strapped to her chest.
The curtain slid back in the darkness as she pushed through.
Senator Aurelius raised his gaze. The lamplight made stark shadows on the wall. “So, you are here.” He looked at her traveling clothes and the children she held.
“Lovely night for a little exercise, isn’t it?” She smiled, though she’d rather sink her fist into the senator’s smug jaw. How could he have wanted to kill Aquilus? Didn’t he realize her husband worshiped him?
Senator Aurelius moved his suspicious stare to Aquilus. “We leave in an hour. Be ready.” He pushed through the curtain and the only sound that remained was his sandals clapping against the tile floor at an eerily precise rate.
“Do you think he enjoys journeying places four hours before dawn or does it just to annoy people?” Aquilus broke into the broadest of smiles. He took the boys out of her arms and laid them down on the room’s cushioned chair.
She rubbed her finger against her thumb. She was glad, she supposed, that no one wanted to kill them anymore. Sleeping in a warm bed instead of a damp marsh sounded appealing. Aquilus would never desire to go to that northern farm now though. She would have taught him how to care for sheep. If he’d insisted, she’d even have let him raise pigs while she tended the sheep. Pigs were disgusting animals, though, nothing to compare with the grassy odor of a wooly sheep.
Aquilus handled the divorce parchment on the table. Peeling off the official seal that made it legally binding, he tossed the hunk of wax into the dying fire’s flames. He made to toss the parchment after it.
“Wait!” Ness grabbed the parchment from his hands. “I’m saving this as a memento of the day I almost got a divorce from you.”
Aquilus’ eyes laughed. “Wise woman. It’s not going to happen again.”
She fingered the scroll, the official legal language above, Aquilus’ firm signature underneath. “Aquilus?”
He looked at her.
“Why did you marry me?”
The firelight flicked around them, making the mood too intimate.
“I mean,” she tried to laugh and break the feeling. “I’ve certainly been told enough that I couldn’t advance your career.” She dug her nails into her palms. Likely he’d have some horrid stoic reason, so why did she hang on his words?
Did he just squirm? Aquilus shuffled the parchment. “As a Stoic, I liked the simpler way of life you represented.”
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze to the dark tiles. Just as wretched a reason as she’d thought. Wait, that didn’t make sense. She looked back at him. “No Stoic in all of Rome had a daughter?” A woman like that would have aided Aquilus’ political career and represented a simpler life.
Red tinged his ears. Wearing the most discomforted expression she’d ever seen from him, Aquilus scratched behind his neck. “I thought as a Celt you’d understand my love for province politics.”
She blinked. “You thought a farm girl would understand politics better than the daughter of a legate or a consul?”
He gulped.
From Gwen’s position on her back the babe wriggled and grunted, but Ness stared at Aquilus. “What’s the real reason you married me?” He must have some truly abominable reason if saying he’d married her because of his stoic principles was a sweetening of the truth.
Crimson crept up his face. He looked at the shelves rather than her and shifted his feet.
“I told you my reason.” Foolish as her reason had been, she had confessed to it. What reason so horrible that it couldn’t even be spoken had Aquilus possessed for marrying her?
“From that first conversation at the village well, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I made up excuses to linger at your village so I could see you again. In between times, I gave myself lectures on why I needed to marry a girl with political connections and how you were from a completely different world than I.” The man looked like he was confessing to horse stealing.
Ness narrowed her eyes.
“That night at the dance I’d planned to say farewell and never see you again. When you broke off the dance, I felt like I’d die if I had to live another hour without you, so I asked for you. Go ahead. Laugh at me.”
Her heart fluttered. So, he’d actually meant some of those things he’d said to her on starlit nights when he sought to use his charm to manipulate her. “Why would I laugh at you?”
“I’m supposed to be a Stoic.”
She smiled at him. “Not to worry, your flashes of human emotion ceased swiftly after that day.”
Eric stirred. Aquilus touched the boy’s shoulder.
“What’s next?” Ness asked.
Turning from Eric, Aquilus leaped forward and caught her hand. “Not only did the Emperor approve my plan, Ness, but….”
If he’d thought all that about her when he first married her, perhaps they could work this marriage business out. She clasped his hand back.
His face radiated joy. “Domitian offered me a consulship. Can you imagine it, a consulship? In one hour to go from traitor to consul, there should be a law against changing a man’s fortunes so much.”
“A consulship? In Rome?” Distrust swept over her.
“Yes, Rome, but this is the ladder to even more. Someday I could be governor of Gaul or….”
She stopped listening as all the tears she’d ever cried because of him swept over her again. “Rome?” Because of Rome, he’d missed his sons’ infancy and almost sold one to Cassius.
“This is an outstanding opportunity, Ness.” His voice grew harsher.
She yanked her hand out of his. “Never fear. I didn’t expect you to consider what I wanted.”
Silence filled the dark air. She could feel Aquilus looking at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze.
“I have to go to Rome for the mock trial, then back here to settle affairs before going to Rome to officially take on consulship duties. Do you want to come now or—”
She shook her head. “I’ll stay in Britain as long as I can.”
A few months before the words might have come out as a threat, but now they just sounded flat.
“Very well then,” Aquilus said as he looked at the woman standing stiffly before him. Ness spoke truth. This would be a forced-march journey, nothing a woman and three children needed to endure. “I’ll return in two months’ time, mayhap a little longer if the Emperor wills.”
She met his gaze this time, but she met it stoically.
“I want you to take the children and go to Camulodunum. It’s not safe here with tr
aitors on the loose.”
She shrugged.
“Ness, it’s important that you do this.”
She shrugged again.
He raised his hands. “I’m forced to leave within a matter of moments for a treason trial. I can’t make you go to town, but you should—”
“I know you can’t.” Her voice was smug and those blue eyes hinted at defiance.
With a sigh, he searched her face for a glimmer of backing down. “I’m worried about you here. Please, Ness.”
She tried another shrug but stopped halfway through. “Very well, but you’re indebted to me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Indebted for wanting to see my wife and children safe?”
She pushed a wisp of hair out of her face. “Of course. You get much too much satisfaction out of protecting people.”
He couldn’t tell if those blue eyes held only dry sarcasm or the light of a jest. “I’ll return.”
“I know. You’re impossible to get rid of.”
As he pushed aside the curtain, he caught one last glimpse of her golden hair glowing in the lamplight. Why did that woman care so much about Britannia and a herd of dirty sheep? Heaven knew, he’d give Ness anything she wished, but not that.
To give her that, he’d have to relinquish a consulship.
Chapter 30
Marble pillars rose around the Roman forum. Aquilus rested his hand on Titus’ arch.
“Tried and cleared.” The sun reflected off the balding spot on Cassius’ head. “Time to go accept that consulship. Outrank us all.”
Aquilus looked at the man he owed his life to. “Your timing was perfect. How did you know to push the trade plan through then?”
Cassius scratched under his formal toga. “I’m not senile yet, boy. Truth is, after you sent me that letter about the Germanian governor’s threats, I started to worry. Domitian hates the Hebrew religions with a passion. Then, with the rebellion in Germania, I knew you’d be in the thick of the trouble.”
“You weren’t so motivated before.”
“All right, and the Scipio family started breathing down my neck. The man’s wife came calling two dozen times. Repeated something about blacklisting being lifted, and if I didn’t help you, she’d see justice done herself.”
Scipio? Aquilus squinted into the sunlight. What would the Scipio familia care about the Paterculi fate? He’d never said more than salve to them at parties. “Well, thank you.”
Cassius slapped Aquilus on the back. “Your father would have never forgiven me if I let his only son be executed.”
Aquilus looked away toward the doors of the Senate chamber. Half an hour and he would enter through those doors to receive the consul’s symbol of office from the hand of Emperor Domitian himself.
Several men in togas edged with senatorial purple walked out the doors, deep in conversation. After today, he too would have the right to take a place in that building.
His toga hung flawlessly on his shoulders, hung like he had been born wearing one. This was who he was, who he was born to be—a leader in the Roman Empire who held office in nobility, serving those under him with justice and honor.
Ness’ face flashed before his eyes. The way she appeared when she said farewell, her big eyes still tired from the night of danger. The way she’d fearlessly stepped out into the darkness beyond the villa. She didn’t complain about having to travel the wilderness of Britannia alone, yet just the mention of this consulship brought offense to her voice.
He wanted her to be happy, and now when she looked at him, she sometimes smiled. This consulship was his dream ever since he held his first sword.
The senators, mostly older men, fell in line as they entered the building. It was an incredible honor to have the consulship offered to him at his age.
Ness hated living in Rome. His guts churned. She could get used to Rome.
Perhaps.
He twitched his fingers against the edge of his toga. His breathing came hard and fast. He wanted this consulship, wanted it so badly he could taste it. His father had passed the Paterculi legacy on to him to lead and command. He was a Roman Patrician.
He had the right to take this opportunity.
Outside the house, flute music skittered up and down as inharmonious as the colorful clothes the lad playing the instrument wore. A girl sang mostly in time to drums.
Ness grabbed Eric’s hand before he threw himself in the way of parading horses. This was Camulodunum’s summer festival and festivities spread even to the garrison houses. Wryn scurried forward from behind the house and stuck his fingers up a man’s long pipe instrument.
“No!” Ness grabbed the boy.
Yes!” Wryn yelled. “Want to play, Mama.” He flung his body forward.
An iron horseshoe hurtled down the closed-off street to a sand pit. Eric crouched at the edge of the pit and leaned his head over.
She gave him a firm stare that brought him scrambling out of the pit.
Sitting in the open back entranceway, Cornelia started chewing more loudly. She balanced Gwen in her other arm. “What good is a villa if you don’t even go there?”
Retreating to the house, Ness snatched Gwen away from a sliding grease drip. “We already had this conversation. No.”
Cornelia caught the mutton grease on her tongue. “You want to go. It’s spring, planting time.”
A sigh passed her lips. The villa had acres of fields just waiting for wheat or corn. She brought her thoughts jolting back to reality. She had to leave with Aquilus for that wretched consulship in Rome. Once he got back, that is. Eight weeks had passed.
Eric yelled at Wryn and swung his fist. Wryn head-dived into a puddle to escape him.
“Let’s go today,” Cornelia said.
“Why do you even care?”
A blush tinged Cornelia’s gray cheeks. “Well Tullus and I….”
Throwing back her head, Ness laughed. “You rail against men and then fall for the first one you meet?”
Cornelia scowled and a big droplet of grease fell on a parchment sheet in her lap. The Paterculi seal marked one edge.
“What’s that?”
“Letter arrived this morn from your husband.” Cornelia shoved it at her and then stalked back into the house.
Likely just news that he’d been delayed longer than eight weeks in Rome. He never arrived back when he said he would. Her heart felt sick as she stuffed the parchment into Cornelia’s basket of folded towels.
Drawing her bare feet up away from the muddy yard, she cradled Gwen between her knees. While living with Aquilus had never been excellent, eight weeks with only Cornelia was driving her stark, raving mad.
Wryn flopped on the flagstone beside her and started pounding it with his heels. Gwen pulled her legs up to her chest and yawned.
How Gwen could fall asleep with the twins screaming was beyond her. Ness flopped against the exterior wall while Eric tackled Wryn.
A sandal clapped against stone. Ness looked up as the person walked through the back door.
She bolted upright. “Aquilus!” Only the twins yelled and screamed too loud for anyone to hear.
Dust covered Aquilus’ clothes and his shoulders bent a little. He looked at her and then sidestepped to the boys.
Kneeling on the ledge, Aquilus pried the two kicking bodies apart. His soldier hands held the twins an arm’s length apart and the voice he used was definitely the one he used with legionaries.
Then Eric sat still, actually sat still, on Aquilus’ crossed knee.
Wryn stopped screaming, perhaps since he was no longer being pummeled. Pointing to the flute player and singer across the street, Wryn attempted the Celtic songs.
Eric covered his ears with both hands and Aquilus laughed as Wryn stumbled over the words.
A smile twisted at her lips. Though, who was Aquilus to laugh? Unlike him, the twins understood Celtic.
Aquilus pulled Wryn toward him.
“No, like this.” Aquilus began directing Wryn in time to th
e music.
Her eyes widened as Aquilus pronounced the Celtic words. That was her song. The song she thought her life would be when she was fifteen. “You don’t even know what the song says,” she accused Aquilus.
Even when Cedric had sung that song, it hadn’t been right, and it was even more wrong when Aquilus’ tongue formed those words. The cold stone stoop dug into her legs. That song should be banned from Britain.
“The song talks of love,” he paused, forehead concentrated in thought, “an undying, unchanging love. The songwriter has a perfect first love that endures always, without blemish. See, Germania training.” He smiled at her.
Angry tears gathered behind her eyes. “Then you sing falsehoods. We never had that kind of love, untainted, full from beginning to end.” Her voice rose more violently than she had intended.
Aquilus shook his head. “It’s not I that lied. It’s the songwriter. Who possesses a love that never faces storms? And if they did, it would be a shallow reflection of love, untested.”
The breeze tugged at her hair as she angled her chin up to stare at him.
He yawned. Pushing Wryn off his legs, he leaned back against the house. His eyes slid closed in the balmy air.
The twins lost interest after a few moments of silence and ran through the open doorway yelling, “Corn-y!”
Ness watched Aquilus’ chest move up and down with breath, eyes closed. She could see Eric in that determined chin, Wryn in his forehead, and Gwen’s dark eyebrows matched his. How could one’s life get so bound up in a person but also veer so far apart?
He opened his eyes. He didn’t move, for once in his life not trying to change things, just watching her.
Could he speak truth that even if things didn’t start out right, one could make them right afterward? Biting her lip, she shifted her seat on the hard flagstone.
Aquilus had taken a consulship in Rome and she knew she’d hate it there. If she waited to let herself love him until he’d become perfect, she’d have gray hairs first.
For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1) Page 38
