The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance

by Kayse, Joan

  Hope.

  Damon pushed the unfamiliar emotion away. There was no time and no sense in allowing something like that to take hold.

  He felt her gaze on him, could picture her standing there, shoulders squared, chin held high, twisting her ring in a poor effort to hide her anxiety. But when she spoke, her voice was strong and clear.

  “Has he?”

  “His version of it, at any rate,” said Jared.

  Damon shot a baleful look at his friend who met it with a challenge of his own.

  “That portion of the conversation is true. I have employed Damon to act as my husband which I fear the Prefect has not taken well. And my man Kaj assured me my gatekeeper’s wound was not life-threatening.”

  Damon stifled a groan.

  “Your gatekeeper, my lady?” asked Jared.

  Damon slowly faced them. Flavian’s expression was set, Jared’s was guarded and Julia’s frustrated.

  “You did not speak to them of the attack.”

  “There was no opportunity,” he drawled.

  “There is an abundance of it now,” said Jared.

  Damon sighed. “While visiting Senator Manulus’ clients today, a knife was thrown in our general direction from the crowd.”

  “That is not entirely true. The knife was aimed at you.” Julia looked between Jared and Flavian. “Someone tried to kill Damon. My servant Basil found the blade instead.”

  Jared cursed. “Someone is trying to kill you?”

  Damon waved a dismissive hand. “That is hardly noteworthy. There have been plenty of individuals over the past nine years since—” Damon paused. Had Julia realized that Jared had been his master? “—I left your service that would see me dead. How do you suppose I honed my vast array of skills?”

  “Perhaps the same place you honed that sharp tongue,” Jared shot back.

  Damon met Jared’s hot glare with one of his own. Master or friend or brother when it came down to it, Jared had no concept of the life he’d been forced to live as Tertius’ man. And what he did know was only what Damon wished him to know. As to the rest...well, simply put, he fell far beneath the ideals of his honorable friend. He had no regrets and would do every bit of it again if it saved those he cared about, saved his sister from one more day in slavery.

  Saved Julia.

  Prepared to weave an explanation that would satisfy the sensibilities of the patricians in the room, Damon turned to Julia and his breath caught in his throat. What he saw in her eyes shifted the dark within him into the light. Her sea-blue gaze was steady and focused directly on him and filled with trust. The disbelief welling in his breast was swept away with an almost imperceptible inclination of her head and the faintest wisp of a smile. His anger dissipated with his resolve.

  “The attack was aimed at me,” Damon conceded. “For it to have occurred in the light of day, in the midst of a crowded street, demonstrates how desperate the Prefect has become.”

  “I will speak to the Emperor,” began Flavian.

  “No,” said Damon, ignoring the displeasure on Flavian’s face. “Nero is still young, too easily influenced by others. It would be fruitless until I can discover what it is that Quintus is doing.”

  “And how will you accomplish this?” asked Jared.

  Damon arched a brow at him which elicited an aggrieved sigh from his friend, who poured a generous amount of wine in a goblet before saying, “Use of that vast array of skills?”

  Damon smiled and so did Jared with a shake of his head. “I will give you whatever aid you need.”

  “As will I,” said Julia. He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. “This involves my family’s welfare. I will not stand idly by without doing what I can to see them safe.”

  Damon wanted to argue but knew he could not. He understood her stance better than anyone in the room and felt a surge of pride at the determination glittering in her eyes. He acknowledged her with a nod, the pleasure on her face firing his blood. He pulled his gaze away and focused on Jared and Flavian. “Whatever Quintus is doing, it involves the construction of the Emperor’s new block of insulae. Senator Manulus’ clients voiced discontent over their transactions with the government’s representatives. The guild I had infiltrated was discussing the same concerns that by Quintus’ own admission led to their deaths.”

  “Does he seek to undermine the Emperor’s authority?” Jared asked.

  “Such a task would be foolish at the least and deadly at the worst,” replied Flavian. He put a finger to his lips. “You were correct in saying that Nero is impressionable, what sixteen-year-old boy is not, but his advisors are a different matter. His mother Agrippina wields great influence, not to mention his tutor, Seneca, and Burrus, the praetorian prefect. To challenge such a triad of power would be suicide.”

  “Yes,” agreed Julia, “Quintus is a selfish man and relishes his power and wealth too much to risk it carelessly.”

  “Wealthy?” Damon considered that. Greed was a powerful motivator; the memory of his own experience tightened his gut. “A man who needs coin might make drastic decisions to acquire more funds.”

  “He has a reputation of being a frugal man,” replied Julia, “a fact well discussed at Lady Valencia’s gathering yesterday afternoon.”

  That was a coincidence that could not be ignored. “In what manner?”

  “His recent extravagances,” Julia replied. “The past six months, he added an entire new wing to his domus, has invested in a several mines and a marble quarry and recently purchased a handful of gladiators.”

  “Gladiators?” Jared and Damon said simultaneously.

  Julia blushed. “Yes, the ladies in attendance were rather graphic in their admiration of their...um...attributes.”

  A jolt of jealousy swept through Damon. “And were you equally appreciative?”

  Julia gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence, which along with Jared’s amused chuckle annoyed him immeasurably. “Pending an inheritance, I can think of only one way the Prefect might attain such additions to his purse...”

  Jared shot a look to his father, blew out a breath. “Embezzling funds from the Emperor of Rome.”

  Damon was moving toward Julia before he realized it. When he would have stopped, maintained his proper place and kept Flavian from an attack of apoplexy, she reached out and grasped his arm and pulled him close. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to wrap her tightly in his arms and kiss the fear away from her stricken face.

  “You believe my father has...had,” she corrected, swallowing hard, “proof of Quintus’ deception?”

  The grief shining along with the tears Julia would not shed made his heart ache. “I suspect he did,” Damon answered truthfully. “It must be damning or the Prefect would not be going to such extremes to possess it.”

  “How will we find this evidence?” asked Flavian, his own voice rough with emotion. Octavian Manulus had been a good friend. “Without Octavian to show us, how will we find it?”

  “Tertius and Quintus mentioned a man called Theophilus. I suspect he is a slave or subordinate but someone with more knowledge than is healthy. He’s missing and they want him found.” Damon looked at Flavian. “I will simply find him first.”

  “Alone?” said Jared, “I don’t think...”

  “Master?”

  Esther’s daughter Judith stood in the doorway.

  “Judith, I left instructions we not be disturbed,” said Flavian sternly.

  “Master Jared, the time has come.”

  “Time?” The bafflement on Jared’s face turned to stark terror. “Time! The babe?”

  Judith’s smile was all the answer that was needed.

  Jared rushed to Flavian then to Damon and Julia. “The baby is coming.”

  “So we heard,” replied Damon. He watched his friend take a few more paces in indecision, fascinated in the immediate change from a calm, rational man into one that bordered on lunacy. He stopped and focused on Damon.

  “Bryna.” />
  With that, Jared was out the door.

  “It seems our discussion will have to be suspended until after I become a grandfather.”

  Damon watched Flavian trail after his son. There would be no more discussion. He glanced down at the woman in his arms, his heart caught in wave of protectiveness. He knew what needed to be done and would do it—alone.

  But first, he wanted to watch his friend act like a fool.

  *****

  “My thanks for coming.”

  Julia took the hand Bryna extended. It was chilled and moist and the same pale color as her tired features. Dark shadows beneath her eyes accentuated her exhaustion after laboring nearly half the night to give birth. And the babe still had not arrived. Stubborn like his mother, she’d heard Jared mutter right before Damon had dragged him out the door at Bryna’s bidding for a bit of food and fresh air.

  Julia looked around the room, uncertain as to why she was here. Only hours before, Damon had escorted her to their rooms, urging her to get some sleep while he checked on Jared and Bryna. She had tried, but had only managed to toss and turn, plagued with images of Quintus murdering her father, of the Prefect attacking Lares and Aunt Sophia, of a knife flying out of the dark and striking Damon in the heart. It had been a relief when a maid had knocked at her door with the message that the mistress wished to see her.

  Bryna tugged on her hand. “Please sit down. Damon will not be able to keep that husband of mine occupied for long and I would speak with you.”

  Julia sat on the edge of the massive bed. “Of course I would come,” her eyes flickered to her rounded belly, “but surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

  Bryna gave a short laugh, then grimaced, her grip on Julia’s hand tightening as a contraction wracked her body.

  “Breathe, that’s it,” Julia said. “Short, slow breaths until it passes.”

  Bryna complied, releasing one long, slow breath as the pain passed. “That eased it a bit.” She eyed Julia. “How is it a Roman woman knows such things?”

  “I am quite a few years older than my brother. I watched my mother give birth to him and her midwife instructed her in this.” She shrugged, discomfited by the intensity of Bryna’s gaze.

  “A wise woman, that midwife,” mused Bryna. “A slave?”

  Julia wrinkled her brow. She could tell by Bryna’s expression she knew the answer, so it was beyond her why she would ask. She nodded.

  “I was brought to this land as a slave.”

  Julia looked down at their clasped hands. “I...I am sorry for that.”

  “As was I,” replied Bryna. “But if I had not been brought here, I would not have found Jared.”

  “He was your master?”

  A wisp of a smile curved Bryna’s mouth. “It amuses him to think he was, or is, when it comes down to it, but no, he was not my master.”

  Another contraction began and Julia murmured soothing words of encouragement. Bryna hissed out a breath followed by a string of foreign words that were clearly curses.

  “Water,” she croaked out.

  Julia held a cup to her lips. She had been at her mother’s side but she had not participated in the delivery of Lares and the thought that she might have to now sent sheer panic coursing through her. “I should go get your woman Esther and Jared.”

  Bryna held up a hand. “Not yet. I’ve not said what I need to say.”

  Julia looked at her in confusion. She was a stranger to her, a guest in her house someone she’d only just met. What in the name of the gods could be so important?

  “Damon also spent a part of his life in slavery.”

  “I know,” replied Julia, cautiously. “If you think to tell me that Jared was his master, then you have wasted precious time for I’d already reached that conclusion.”

  Bryna smiled weakly. “Aye, I know you have. You’ve reached many conclusions about our Damon, some that he has not even realized for himself.”

  Julia tensed. “I do not understand.”

  Bryna shifted on her elbows so that she was propped against a cushion. “You’ve seen beneath that devilment and unconcerned mask he wants the world to see. You’ve recognized the virtues he has that he would go to his grave denying he even possesses.”

  Julia opened her mouth to deny it, but Bryna leveled a knowing look at her and her protests died on her tongue. “Virtuous is not the first characteristic that comes to mind when talking of Damon. He is obstinate and a bully,” Julia paused. She’d never thought to put what she felt about Damon into words. His wit and carefree manner was endearing. He had courage and a willing heart and a deep seated loyalty so rare in the Roman world. His strength and passion could not be overlooked and truth be told, his touch ignited the very center of her being into a flaming torch of desire. She lifted her eyes to Bryna whose unyielding gaze was more than unsettling. “I believe he is kind and decent, a good man...”

  “And you love him.”

  For a long moment, Julia could only stare at Bryna. “I fear the stress of your birthing has sparked your imagination.”

  “My child may indeed be an influence on my abilities.” She cocked her head at Julia. “Perhaps there has not been enough time for Damon to explain. I have the gift of sight—a seer or oracle would be how you Romans describe it. From the moment of our meeting I’ve experienced flashes of the nature of your relationship with my husband’s friend.”

  Julia stood and began to pace the room, hoping the activity would still the quivering that had begun within her. Bryna was in a delicate situation so she would not dispute her assertions, yet she would not...could not put any faith in them. She held no hidden feelings for Damon. They had become allies, that was all, and she was grateful for his aid in thwarting Quintus. That was all there was.

  “My lady, I see that this revelation has distressed you, and it is not my place to persuade you differently. You must come to the truth of it in your own time as I learned for myself. Ah, ohhhhh...”

  Julia hurried back to Bryna’s side, held a cool cloth to her forehead. The pains were coming more frequently now. She had to call for help.

  “Not...” Bryna bit back a groan, “not yet. That is not why I summoned you here. I had another vision, one filled with darkness and danger. I ignored such a warning once before, did not heed it and paid an awful price. I would not allow that again.”

  “A warning?” Julia asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

  Bryna made a face. “The details were not revealed, they rarely are, but the key to surviving it lies with you.” She caught Julia by the hand. “Damon is proud. He hides behind his circumstances, denies his Roman noble blood and will attempt to cast it aside, but embracing it will be the only way to survive.” She hissed out a breath than began to pant. “Jared is at the door and I will need Esther.”

  Bryna had barely finished speaking when Jared burst into the room followed closely by Esther who sized up the situation. “Damon, set a pot of water warming on the brazier and my lady, if you will, hand me that bundle on the table by the window.”

  Julia didn’t think twice, but did as the housekeeper instructed. She hurried to the table and brought her the bundle of fine linen cloths, a thin length of braided wool, a knife and a shallow wood basin. She set it at the foot of the bed and began to walk away.

  “My lady, I need your assistance if you please.” Esther looked at Jared, who to Julia’s eyes seemed twice as pale as his wife. “Master, help the mistress to sit up, that’s it, get behind her.”

  Jared looked petrified but eased behind Bryna, cradling her against his chest while she grasped both of his hands. Julia’s eyes misted when he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

  “Get back into this room Damon,” instructed Esther without turning around, “I’ll be needing that water in a moment.”

  “It’s not natural for men to be present for such a thing,” he argued from the hall.

  “And why not?” asked Esther, setting the basin at the foot of the
bed. “You’re there when the babe is conceived.”

  “Fine, then Jared can stay,” Damon grumbled.

  Esther ignored him. “Bring me the water.”

  Julia was aware of Damon setting the pot down close to Esther’s elbow but became too absorbed in helping to notice anything else.

  “You are despicable,” cried Bryna, breathing rapidly. “You are a Roman dog!”

  “Yes I am, dearest. All that and more,” murmured Jared.

  “It is time, my lady,” said Esther positioning herself at the foot of the bed. “Time for your babe to be born.”

  Bryna grunted and at Esther’s instruction bore down. It took three more attempts and then Julia watched, filled with wonder as Jared and Bryna’s son slipped into the world with a lusty wail.

  Julia did not even realize tears were streaming down her face until she held out the cloth and accepted the squirming babe and saw one splash on his red, wrinkled cheek. She swiped the rest away on her arm, wrapped the baby snugly in the cloth and handed him to his mother. The babe immediately quieted and lay watching his parents.

  “Oh, Jared,” whispered Bryna, spreading his tiny hands open, counting each finger. “You make beautiful babies, for a Roman.”

  “He’ll have your eyes,” replied Jared, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Look at the way he studies us. I’ll wager he’s reading our thoughts already.”

  “He can read mine,” answered Bryna. She looked up at her husband. “I love you, Roman.”

  Julia’s heart clenched at the tender moment. What a wonder it had been to see, to watch a new life come into the world. An odd sort of pride swelled up inside. No one else would understand what she was feeling unless they too had witnessed this miracle. Julia turned around but the room was empty.

  Damon had disappeared.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Damon?”