“we shall just have to wait and see.”
Cat bumped Pelonia, jolting her sideways, his patience for attention at an end. Laughing in surprise, she bent over the tiger and nuzzled the top of his striped head. She rubbed Cat’s ears and grinned at Caros. “I think he missed me.”
“I know I would if we were separated a month.”
“A month?” She grimaced. “Don’t think you’ll ever be free of me that long.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Watching her affectionate play with Cat, he marveled at how important she’d become to his happiness, his peace of mind. He tugged her back to him and kissed her tenderly. “A month would be an eternity I couldn’t endure. I miss you the moment you leave my arms.”
Quintus finished the letter he’d written to his brother and rolled up the scroll once it dried. Since his arrest, he’d lost track of the number of messages he’d sent Lucius. None of the correspondence had been answered and he despaired of hearing back from his good-natured but irresponsible twin.
For all he knew, Lucius had taken the gold Quintus entrusted to him after his arrest and traveled to Capri to waste it on dancing girls and honeyed wine. That Lucius had been the sole person Quintus had to rely upon from his prison cell testified to the bleakness of his situation at the time.
Praying Lucius wouldn’t let him down again, he dressed and left the gladiator barracks. Caros’s visit earlier in the morning had been a blessing. It pleased him to know his friends were content and encouraged his faith to see God’s hand at work in their lives.
Drawing in a deep breath of cool, winter air, he crossed the training field, eager to get back to sword practice and regain his full strength. After four days, his wounds were healing. The twinge in his shoulder bothered him less and less, while the ache in his thigh caused no more than a slight limp. It was his dreams of Adiona’s glorious amber eyes and flowing dark hair that conspired to torture him.
He searched the stands until he realized he was looking for those same amber eyes in person. Had he really believed she might be there just because Caros had returned to Rome? Disgusted by his disappointment in her absence, he despised the flaw in him that continued to crave a woman he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.
“Why are you out here?” Alexius called from a short distance down field. “Go back to the barracks. You’re supposed to rest at least another two days.”
Quintus waited for Alexius to work his way through the maze of gladiators and other training apparatus. “I’d rather bleed to death out here than die of boredom inside that sweltering jail.”
Alexius laughed and clapped him on his good shoulder. “Normally, I’d take pity on you, but Caros and Pelonia are hosting a wedding celebration Friday eve. I have strict instructions to make certain you’re well enough to attend.”
“I’m well enough now.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the back of the main house. A sense of peace radiated from the domus. The open shutters welcomed the sunlight and laughter carried on the breeze from the second-story window.
A shaft of unexpected envy lanced through him. He didn’t begrudge Caros and Pelonia’s happiness, but he couldn’t stop wondering why God had denied all his prayers for a loving wife and a joyful home. He’d spent years praying for Faustina to come to Christ. He’d done his best to be a good and godly husband, but she’d shunned him and his beliefs. Now it was too late. Faustina had taken her own life after the tragic death of their son.
Quintus shrank away from thoughts of Fabius. His son had been his reason to wake each morning. Every detail from his mischievous smile to his boundless energy had been a wonder. Now all Quintus had left was an eternally broken heart.
“Quintus? Did you hear me?”
He blinked and focused on Alexius who watched him with intense silver eyes. “No. What did you say?”
“I said you might be interested to know the widow Leonia will be a guest at the master’s fete Friday.”
Quintus’s heart kicked against his chest and his pulse quickened. He clawed his fingers through his hair, schooling his features to hide his reaction. “What does she have to do with me?”
“After what she overheard in the hospital, I’d wager you’re not her favorite person.”
“Most likely not. If I’m able to speak with her at the party, I’ll apologize.”
“I’ve known her a number of years,” the Greek continued. “So take this as a friendly warning. Say nothing to her and stay clear of her presence. When she’s riled, Adiona Leonia resembles one of the lions her family is named for.”
Quintus ignored his sudden impatience for the party’s arrival. Adiona may be a lioness, but he’d meet her at the gate when she arrived, before she had time to join the festivities and he, as a slave, lost the chance to speak with her. Despite the countless rumors among the men in his barracks, Quintus didn’t believe the widow’s heart was made of marble. He had no excuse for the cruel things he’d said about her and after all the mistakes he’d made in his own life, who was he to criticize her manner or her morals?
Alexius laughed suddenly. “But then, given the odd connection between you two, perhaps you’re just the man to tame her.”
Chapter Three
“Hurry with my hair, Nidia. I’m late for Caros’s marriage fete. I must be on my way.”
Her nerves stretched taut, Adiona fidgeted with the alabaster cosmetic jars and jewel-encrusted bottles lined across her dressing table. She should have left half an hour ago. She and Pelonia hadn’t started out on the best of terms. If she were unreasonably tardy for the celebration, Caros would never believe she hadn’t intended the slight against his new bride.
And Quintus will think you’re more vain and rude than he already does…
“Hurry, Nidia. I must leave.”
The glow of oil lamps in the polished silver mirror allowed her critical, kohl-rimmed eyes to study her blurry reflection and keep track of the maid’s slow progress with the curling rod.
Thanks to the cosmetics, Adiona’s skin was fashionably pale. A light dusting of rouge across her cheeks and a berry stain on her lips went well with the deep rose color of her embroidered stola. Long gold earrings set with pearls and garnets brushed her shoulders. A matching necklace, rings and bracelets glittered in the firelight. As always, she looked the part of a wealthy matron, deserving both honor and respect.
But you deserve neither, you fraud.
She dabbed scented oil behind her ears and across her inner wrists, but the cinnamon perfume failed to soothe her agitation.
Nidia pinned the last curl in place. “I’m finished, domina. You look beautiful.”
Adiona jumped to her feet, as eager to escape the accusations in her own eyes as she was to be on her way. The quick movement jostled the dressing table. One of the perfume bottles crashed to the floor, spreading shards of glass and sweetly scented oil across the colorful tiles. With an uttered oath, she ordered Nidia to clean up the mess and raced into the hall.
Her steward, Felix, snapped
