by Carol Ashby
He’d even talked about her cleaning better in the future and cooking the stew again. In the future and again―those words drew a smile. The master was planning to keep her.
Best of all, he’d said she had nothing to fear from him if she tried to do her best. She always did that, so he wouldn’t be hitting her all the time like her first mistress, at least not if he meant what he said.
God had been so merciful in bringing Master Titus to buy her today.
She filled the bowl and carried it back to the dining room. When she set it down in front of him, his smile and nod triggered a silent song of thanksgiving in her heart.
As Titus finished the last of the stew and wiped his mouth, his gaze settled on Miriam as she stood awaiting his commands by the storeroom door. Whatever else she might be able to do, she certainly could cook. If the trader had known, she would have cost at least double what he’d paid.
She was a pretty thing, especially with that smile that broke out when he said she’d done something well. A delicious dinner, a relaxing bath, and a pretty slave to enjoy. This was turning into a much better evening than he’d expected.
“I’m ready for my bath now. I’ll be in my bedchamber. Come get me when it’s ready.”
He rose and left the dining room.
Miriam loaded the wine bottle and dirty dishes on the tray and carried them to the kitchen.
Nestor was finishing the second bowl of her stew. “Truly delicious, Miriam. Master Philip has a good cook, but this...it’s amazing.” His eyebrows dipped. “Is something wrong?”
“The master wants me to prepare his bath. I’ve never served a man in his bath before.” Her cheeks turned scarlet as she anticipated pouring warm water over the master and bringing him a towel.
“You won’t have to. If you prepare the water, I’ll serve the master in the bath.”
Grateful eyes mirrored the smile she gave Nestor. “Thank you so much, Nestor. I prayed so hard for a master who wouldn’t...” She blushed again, and Nestor’s nod meant she need say no more.
“That will also let me finish cleaning up the kitchen and start on cleaning the sitting room and the women’s room. I want to get it all done before the master’s breakfast in the morning. He might want to bring his sister home as soon as he eats.”
She grabbed a bucket and limped to the well in the inner courtyard to draw the water to fill the tub the master would soak in. As soon as she’d filled it to the depth of her hand, she laid the kindling and wood in the firebox under the tub and lit it to start warming the water. She jumped when Nestor appeared beside her and poured a bucket of water into the tub.
“I've already placed the master's oils and scrapers on the shelf there. He may want to wash off first before soaking in this tub. In case he does, prepare a pitcher of hot water to put by that small washbasin. I’ll finish filling the tub.”
Miriam rested her hand on Nestor’s arm. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done today.”
His kind smile was accompanied by a pat on her shoulder. “It’s my pleasure to help my sister in Christ.”
Titus was reading when Nestor appeared at his chamber door.
“Your bath is ready, master.”
Titus’s brow furrowed. “Where’s Miriam?”
“Cleaning. I’ll be attending your bath tonight and in the future.”
“I see.” A wry smile lifted one corner of his mouth. He didn’t care who served him as long as he got his bath at the end of the day. He hadn’t expected such modesty in a slave, even a virgin one, but she’d get over it after a few nights in his bed.
She was a funny little thing, but she tried hard to please him and certainly could cook. That alone was worth what he’d paid for her. Tomorrow he’d find out how well she would serve Claudia. After his bath, he’d find out how well she served him.
Titus felt refreshed and relaxed after a leisurely soak in the hot water. As he left the bath chamber and headed toward the stairs, he heard quiet singing coming from the sitting room. He paused in the doorway. Miriam was on her knees by the far wall, scrubbing the floor. The contrast between the faded-looking dirty floor by the door and the bright mosaic pattern where she’d already washed was stark. For the first time, he had some appreciation for how much work she must have already put into the two bedchambers, the dining room, and the bath to have them looking as clean as they did.
The slave trader hadn’t praised her domestic skills enough, but he had been truthful about one thing. She had a very pretty face, and any man would enjoy that lovely body. The cleaning could wait.
A shiver rippled between Miriam’s shoulders, and she stopped singing. Someone was watching her. When she looked back toward the door, her heart plunged. The master was standing in the doorway, bare-chested with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
No, God! Please, not this. I thought you’d delivered me from this. She dropped the rag into the pail and stood up. Please don’t let him.
She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and waited for what she dreaded was coming.
“Come here, Miriam.”
Those words sealed her fate.
Titus leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his smile growing as his anticipation grew. Miriam limped over and stopped four feet from him, her gaze fixed on the dirt-covered mosaic at his feet. His two steps closed the distance between them.
He placed his hands on her arms and slowly slid them up, then down. A jolt passed through her, and then the trembling began. If he hadn’t tightened his grip, she would have crumpled at his feet.
What the...? He wasn’t a man who took pleasure in a woman’s pain. He was being gentle with her. Why was she so terrified of him?
He’d planned on her being his evening entertainment before Claudia came and later satisfying his needs after she finished helping his sister to bed. For some reason he couldn’t explain, that no longer seemed so appealing. His little virgin slave would submit without a fight, but she would quench his pleasure with her shivers and silent tears.
“Look at me.” When she raised those dark brown eyes to his, he saw desperate fear. She was losing her struggle to hold back tears. She swallowed hard as glistening eyes silently pleaded with him not to take her up the stairs.
“You can forget what your last owner said about me enjoying your lovely body tonight...or any other. I bought you to cook and clean and take care of Claudia. You won’t have to be my nighttime entertainment as well. You don’t have to be afraid of me as long as you try your best to do what I tell you and work hard.”
“Yes, master.”
The trembling stopped, and he released her arms. The relief flooding through her made her eyes sparkle and brought the beautiful smile he’d seen when he kept her despite being a cripple.
That smile made it almost too tempting to change his mind and take her. It really was part of why he bought her. Why had he made her that promise?
He prided himself on being a man of honor. A night of pleasure wasn’t worth going back on his word, even to a slave. Now the promise had been made, he would keep it. Besides, how much pleasure could there be with a slave who was merely enduring his attentions because she had no choice?
“You’ve done a good job cleaning. If you continue to keep the house this well after Claudia comes, I’ll be well pleased.”
His approval of her work brought a happy glow to her eyes.
“You’ll normally serve me breakfast just after dawn. Tomorrow morning, I’ll explain what your special duties serving Claudia will be. You can go back to cleaning now.”
“Yes, master.” She bowed and returned to kneel by her pail. She wrung out the rag and started singing softly as she scrubbed more dirt from the mosaic floor.
As he turned to go upstairs, he glanced at her once more. Superb cook, hard worker, docile and eager to please. The slave trader hadn’t taken advantage of him after all.
Miriam finished the sitting room a little be
fore midnight and started on the women’s room upstairs. It was the largest room in the house, so it took a long time to clean it as well as she wanted. She finished too late to bother going to bed. She wasn’t sure where she was supposed to sleep, anyway. Nestor was sleeping in a room attached to the stables, but house slaves usually slept somewhere in the house. There were only two beds: one in the master’s chamber and one for the mistress. She couldn’t sleep in the bed that would be Mistress Claudia’s. She’d ask Nestor where she should sleep tomorrow. As house steward, he would know.
Since the master said he wanted to eat right after dawn, she decided to start the bread and make his breakfast so it would be ready and waiting when he first came down. If he slept long enough, she might have hot bread straight from the oven for him. Surely that would be something to please even the pickiest master. She made scrumptious bread, even if she did say so herself.
Chapter 44: Not Yet
It was Claudia’s last night under Philip’s care. As she lay in her bed, the turmoil in her heart made it impossible to sleep. She still couldn’t bear the thought that Father was gone, and now the man who’d become the light that pushed back the darkness wouldn’t be with her either. How was she ever going to bear it when she didn’t see him every day? How could she make it past the sadness without playing Conquest with him, reading poetry together, watching the sun set together?
The nightmares were as bad as ever, but holding Philip’s hand while he read let her get back to sleep right away. First, she’d lost Father; now would she lose Philip? He’d become the most important person in her world, and she loved being with him, no matter what they were doing. He was the ugliest man she’d ever seen, but there was no one in the world she’d rather see.
There were so many things she loved about him: his kindness, his quick wit, the way he made her feel like she was somebody every time he talked with her or looked at her. She could be her real self with him. She didn’t have to pretend she was happy when she was really sad or stupid when she really was as smart as he was. And he was so very smart. Talking with him was like talking with Father, except being close to him made her heart beat faster in a way she’d never felt before.
She was almost certain he loved her, too. So why hadn’t he said anything about their future? If he loved her, shouldn’t he have asked her to marry him? Had he not asked because he was afraid she’d reject him like Phoebe had? Should she tell him that she never wanted to leave him, that she wanted him to marry her? What would he say if she did?
But what if he only cared for her as a friend? What if he didn’t love her as a woman, the way she loved him as a man?
The lions came, as usual, about midnight. Claudia would have to get past the nightmare herself tomorrow, so she tried. Tears flowed, but she buried her face in the pillow to muffle any sounds. She thought no one would hear, but suddenly Philip was at her bedside.
“Do you want me to read to you?”
She reached out to him.
“Maybe if you just hold my hand for a while.”
“I can do that.”
He pulled a chair up beside her bed and sat down. He took her hand in his, then caressed the back of it with his thumb.
The effect of the nightmare had passed, but he still held her hand.
After too short a time, he shifted on the chair. Before he could release her hand and rise, Claudia found the courage to ask the question burning in her heart and mind.
“Philip?”
“Yes?”
She drew a deep breath. The time was now. If she waited, she might never again have the chance to tell him how she felt.
“Titus is planning for me to move in with him tomorrow, but...I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”
There. She’d done it. She’d taken the risk of him saying what she didn’t want to hear or saying what would make her heart sing.
For a fleeting moment, the world froze for Philip. She’d just spoken the words that were uppermost in his own heart and mind, what he so longed to say to her as well.
His delight was beyond words, but then it was tempered by the obvious problem. She hated the followers of Jesus, and he loved Jesus with his whole heart.
“I want you to stay, too...but it isn’t possible for me to marry you right now.”
“If you want me to stay, why can’t you marry me?” The pitch of her voice rose, and the slight tremor in it made the temptation to ask her harder to resist.
“I love you, Philip. It’s not because you’re rich, and I don’t care if you’re not handsome. I don’t want to live without you...ever. I’m not sure I can.”
She pulled his hand over against her cheek, and teardrops trickled across it, as they had so many times before.
He longed to say what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t. “I can’t ask you to marry me...not yet.”
“But why? Is it because you think I’m too poor now? I brought some jewelry so I do have something, but I thought you wouldn’t care about that. I don’t care at all what you have. I only want you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. Isn’t it enough that I love you so much that the thought of living without you is unbearable? I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
He was in agony as he heard the pain in her voice and felt her warm tears on his hand. He longed to take her into his arms and tell her they would be married within the month, that he would take care of her for the rest of their lives. But how could he do that while she still hated everything he believed in?
“Tell me, Philip. Why can’t you marry me?”
“I can’t tell you right now. If I did, you wouldn’t like what you heard. It might make you hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
She placed her hand on his scarred cheek and stroked it with her thumb. He placed his hand on hers and held it there for a long time as he closed his eye and leaned his cheek into her hand. When he finally lifted it from his cheek, he kissed her palm before placing it back on the bed.
“For now, you need to move in with Titus. You don’t have to worry about losing me. You mean as much to me as I do to you, and I won’t let you go out of my life. It’s just not the right time for us to start our future together. Don’t ask me why anymore. I can’t tell you without risking everything. Please wait and try to trust me.”
“I don’t understand, but I trust you. I’ll wait for as long as you want me to.”
He stood and looked down at the beautiful young woman he loved more than any other person on earth. Somehow, he would change her mind about Jesus so he could have her as his wife. God would help him know when and how to tell her so she would hear God’s call and come.
“Will you be all right now? I mean with the nightmares.”
“Yes.”
He leaned down and swept the last of her tears from her cheek with his fingertips.
“I’ll be going out of town for a few days tomorrow morning. I need to visit the nearby estates to see what the final harvests are and to celebrate with my workers. I have to leave very early, but I’d like to see you before I go.”
“I’ll get up for breakfast with you. Please wake me.”
“I will. Good night, Claudia.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her palm again.
“Good night, Philip.”
Claudia watched him walk to the door, then turn to look at her in the moonlight before stepping out onto the balcony.
Her heart remained in turmoil. Philip wanted her, but there was something keeping him from her. What could it be? How long would it last? Would they have the future together that she longed for? He said to trust him. She couldn’t imagine any man more deserving of trust than him. Somehow, Philip would make it all work out. She focused on that thought and finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 45: Caring for Claudia
Titus woke early, almost as tired as he’d been when he went to bed. He’d awakened repeatedly, each time to find
himself worrying about Claudia. She’d been so glad to see him when he rode into the stable yard at Philip’s house. She’d been smiling and hugging him when he first arrived, but within minutes he was holding her in his arms as she clung to him and sobbed.
While Penelope took her to freshen up after her tears, Philip had taken him aside and told him about her two attempts to kill herself during the voyage from Rome. He probably didn’t have to worry about her trying to drown herself again, but her second attempt involved a knife. There were always plenty of knives and other sharp things around if she should decide to end her own life. Philip said he didn’t expect her to try that again, either, but how could he be sure? The nightmares that made her want to die were still coming every night. He had no idea what he could do to make those go away.
During each interval of wakefulness, he heard soft music―a woman singing. It had to be Miriam still cleaning. He’d tried to listen to get his mind off Claudia’s crushing grief. It would have helped if the words were some language he could understand. They weren’t Greek or Latin, but it was pretty anyway. He found it soothing.
Claudia had always liked music. It usually made her cheerful when she listened to the lyre player in their garden in Rome. When he detailed Miriam’s responsibilities at breakfast, he would try to remember to include singing.
The sky was still grey when he started down the stairs, but the aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted up to him. One eyebrow lifted, and then one corner of his mouth lifted, too. As late as he’d heard her singing while she cleaned, he didn’t expect her to be up well before dawn to get fresh bread baked in time for his breakfast. She couldn’t have gone to bed at all.