by Martha Marks
“You’re saying that I’m making the situation worse.”
“It’s not my place to tell you how to conduct yourself, but you should know what your behavior is doing to Stefan and what others are saying about it.” He paused and knowingly stepped into perilous territory. “I hadn’t thought you were the kind to play such games.”
“You think I’m playing games with Stefan?”
“It’s hard not to think that. We’ve all seen how you’ve kept Tribune Otho and young Titus dancing on your string for months. If you’d toy around like that with your peers, is it likely you’d take your slave’s feelings any more seriously?”
Theodosia’s head fell forward into her hands.
“What should I do?”
Alexander looked at the soft curls shining in the lamplight.
“Go out and talk to him,” he said. “Don’t ostracize him like this. Give him some peace of mind.”
She raised her eyes with a look of longing that jolted his heart.
“Are you sure he’s out there?”
“Quite sure, miss.”
<><><>
Theodosia found Stefan under the pine tree. She approached and stopped a dozen steps away. Her heart told her to go to him, but her head kept repeating the alarm it had been sending for days.
That one passionate hour in the forest could be excused as an indiscretion, but there will be no retreat if we cross the next boundary.
As she considered her options, Stefan rose to his feet. Theodosia waited for him to come forward, but he made no other move, and she understood his meaning... the next step was hers to take. The mistress must go to the slave, and she did.
“Can you forgive me? I have treated you so badly.”
“Ain’t nothing to forgive, miss. You got every right to treat me as you choose.”
“Forget my rights. If I wanted to pull rank on you, I’d summon you to my desk.” She nodded jerkily. “I really did come out to apologize.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I promise that I— That what happened the other night won’t happen again.”
Theodosia pointed toward the sandy cove below.
“Stefan, when we were children, we used to go down there every day to play. Do you remember?”
“Of course.”
“Then you remember what you called me in those days.” She reached out and took his hands in hers. “Say it, Stefan. Say my name.”
He opened his mouth and closed it.
“Say it.”
“Theodosia.”
She rewarded him with a big smile.
“That’s it. Not so hard to say. Will you call me that from now on... when we’re alone?”
“Don’t know if I can. I got that sort of familiarity knocked out of me long ago.”
“My name used to come naturally to you. I bet you can get used to saying it again.”
Stefan was still staring into her eyes. Theodosia raised her hands and laid them on both sides of his face, as she had that other night in the woods.
“My dear old friend. I love you very much. I love you in every way it’s possible to love another person. I want you. Yes... you! I want to give myself to you, again and again, every day and night for the rest of our lives. I want so badly to take you to my bedroom and shout from the balcony that we are one, now and forevermore. Nothing would make me happier. But I can’t take that step just yet. I’m not that brave. I’m sure we’ll get there soon, but at this moment I’m too afraid and confused by our new situation.”
She put a finger on his lips.
“Don’t say anything to anybody about this, please. But know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in the world… and wait a bit. Give me time to figure it all out.”
“Ain’t easy for a man like me to wait.”
“But you can wait. You must wait. I’m asking you to wait.”
Stefan’s nod came slowly and reluctantly, as Theodosia pulled her hands from his face.
“Thank you, my love, for helping me get through this. We will find a way to resolve our situation, and once we’ve done that, I don’t think either one of us will ever be sorry that we waited.” She smiled once more. “Now... let’s see if the porter can find you something to eat.”
<><><>
Alexander was finishing his dinner when old Jason, the porter, wheezed into the kitchen.
“Where’s Milo?” he asked in a too-loud voice.
“What you need?” the cook answered from across the room.
“The mistress wants food and wine. Now.”
“She already ate.”
“Well, she ordered it,” Jason said, his hands trembling. “Just now, when she came in. Said to send lots of food.”
“She can’t be hungry.” Milo scratched his earlobe.
“Don’t argue,” Alexander said.
It’s not the mistress who’s hungry, you fool.
He scooped up his last mouthful of boiled lentils with a piece of bread but found them hard to swallow.
“I’ll go see what’s wrong,” said Lucilla, rising to her feet.
“Sit down,” Alexander said. “She didn’t send for you.”
Lucilla scowled at him, but she sat again.
Dabini and Selicio departed with a few leftovers from Theodosia’s dinner and the best of their own. They returned half an hour later, as shaken as Jason.
“Is she ill?” asked Milo.
Dabini shook his head; then he dropped to the bench beside Lucilla and stared into her face. Selicio broke into a wide grin.
“We just served dinner to Stefan,” he announced, “in the dining room! The mistress sat right beside him on the couch, watching him eat.”
The kitchen hall erupted—an explosion of voices.
Lucilla swung her legs over the bench, her face blank. Marcipor put his hand on her arm, but she shook it off and ran out. He sprinted after her. A few moments later, Alexander did the same.
Marcipor had caught Lucilla near the rear door of the villa and was struggling to hold her as Alexander drew near.
“He’s mine! She promised! She can’t take him!”
“She can take anyone she pleases,” Marcipor said. “And she’ll hear you if you don’t shut up.”
“I don’t care! She promised! She don’t love him!”
“Love has nothing— to do with it,” Marcipor said, chopping his sentence as he tried to keep her still. “It never does— when there’s a slave involved— with a Roman master.”
Lucilla bent, trying to shake his grasp.
“What do you know about it?”
“More than I care to.” Marcipor winced as she stomped on his foot, and he released her. “Consider yourself lucky if you don’t.”
Lucilla whirled around. Alexander blocked her path and seized her.
“You did this, didn’t you?” she cried, her face livid. “Couldn’t stand to see Stefan with me, so you made sure she’d take him.”
“Oh, right! I couldn’t stand to see my fellow slave make love to a slave girl, so I arranged for the mistress to fall in love with him.”
“She don’t love him! And she won’t want him when she hears how often he’s slept with me!” Lucilla sounded increasingly desperate. “This is the second time she’s taken away a man I love.”
“She’s not taking him away from you. He was hers long before you laid eyes on either one of them.”
“But he loves me!”
“He may lust for you at times, Lucilla, but it’s Theodosia Varro that he loves.”
Lucilla’s face twisted with hatred.
“What do you know about love? Same thing Marcipor knows? How many times were you summoned to your master’s bed?”
Alexander drew a deep breath, feeling an inexplicable sympathy for this unhappy woman.
“I know a lot about love. Not lust. Love. I know about losing love, too, and what it is to love someone I cannot have.” He loosened his hold and slipped an arm around her shoulders—more gently than he would
have thought possible—as he guided her toward the kitchen. “You cannot have Stefan, Lucilla. At least... not right now.”
“When, then? Next month, when she’s bored with him?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t want to wait till then!”
Lucilla began to sob and buried her face in Alexander’s shoulder.
“You’ll wait,” he said, “along with all the rest of us, to see what comes of this.”
<><><>
Theodosia sat in her cushioned chair until almost midnight, reading and waiting for Lucilla to come and attend her. When the maid finally arrived, red-eyed and rumpled, Theodosia wondered why she had bothered. Lucilla was surly and careless. After she had tangled and pulled Theodosia’s hair repeatedly, her mistress seized the comb from her hand.
“What’s the matter with you? Take it easy.”
Lucilla sulked, her eyes on the floor. Theodosia stood and tilted her chin up with the comb. The eyes didn’t follow.
“What is the matter with you?”
Theodosia waited a long time; then she smacked Lucilla’s cheek with the broad side of the comb.
“Answer me, damn you!”
Lucilla’s eyes slowly made their way to Theodosia’s.
“You broke your promise, miss.”
“What promise?”
“That I could have any man here I wanted.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
“You’ve taken Stefan from me.”
“I’ve taken nobody from you.” Theodosia laughed. “Oh, now I see. You get a little sweet on Stefan and think that gives you a claim to him.”
“It’s not just that! We—” Lucilla’s voice faltered. “Stefan loves me. I know he does, but...” Her eyes filled with tears. “How can I compete with you, miss? I got nothing to give him.”
“Neither do I, Lucilla. I have nothing to give him.” Theodosia tossed the comb onto her chair. “Now... you must stop being ridiculous.”
<><><>
Alexander was dreading his next encounter with Theodosia Varro. He sat alone, ignoring his breakfast and the kitchen commotion around him, seeing only that glossy head bowed before him in the library last night, remembering the longing in those gold-flecked eyes.
She loves Stefan as much as he loves her.
He could not imagine why that thought hurt so much.
<><><>
Later, Alexander saw Lucilla head for the stables, where Stefan was working. After half an hour, she came out, bound for the house. Soon she was in the kitchen once more, refusing to speak to anyone.
Noon arrived without sight of Theodosia. Titus came and went, but Flavia came and stayed. Alexander went out to greet her.
“My mistress has not come down yet.”
“Her back’s still bothering her?”
Alexander hated to keep lying to Flavia Domitilla, who struck him as remarkably decent for a Roman.
“She may be feeling better by now. If you’d like to relax in the pergola, my lady, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
He settled Flavia into a chair, sent a houseboy to tell Theodosia, and returned to the pergola with wine. Flavia fingered the ruby-eating serpent on her cup—as she always did—and looked up.
“Theodosia’s acting odd lately, don’t you think? Titus wonders if she’s angry at him for something.”
“My mistress has been preoccupied.” Alexander retreated a bit from the table, wishing he could avoid this conversation. “She doesn’t confide in me, of course, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with my lord Titus.”
Flavia’s eyes refused to budge from his face.
“I suspect she confides in you a great deal more than you admit.”
“I’m just her steward, my lady.”
“Of course.” Flavia took a few sips of wine. “We’ve been hearing rumors, Alexander. Nasty things our slaves pick up at market and giggle about when they think we’re not listening. You probably know the rumors I’m talking about.”
“Probably.”
“I don’t pay much attention to them, but they do upset Titus. He’s hoping to marry Theodosia, you know.”
“There are many here who also hope he marries her.”
“His main rival is Tribune Otho, I believe.” Flavia gazed at Alexander, her arched eyebrows inviting a response, but he did not cooperate. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“The tribune has spent a great deal of time here.”
“Is he closer to Theodosia than my brother is?”
“I don’t like to gossip, my lady, and in truth I know little about things like that.”
Flavia smiled wickedly.
“You know lots more than you let on. So, tell me what Theodosia likes in a man.”
“That would be unforgivably presumptuous of me.”
“Most people think she’ll marry Otho.” The devilish eyes never left Alexander’s face. “My guess is... you wouldn’t like that at all. So, would you care to form a political alliance with me, to make sure such a terrible thing doesn’t happen?”
“Political alliances can be dangerous, my lady.”
“Oh, Alexander, you disappoint me. I had you pegged for a braver man. Well, if you’re not interested, maybe I can enlist the help of that big fellow who works in the stables.”
<><><>
Theodosia joined them a short while later, her hair still damp from her bath and smelling tantalizingly of cloves.
She took the chair that Alexander pulled out for her but avoided his eyes. Even in the shade of the vines, she glowed. There was something about her that jeopardized Alexander’s composure this morning, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Beloved gods, she’s beautiful.
“Oooooh, Theodosia, you look wonderful! Titus came this morning, but the houseboy said you weren’t awake yet. He’ll be back soon though. He’s planning,” Flavia confided, with a mischievous glance at Alexander, “to ask you to marry him.” She leaned forward and put her hand on Theodosia’s arm. “You will accept him, won’t you?”
“I... I wasn’t expecting that so soon.”
Flavia squeezed the arm under her fingers.
“Oooooh, you must accept! We’ll be sisters! I’ll come for a visit every day, let Alexander serve me this wonderful wine in these gorgeous goblets, and—” she flashed a sparkling grin over her shoulder, “make him tell me all the household gossip.”
Alexander started as Flavia winked at him.
“He won’t dare refuse to answer then, will he?”
<><><>
Titus returned early in the afternoon.
From the pergola, Alexander saw Stefan come around the house... saw Theodosia’s eyes follow as Stefan led Titus’ horse away. Her mouth had fallen open a bit; her expression was soft. It was the same enraptured gaze as when she had watched him on the barn roof that first morning in June. Alexander stared at her captivated face as long as he dared, then forced his eyes away.
A few moments later, Titus arrived, taking the stairs in three strides.
“Hello, lovely ladies!” He dropped into the chair beside Theodosia and took her hand. “I came to see if you were up for a ride today.”
“Oh, not yet. My back still isn’t fully recovered.”
“Well, if you’d rather not go out...” Titus turned a sly smile on his sister. “Mind giving me some time alone with our friend?”
“Rats! I always miss out on the fun.” But Flavia hopped up and kissed Theodosia on the cheek.
“You, too.” Titus snapped his fingers at Alexander. “Leave us.”
Alexander looked at Theodosia for confirmation of the order. She glanced at him and nodded, her eyes veiled and distant.
Titus was watching him, too, with the look of a future master all over his boyish face.
<><><>
Alexander’s presence made Theodosia uncomfortable this morning. Something in his eyes disturbed her. She felt them on her... a physical presence that she couldn’t escape. It was a relief when
Titus sent him to the house.
Titus reached out now and took Theodosia’s other hand, his face full of energy and excitement.
“My orders have come in! I enter the Centuriate the last day of January. After six months of training, I’m off to Britain.”
“That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. There’s only one thing left for my life to be perfect, and it must be obvious what that is. I know I’m young, and I’m about to leave for the army, but... I love you, and I want to marry you before I go. During Saturnalia, maybe? We’ll give both our households something really important to celebrate!”
Titus’ fingers were slim and smooth... so very different from Stefan’s. His eyes were disturbing this morning, too, but in a different way from Alexander’s.
“What do you say? Will you marry me?”
Theodosia stared into those earnest eyes.
“I’m not ready yet. I’m really just beginning to feel at ease here. I don’t want to leave so soon.”
“But you won’t have to leave. Since I’ll be gone so much these next few years, you can stay at your villa as much as you want.”
“Well... if you know you’ll be away that long... why don’t we wait till you’re able to be home a lot more often?”
“I’ll have lost you by then. Otho’s not going to stand back to give me an even chance.”
“Oh, Titus...” She gave a little sigh. “I’m just not ready to promise anything to anybody. I already told Otho the same thing.”