He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If he wasn’t mistaken, the boy was even more intoxicated than Nerva.
‘So what have you discovered on your travels?’ The Legate leaned back against his couch, regarding him through half-closed eyelids. ‘Are we about to be invaded by Caledonian warriors?’
‘Preposterous!’ Lucius snorted. ‘They wouldn’t stand a chance!’
‘It’s no laughing matter.’ Hermenia admonished him. ‘They’ve overrun the wall before—recently, too. It’s best to be cautious.’
‘You’re right, of course.’ Nerva smiled indulgently. ‘But any further assaults on the wall are highly unlikely. The tribes took advantage of the Legion’s absence in Gaul, but now that we’re back they’d be fools to attack again.’
‘The wall’s still vulnerable in places, sir.’
‘But we have plenty of men to defend it. Besides, where’s your proof, Marius? Have you seen anything to support your theory?’
‘No, sir. Nothing. That’s the problem.’
‘You mean you’re worrying about nothing?’ Lucius laughed scornfully.
‘Yes.’ Marius didn’t bother to look at him. ‘Something just feels wrong.’
Nerva sighed sceptically. ‘Look, I know you’ve been here longer than the rest of us, but perhaps you’ve simply got used to fighting. Trust me, the rebellion’s over. It’s probably just quiet because the tribes have learned their lesson.’
‘Or perhaps they’re regrouping, sir. They know that once the wall is fully repaired they’ll have lost their advantage. If they’re planning an assault, it will be soon. Spring’s here and the weather’s already warming up.’
‘All right.’ Nerva pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose and squeezed. ‘Supposing you’re right, what exactly do you suggest I do about it?’
‘As I said last night, sir, with your permission, I’d like to lead a patrol north to investigate.’
‘Isn’t that dangerous?’
The voice was oddly high-pitched—so different from her usual tone that for a moment he didn’t recognise it as Livia’s. It was the first time that she’d spoken since his arrival and all eyes turned towards her at once.
‘Only for most soldiers.’ Nerva chuckled. ‘Marius here is an exception.’
Scaevola gave another snort and the Legate’s eyebrows arched upwards interrogatively.
‘Unless you’d prefer to go, Lucius? Your father told me you needed military experience. This would be a perfect opportunity.’
‘Me?’
Marius bit back a smile, gratified to see the look of horror on the younger man’s face. It would serve him right if he were sent north, though not the men he commanded. They deserved better than an arrogant youth. Even the tribes deserved better. If there wasn’t a rebellion already, then there would be by the time Scaevola had finished.
Marius stole another furtive glance towards Livia, just in time to catch the flash of concern in her eyes before she dropped them again. Was she worried about him? The thought made him feel even closer to her and he looked away again. That was the last thing he needed.
‘I thought not.’ Nerva’s tone was mocking. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t do that to you on the eve of your wedding.’
Marius’s amusement fled at once. The eve of their wedding? Meaning that the wedding was going to take place tomorrow? He wondered what Nerva had said to persuade Scaevola to go ahead with it. Probably just the blunt truth, that he faced imprisonment otherwise, but confronted with the reality, he realised that he’d been hoping Scaevola would refuse anyway, that he’d object and leave Livia free. Not that her freedom would make any difference to him, he reminded himself. He had nothing to offer beyond a small room in a barrack block and a centurion’s pay, but at least she wouldn’t have to marry against her will.
‘Perhaps I should lead a patrol.’ Scaevola’s tone was sullen. ‘Then I could teach those red-headed barbarians a lesson.’
A heavy silence descended over the room. Marius looked quickly towards Livia, but her expression seemed even more frozen than before.
‘Lucius!’ Nerva’s voice had lost all trace of mockery. ‘There are ladies present.’
‘Forgive me.’ Scaevola looked pointedly towards Hermenia. ‘I forgot.’
‘Of course you did.’ The Legate’s wife got to her feet haughtily. ‘But it’s getting late. I believe we ladies ought to retire.’
‘Good idea. I’ve no desire to continue mixing with people who look like savages either.’
‘I am not a savage!’ Livia’s voice echoed loudly around the room, vibrating with emotion. ‘My daughter is not a savage!’
‘Of course not.’ Hermenia reached a hand across the table towards her. ‘She’s the sweetest child I ever laid eyes on.’
‘You keep her, then.’ Lucius swayed as he sat up, pointing one finger accusingly towards Livia. ‘Your brother ought to cover more than my debts if he wants me to take the pair of you. I ought to be paid, too!’
Marius was out of his seat and on his feet before the other man had finished speaking, closing the space between them in two strides, but Livia was there before him, lifting the amphora of wine from the table and depositing the contents over Scaevola’s head. For a few seconds, the Tribune’s face took on a look of open-mouthed incredulity before he shot to his feet, dripping purple liquid.
‘You did that deliberately!’ Scaevola’s face was mottled with anger, almost the same shade as the wine. ‘You all saw it!’
‘I dropped it.’ After her outburst, Livia sounded almost unnaturally calm.
‘You did not!’
‘Of course she did.’ Hermenia went to stand beside her. ‘I saw it fall.’
‘I won’t be insulted like this! If you won’t punish her, then I will!’
‘Lucius!’ Nerva sounded completely sober now. ‘We’ll speak in my office. Marius?’ He gave him a pointed look as he passed by. ‘Stay here.’
‘And I’ll find a fresh tunic.’ Hermenia followed after them, turning at the last moment to murmur a low ‘Brava, Livia’ over her shoulder.
Marius stared after them, slowly uncurling his fists and flexing his fingers, stunned by the realisation of what he’d almost done. He’d crossed the room with every intention of striking a senior officer, an act of disobedience that even Nerva wouldn’t have been able to ignore. It would have been a brief victory, a momentary satisfaction that would have destroyed his career and ended all chances of promotion, earning him a flogging at the very least.
He would have ended up just like his father.
Slowly, he turned his head towards Livia. In the light of a flickering oil lamp, her hair seemed to glow even brighter than before, vibrant and mesmerising. She was standing perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall, though judging by her glazed expression, he doubted that she could see anything. If she hadn’t acted first, then he would have lost everything. He would have ruined his career—his life—for a woman he’d met only the day before, a woman who was going to marry another man, a woman whom, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to haul into his arms.
The best thing he could do for them both was to leave. Leave and take a patrol north and only come back once she was married. With any luck, Scaevola would have been transferred to another fort by then, taking her with him, or if not then perhaps he could request to be posted elsewhere himself. Anything to make sure that he’d never see her again, to make doubly sure they wouldn’t ever be alone together. As they were now.
He flexed his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the feeling of tension. Leaving was the best thing he could do, but Nerva had told him to stay where he was—and even if he hadn’t, he had a feeling that his feet wouldn’t take him anywhere. If his eyes wouldn’t obey when he told them to look away, then what hope did he have of commanding the rest of his body? Besides, he couldn’t go, not
now... It would feel like abandonment and, for whatever reason, he couldn’t abandon her.
‘Livia?’
He used his Centurion’s voice, one that never failed to attract attention, and she spun around, catching her breath as if she were coming out of a trance.
‘Marius.’ Her expression looked haunted somehow. ‘Why couldn’t it have been you?’
He knitted his brows. What did she mean, that she wished she’d poured her wine over his head instead? That would have had fewer consequences, he supposed, though he wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. Considering that he’d been ready to risk his career for her, it seemed somewhat churlish, too.
‘Not that.’ She shook her head, as if she had guessed what he was thinking. ‘I mean, why couldn’t you have been the one I was supposed to marry? I thought that you were when we met. I wish it had been true.’
He didn’t answer, using every ounce of self-discipline he possessed to stop himself from crossing the room and going to her. The words made his pulse quicken, but what could he say? That he wished it, too?
Did he?
The idea took him by surprise. Marriage had no place in his carefully planned future. He’d always considered the army his life and yet the thought of marrying her made all his other ambitions seem less important suddenly. But it was impossible. What good was wishing in the face of hard reality? Even if her marriage to Scaevola didn’t go ahead, he could never offer for her. For one thing, her brother would never consider him a good enough match and, for another, he doubted that she’d want to ally herself to a man with his family history. Who would want to share his family dishonour?
‘I’m sorry.’ Her expression turned apologetic as the silence lengthened between them. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. What must you think of me?’
‘I think...’ he spoke slowly, trying to work out his feelings as he did so, ‘...that I’m grateful to you.’
‘Grateful? For what?’
‘Because if you hadn’t poured that wine over him, I would have rammed his teeth into the back of his skull.’
‘You would?’ Her eyes widened with a look of surprise, quickly followed by a hint of laughter. ‘I think I might have enjoyed that.’
‘Except that I would have been in prison by now.’
‘Oh.’ She turned serious again. ‘Then I’m glad that I did it, whatever the consequences.’
Her gaze flickered towards the door, as if she expected those same consequences to rush through at any moment, and he curled his hands into fists again. Somewhere Nerva and Scaevola were discussing that very subject. No doubt Scaevola was still furious. He wouldn’t forget such an insult, nor leave it unpunished either, though whether he’d take his revenge before or after the wedding was another question.
As much as he hated to admit it, she was right to be anxious. And once she was married to Scaevola there would be nothing he could do to protect her. She’d be completely at the other man’s mercy.
Somehow he found himself standing in front of her. ‘Isn’t there any way...?’
‘No.’ She shook her head even before he finished the question. ‘There’s no way out. I told you, my brother has arranged a marriage he thinks will be useful to him. I don’t have a choice.’
‘But if you told him how Scaevola insulted you?’
‘Scaevola didn’t say anything that Tarquinius wouldn’t agree with.’ She gave a brittle-looking smile. ‘They’re similar in a lot of ways. In any case, I can’t go back to Lindum, not unless Scaevola himself breaks the arrangement, and even then...’
‘Then?’
Her expression looked haunted again. ‘Then I don’t know what would happen. Tarquinius might not take us back. He might say it was all my fault. I’m trapped.’
She twisted away from him, but he put an arm out instinctively, her final word ringing in his ears. Trapped. Just like him, she was at the mercy of powerful men who thought they could treat people however they wanted, as if human beings were just pawns in a game in which they decided the rules. He’d spent thirteen years of his life pushing against the bars of his own cage. He couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning her in hers.
‘Livia.’ He murmured her name and she stopped moving at once. Her orange tunic was lower cut than the one she’d been wearing the day before so that he could see the curve of her breasts above the fabric, rising and falling erratically, barely a hair’s breadth away from his arm.
‘If there were something I could do...’ His voice seemed to have gravel in it.
She looked up at that, her lips parting slightly as her breathing seemed to accelerate even faster. ‘You could kiss me.’
He held himself completely still for a moment, wondering if he’d misheard her. Then she took hold of his outstretched hand, enveloping it between both of hers before lifting it to her cheek.
‘Unless you think I’m a red-haired savage as well?’
‘You know that I don’t.’ Her cheek felt as smooth as the silk she was wearing. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen anywhere in the Empire, but you’re marrying another man.’
‘Who might come back at any moment.’ She rubbed her cheek against his hand briefly before pulling it away. ‘You’re right. I just wanted to know how it would feel.’
‘My hand?’
‘No.’ Dark lashes fluttered over luminous blue-green eyes. ‘I wanted to know how it would feel to be kissed by someone I wanted to kiss... Just once.’
Somewhere in his mind he registered a dull sense of surprise at what the words suggested about her first marriage, but he didn’t bother to dwell on it. He didn’t need any further encouragement either. He reached for her instead, cupping the sides of her face in both hands as he lowered his mouth towards hers, kissing her with an intensity that seemed only to build in strength. Her lips were soft and warm and tasted faintly of wine, intoxicating in more ways than one and arousing beyond measure.
He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of her mouth before slipping inside. She let out a faint gasp, her body stiffening in surprise, before she looped her arms up around his neck and lifted her own tongue to meet his. Emboldened, he pushed his hands through her hair, teasing his way through the curls before sliding them over her shoulders, past the rounded curves of her breasts and down to her waist, pulling her towards him so that their bodies were pressed tight, even tighter than they had been that morning, only now with no armour between them.
He moaned against her mouth and she broke the kiss, tipping her head back with an echoing murmur of pleasure, and he sank his mouth against the smooth line of her throat, inhaling the faint verbena scent of her skin. He felt his groin tighten even more in response. He wanted her. At that moment, he wanted her so badly that he was prepared to risk everything to have her. He’d never wanted any woman so much. Her hands moved over his shoulder blades and he pressed his lips against the mounds of her breasts, feeling almost ferocious with need. So did she, if the sharp stab of her nails against the back of his neck was anything to go by...
The sound of a muffled exclamation brought them both back to reality with a jolt.
‘Ah, Marius, Livia, there you are!’
Hermenia stood in the doorway, her raised voice making it obvious she wasn’t really talking to them, the horrified look in her eyes belying her cheerful-sounding tone.
Marius heeded the warning instantly, dropping his hands to his sides and moving away at the sound of approaching footsteps. Livia moved, too, snatching up a cup of wine from the table and gulping the contents with a speed that would have put most of his legionaries to shame.
He felt a spasm of dread. Had she drunk more than he’d realised, after all? Was that the reason why she’d asked him to kiss her?
No. The swift glance she gave him just before Nerva rounded the corner of the dining room assured him of that fact. She was sober.
‘Good. You’re still here.’ Nerva gave Marius a stern look.
‘Yes, but it’s too late to talk tonight.’ Hermenia seemed to have recovered from her shock sufficiently to take charge of the situation. ‘Marius has been riding all day. Surely you can discuss matters tomorrow?’
‘Now would be better.’
‘It’s been a trying evening.’ The martial gleam in her eye didn’t brook any argument. ‘I think we’d all appreciate a good night’s sleep.’
Nerva frowned, but didn’t argue any further, and Marius found himself exhaling with relief. There was no sign of Scaevola for some reason, but he didn’t feel calm enough to speak with his commanding officer just yet. Livia was still too close, looking more enticing than ever with her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, tempting him to throw caution to the winds all over again.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He seemed to lose his mind every time she was close. If he threw caution to the winds, then it would only destroy both of their lives. They were both of them trapped.
In which case, the sooner he requested a transfer to another fort, the better. Only not tonight. Tonight he had to get out of there—as quickly as possible.
‘I am tired, sir.’ He made a formal bow, retreating behind his customary stern facade as he strode quickly towards the door. ‘Goodnight, ladies.’
Chapter Nine
‘Where’s Scaevola?’ It was Hermenia who asked the question.
Livia lifted her head, belatedly realising that her intended was nowhere to be seen. She supposed that she really ought to be the one asking about his whereabouts, but then she didn’t care. All she cared about, she realised, was the man who’d just left.
‘I’ve ordered him to go and sleep off the wine.’ Nerva was still scowling.
‘Ah.’ Hermenia’s gaze flickered towards her. ‘Well, perhaps that’s for the best.’
‘I’ve also persuaded him that what happened tonight was an accident. He’s agreed for the wedding to go ahead tomorrow.’
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