by L. M. Roth
His next words proved her intuition to be correct.
“Your father has gone in search of you, Lady Felicia,” Otho said in a mildly scolding tone. “Very worried your family has been, and he left several days ago.”
He frowned at her in earnest now, and Felicia bore it well, knowing that she deserved the rebuke.
“And my mother? Lucius? What of them?”
She did not ask of Drusilla, for indeed, her social climbing grandmother was the last member of the family she wished to see, as the sight of Felicia would no doubt set her on the course of planning parties and dinners to introduce her to the society she so heartily wished to evade.
Otho’s face changed as a cloud of perplexity crossed it.
“I can not say where Lady Tullia and Master Lucius have gone,” he replied in a hesitant tone. “They left the day before yesterday in some haste, on an errand of some urgency. They did not inform anyone, not even your grandmother, where they were going, or why. In truth, I thought perhaps they had obtained some information on your whereabouts and hurried off to find you. But I do not know where they have gone.”
Felicia stared at Otho in bewilderment. What could have been so urgent that required their speedy departure so soon after her father had left to search for her? And how soon would they return? It was suddenly borne home to her that she missed her mother, and wanted to be caught up in her warm embrace, to smell the sweet fragrance that she wore, and to feel her lips kissing her cheek tenderly.
She sighed wistfully and slumped slightly where she stood. What manner of homecoming was this, to have no family to exclaim over your return?
Otho, however, as if reading her thoughts, permitted himself the luxury of teasing her.
“You do not ask of your grandmother, Lady Drusilla,” he said slyly as a twinkle escaped his bright blue eyes.
Felicia shed a withering glance on him, and to her amazement the old butler laughed out loud. He hastily recovered himself and straightened his posture and his behavior, becoming once again the discreet servant she had always known.
Just then the sound of footsteps scurrying down the stairs was heard, and a shrill and piercing voice shattered the stillness of the atrium. Felicia groaned inwardly and glanced at Otho with a look so sour that it could have withered grapes on the vine.
“I have no need to ask, Otho: for behold, my grandmother cometh.”
Chapter VII
An Unexpected Encounter
Felicia promptly plastered a forced smile on her face and straightened her shoulders as she reluctantly turned to face her grandmother. Drusilla espied her and hurried to embrace her.
“Child! Where have you been? Your mother and father are frantic with worry. They thought you ran away; your letter to Kyrene informed her that you had. If you intended to come home why did you cause everyone so much distress?”
Drusilla scolded her as she put a hand to her heart and fluffed her curls with the other hand. Felicia had forgotten her grandmother’s penchant for nervousness, coupled with a love of drama that frequently precipitated an attack of nerves. She bit her lip to prevent impatient words from spilling out. Really, her grandmother did not have any concept of life outside of her sheltered circle of pampered matrons like herself!
“Come; let me look at you,” Drusilla shrieked as she turned her round for an inspection. “My, how you have slimmed down! Your mother will be quite pleased about that! Soon you will have the young men clamoring for your attention at all of the events of the season!”
Felicia abruptly broke off this torrent of words with what she felt to be a reasonable excuse for doing so.
“Where is my mother? And Father? And Lucius? Surely some of them should be here at this hour of the day.”
Drusilla looked at her with a frown that did not bode well for Felicia.
“Your father went to search for you, miss; in some godforsaken place from his travels years ago. He said it was the most likely place you would go once you left Solone. And see how you have led him a merry dance by coming here instead! He will be most put out and I can’t say that I blame him,” Drusilla tut tutted as she shook her head in exasperation at her granddaughter.
Felicia suddenly felt a pang of guilt at the unnecessary journey her father had undertaken on her behalf. That her father would be put out was only too true. But she would face that fact on his return. There were more pressing matters to be addressed at the moment.
“Where is my mother?” was the question she chose to ask Drusilla instead of humoring her by permitting her to dwell on her own shortcomings.
Drusilla wrinkled her forehead and pursed her withered lips as she paused before answering her granddaughter’s question. For a moment a shadow flitted across her face as a look of anxiety and bewilderment crept over it.
“That, I can not tell you. For she and your brother left in a great hurry only the day before yesterday. I do not know what happened, but something happened that disturbed them deeply. Tullia ran into my room and blurted out that she and Lucius must leave on a journey at once, and she did not know when they would return. She flung the words over her shoulder as she ran out the door. She was most unlike herself, scurrying about and raising her voice instead of behaving with her usual poise and dignity; that fact alone told me that the matter must be grave indeed.”
And Drusilla shook her head as she recalled the peculiar behavior of her daughter.
Felicia’s own brow furrowed as she pondered her grandmother’s words. What could possibly have been so urgent that caused her mother, always so cool and dignified, to forsake her customary composure? And why had she not left a message for anyone to enlighten them on the reason for her sudden departure?
Felicia ate luncheon with her grandmother, a meal that only further served to remind her that she was back home indeed. So accustomed had she become to the simple fare offered at Kyrene’s school and on shipboard that she openly stared at the choice of dishes offered her by Otho. There was rich salmon, as well as roasted duck, accompanied by melons, grapes, buttered beans, a salad of fresh greens, and her choice of two kinds of hot rolls. It was a far cry from the repast of cheese, olives, figs, and crusty dark bread that was the typical noonday meal at the school. Surprisingly, the sight of so much food did not rouse her appetite, and Felicia realized how much she had changed since last she was home.
She talked idly of her travels with her grandmother, who wished to be informed of every incident that had taken place. Felicia inwardly chuckled over the old woman’s horror as she regaled her with the tale of her encounter with the pirates, shuddering at the fate that might have befallen her granddaughter. When they had finished, Drusilla retired to her room to rest. She had not slept well the night before, she explained, and she would welcome a nap before dinner.
Felicia was only too glad to escape her grandmother’s scolding tongue and decided to stroll in the gardens. Her ship had just docked in Lycenium that morning, and she had hastened home at once. The long days on shipboard had turned wearying as she missed the scent of flowers and the songs of birds that she knew would be exploding in Lycenium with the advent of May.
She ambled around the walks paved with large white boulders and sniffed appreciatively the roses and carnations that dotted the garden. She had always loved the color scheme of red, pink, and white that prevailed. Her mother had told her once that her father had proposed to her in this very garden, and given her a red rose as a symbol of his devotion.
Red for passion, Felicia thought to herself. She knew that her parents loved each other greatly, and innocent though she was, she sensed that for Marcus and Tullia, their children would always take second place in their hearts, because their love for one another was so deep and ardent. She did not mind this, as she had always given first place in her heart to Dominio, and all other relationships paled in comparison to the devotion she gave to Him.
A cluster of white carnations climbing a trellis captured her attention, and she pulled the branch upon which they
bloomed to her face, that she might better inhale their subtle fragrance. How delicate and fragile, both the flowers and their scent, she thought. White for purity, for innocence. She decided the white carnation was more to her liking than the red rose…
Just then a sound startled her from her reverie. A stranger stood looking at her; so lost had she been in her musings that she had not heard the approach of steps. Now her attention was caught by both the appearance of the stranger, and the expression on his face.
He was a young man of about the age of her brother, Lucius. He was of medium height, with dark hair that waved in a sleek cap about his head, a straight nose that bespoke his patrician background, and soft brown eyes that at the moment seemed dazzled. And he looked straight at Felicia with his well-shaped lips slightly open as he stood in an attitude of absolute stillness.
For a moment she was flustered by the sight of the stranger and his open staring; she looked from right to left in a vain attempt to rescue her own composure. When he continued to stare she grew annoyed: didn’t he realize that staring was rude?
Finally, she addressed the stranger.
“Sir, I did not hear anyone announce your presence: how came you into the garden?”
A reasonable question to ask, she thought.
The question appeared to finally jerk the young man out of his bemusement. He flushed and blinked his eyes rapidly.
“Please forgive me,” he said in a voice as soft as his eyes. “I was admitted by Otho, your butler. I am a friend of your brother Lucius and came to see him. I was informed that he is gone, but that I could find his sister in the garden.”
He paused for a moment and stared at Felicia once again.
“But I was startled by the sight of you. You looked like a portrait as you smelled the flowers; and I did not expect to see such a vision of loveliness,” he sighed and smiled dreamily at her. “So fresh, so pure.”
Felicia blushed to the roots of her black hair. Was he mocking her? If so she would show him at once that his raillery was not appreciated!
“Sir, you are teasing me, and that is not polite,” she said between teeth clenched in a sudden burst of anger. “I do not find your humor amusing. My brother is not at home, and I do not think you will find my company an enjoyable substitute for his.”
She prepared to wish him a good day, but the young man was shaken out of his dream-like state.
“Oh, I am sorry!” he said as he blushed in turn. “I did not intend to be rude. Believe me, I only spoke the truth. But I lack poise regarding young ladies and do not have the gift for flattery that Lucius possesses. I spoke just now from my heart, but perhaps it is not proper to say such things to a lady one has just met.”
He bowed with one hand placed over his heart and eyes that pleaded for forgiveness. Felicia found herself even more embarrassed as she ascertained his sincerity: was it possible that he actually found her attractive? She did not think that any young man would find her such, having been admonished for so long by her mother to pay more attention to her appearance.
She recovered her composure and dropped a little bow to the stranger with an inclination of her head. He breathed more freely and smiled at her, a dazzling smile that lit up his countenance and took her own breath away. She had not noticed until now that he was rather attractive, having been outraged at his behavior…
Now she remembered her manners and hastened to introduce herself.
“I am Felicia Maximus: I bid you welcome,” she smiled.
“And I am Antonius Hadrianus.”
Chapter VIII
A Love So Right
Felicia was astonished at the change in herself. As the days grew warmer and longer, she and Antonius met one another in the public gardens that were so renowned in Lycenium, and talked as only those whose hearts are one can converse.
No one, she thought, had ever made her feel as loved as Antonius. That he adored her was evidenced by his soft glances at her, the tenderness of his voice when he spoke to her, and the sighs that escaped his lips when they were silent. With him she found complete fulfillment for the first time in her life.
She knew she was flouting convention by meeting him alone. Her mother would be furious, she knew, at not taking an attendant with her. Yet she could not bear to let anyone know of her blossoming romance; if nothing came of it she would be humiliated, and therefore kept it to herself. Antonius would have preferred to see her openly in her grandmother’s garden, but she shuddered at the thought of Drusilla’s being privy to her precious secret. And knowing her grandmother, she would not be surprised if she and Tullia already had an altogether different young man in mind for her, one who would be more socially prominent than her own choice!
That Antonius was courting her he made clear from the very beginning. He loved her the moment he saw her, he said. That she loved him also was soon clear to her as well. She lived for the moments when they could be together, sharing their faith in Dominio and hopes for the future, even as they strolled through the blooming gardens together.
Antonius had been surprised at first by her pleas for secrecy. When she shared her fears of potential suitors that her mother may have already chosen, however, he agreed to keep their courtship to himself. For him it was enough at present to meet her daily, and spend the hours together.
“Felicia,” Antonius began, one afternoon a few weeks after their first meeting. “I wish to ask you something.”
She turned her head to look at him, noting how his dark waves caressed his temples, and for a moment wished that she could do so also. But it was forbidden for a maiden to touch a man to whom she was not wed or at least betrothed. Still, she sighed with longing as she smiled tenderly at her love.
“Yes, Antonius?” she queried softly. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat, and a sudden flush reddened his face as he stared at the ground. His lack of poise only endeared him all the more to Felicia, who regarded it as proof of his sincerity. How much better to her liking than one who could spout poetic utterances and might mean none of what he said!
At last Antonius straightened himself and found the words that he had fumbled for.
“Will you marry me?” he blurted. “Oh, that was so abrupt, I did not mean to just come out and say it!”
Felicia laughed gaily at his discomfiture. Joy beyond bearing filled her heart, and she felt she would explode with happiness.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I will marry you, Antonius.”
It was his turn to laugh, relieved that she had not taken offense.
“Oh, my wonderful Felicia! Any other maiden would have been outraged that I did not couch my proposal in words of tribute to her beauty or character. But I do love you, and find your beauty to be incomparable. From the moment I saw you, I had eyes for no other; and you took my heart in that same instant.”
Felicia placed her hands on his temples as she had longed to do, and stroked the wavy dark hair. She looked up into his face with a smile so softly glowing that Antonius gasped. She placed a finger gently over his lips and hushed him.
“I am not offended, Antonius. For I do not believe the flattery of young men, and am of the opinion that they do not mean half of what they say. Only tell me you love me, and I will be happy.”
He smiled at her and placed his forehead against hers as he clasped their fingers together.
“Oh, I do love you, my love,” he whispered as he closed his eyes gently.
“And I love you,” she whispered.
They laughed together and pulled back to look one another in the face.
“But I do wonder what my mother will say when we announce our betrothal!” Felicia exclaimed.
“Say? Why, what can she or anyone say? Except this: how can they deny holy matrimony to a love so right?”
The days sped by as a dream from which one is reluctant to wake. In those moments when she could spare time for sober thought, Felicia had the uneasy feeling that her mother would object to her betrothal to Antonius.
He was not a member of one of the leading families of Lycenium, although she had heard that his grandfather had been the Governor many years ago. But the family had left Lycenium for a time, and upon their return they were not granted the same status as formerly. Why this was she did not know; nor did she care.
If her mother had her way, she knew, she would marry one of the leading young men of Lycenium. And as he must also be an Alexandrian, the circle of eligible young men for her hand was very small indeed. The Hadrianus family was unknown to her, as she had grown up in Valerium and only rarely visited her grandmother in Lycenium prior to her return from Solone. But it mattered not to her that the family would not suit her mother or grandmother! Antonius was the only match in the world for her.
When she discussed the matter of their betrothal with Antonius and how best to tell their families the news, she found herself doubting if that would be the wisest course to take. Something within her told her that she would never be allowed to marry Antonius if her parents knew of their engagement…
“Antonius,” she said to him one day as they strolled in the public garden. “Something is troubling me.”
She took his hand in hers, and placed her head on his shoulder as they walked side by side.
“What is it, dearest?” he inquired in a voice so soothing that it would have melted her fears, had her mother been anyone but Tullia Maximus.
She sighed and burrowed her head deeper into the curve of his neck. He dropped a kiss on her hair and put an arm around her.
“I have a fear that will not go away,” she sighed.
He took her hand and turned her to face him.
“Fear of what?” he asked with concern written in every line of his face. “What is troubling you?”
“I am afraid that my mother will not give consent to our marriage. I fear that she has already chosen for me and the season she wishes me to have is but a formality.