by Laura Dowers
Caius was glad his mother had noticed his patience growing thin and had encouraged their guests to take their leave. A few, eager to bask in his glory, had taken some persuading, but she had got rid of them all, even his grandmother and uncle, and they were finally alone. Volumnia had told him he should take a bath in case any of the blood from the sacrifice still lingered upon his skin and he obeyed, removing with relief the heavy white toga and tunic, and stepping naked into the hot water upon whose surface pink petals floated.
‘You have made me so very proud, Caius,’ Volumnia said, lying on her side by the bath, her head propped on one hand, the other trailing a sponge in the water.
‘I’m glad, Mother,’ Caius said.
She gestured for him to turn around and he moved so his back was pressed against the bath wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Volumnia squeeze water from the sponge and then it disappeared as she drew it over his shoulders.
‘You received many admiring glances,’ she said as she stroked.
‘From the senators?’ Caius asked with interest.
‘No, you goose, from the girls.’
‘Indeed?’
Volumnia smacked the back of his head with the sponge. ‘Don’t say ‘indeed’ like that, as if you don’t care.’
‘I don’t care,’ Caius said with a shrug, grabbing a handful of petals from the surface of the water and crushing them.
‘You should care, you know, now you’re officially a man.’
‘Why should I care?’
‘Oh, Caius, my dear boy, you must realise you will marry soon.’
‘I haven’t given it any thought.’ What time or use had he for girls? The only girls he knew were sisters of his friends and he barely gave them a second glance.
‘Then it is time you should,’ Volumnia sighed, pushing against his neck to make him lean forward, reaching down to trail the sponge along his spine. ‘You never know, you may fall in love.’
He barked a laugh. ‘No, I won’t.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘I am sure. I will never love another woman.’
The sponge stopped in the middle of his back. ‘Another woman?’ Volumnia queried.
Caius turned to face her. ‘The only woman I love or will ever love is you, Mother.’
‘I’m talking of a different kind of love, Caius,’ Volumnia smiled, mollified. ‘I cannot be a wife to you.’
‘I know that,’ he said sulkily. ‘But I won’t be much of a husband, will I? I mean, a girl will expect me to love her.’
‘Only if she’s a complete fool. Only if her parents have allowed her to conceive some ridiculous notion of marrying for love.’
‘Besides, when do I have time to find such a wife, Mother? Now I’m a man, I will have the estate to manage, more clients than ever demanding my attention, and wars to win.’
‘Oh, hush, Caius. I will find a suitable wife for you if you wish.’
Caius considered for a moment. ‘Yes, you do that, Mother. If I must have a wife, she must be one you will like. Only make sure she won’t interfere with me.’
‘She won’t, I promise.’ Volumnia gave a loud, despondent sigh. ‘And then I must set about finding a domus of my own. I could move in with Mother and Kaeso, I suppose.’
Caius whirled around, splashing water and rose petals over the edge of the bath. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your wife will want to be mistress in her own home, Caius.’
‘I don’t care what she will want,’ he declared angrily. ‘You will not leave this domus, not for anyone. Any wife of mine will have to acknowledge you as the mistress of my home and she will have to answer to you in all matters.’
Volumnia placed her hand flat on his chest, and he knew she was feeling his heart beating hard beneath his warm flesh. ‘My dear boy,’ she purred.
Caius took her hand and kissed it. ‘My dear mother.’
Virgilia Paetina had walked up and down her garden she didn’t know how many times, unable to sit still for a moment. She was excited, certainly, but there was something else, something beneath the excitement. She thought it was nervousness, but she couldn’t be sure. In truth, she didn’t know how she felt; she’d never been told she was to be married before.
Caius Marcius. She was to marry Caius Marcius. She rubbed her hands over her arms, feeling the goosebumps that had risen as she said his name in her head. She had never met Caius, though she had seen him often enough on the Field of Mars. Her parents wouldn’t have liked it if they’d known but she and her friends would often go to the Field just to watch the boys wrestle, and Caius Marcius was always the one they looked out for. They weren’t the only ones. Caius Marcius was the young man every girl in Rome noticed.
Of all the young men Virgilia had watched, Caius Marcius was the one she had not been able to draw her eyes away from. Perhaps because he was different from the others. Most of the young men openly sought the attention of the girls, showing off their muscles and begging kisses as victors, even sometimes as losers. Caius Marcius seemed to find the onlookers an unwelcome distraction, and would stride away as soon as his match was over, not stopping to receive congratulations from anyone. Was it pride or shyness? She thought the latter and liked him all the more for it.
Had he noticed her on one of those occasions, she now had to ask herself? Why pick her from all the girls in Rome who would have jumped at the chance to be his wife if he hadn’t noticed her? She thought she was pretty. Her parents had often lauded her beauty, but they were prone to exaggeration and she didn’t entirely believe them. But her friends envied Virgilia her face, so there must be some truth, she reasoned, in her parents’ assurances. She put her hand to her long brown hair, feeling the softness in the tresses, the slight curl. She did have lovely hair, she knew that. She pressed her fingers to her face, rubbed the pads over her cheeks. The skin was smooth, no blemishes there. Shyly, she let her hands fall to her breasts, smoothed them over the small mounds and down over her flat stomach, to the side, over her hips. Caius Marcius would not be displeased, she thought, with her body, and abruptly folded her arms over her chest at the thought of him seeing her naked. She shouldn’t think such things, she told herself sharply.
Virgilia turned as someone called her name from inside the domus, and a moment later, her best friend emerged from the shadows into the brightness of the garden. ‘Oh, Cordia, it’s you.’
‘Well, that’s a pretty greeting,’ Cordia Apellina said, putting on an affronted air. ‘And here I was about to invite you to come shopping with me.’
‘Cordia,’ Virgilia said, trying not to smile, ‘I have news.’
‘Oh yes?’ Cordia said, taking a seat on the stone bench and looking at Virgilia expectantly.
Virgilia perched beside her. ‘I am going to be married.’
That took the haughtiness from Cordia’s face. She gasped, her wide mouth opening a little and her dark eyes grew large. ‘Who to?’ she demanded.
‘Caius Marcius.’
Cordia repeated the name reverently, then said, ‘You!’
‘Why not me?’ Virgilia was indignant.
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Cordia said hurriedly, taking the hands Virgilia was reluctant to surrender. ‘I just... it’s such a surprise. You haven’t said anything about it before.’
‘I only found out this morning. Father called me into his tablinum and said it was all arranged.’
‘Well,’ Cordia breathed, impressed, ‘aren’t you the lucky one?’
‘Aren’t you pleased for me, Cordia?’
Cordia looked away. ‘I suppose so,’ she said, shrugging her bony shoulders.
‘I know you like him,’ Virgilia said quietly.
‘We all like him,’ Cordia snapped. ‘Octavia has been determined to marry him for as long as I can remember. If you think I’m not pleased, wait until you tell her. She will be furious.’
‘But it’s not my fault. I must do what Father tells me. And besides,’ Virgilia said, drawi
ng herself up, ‘I want to marry him. I’ll be a far better wife to him than Octavia ever would.’
‘I daresay,’ Cordia nodded, scrutinising her friend with a calculating eye. ‘You are so placid that he will not be able to find fault with you.’
‘I will be a good wife,’ Virgilia asserted.
Cordia sniffed. ‘And where will you live? Is your father buying you a domus?’
‘No, Father offered, of course, but the Lady Volumnia said Caius wants to stay where he is.’
‘On the Quirinal Hill? But I thought that was his mother’s domus?’
‘It’s the family home, it belongs to Caius.’
‘So, where’s his mother going to go?’
Virgilia rose and tugged a leaf from a bay tree beside the bench. ‘She’s not going anywhere.’
‘You don’t mean she’s going to keep living there when you’re married? Oh, Virgilia, how awful for you. I’ve heard she’s horrible.’
‘I’m sure she’s perfectly pleasant. And I think it will be fun to have her there. Father says I must realise that Caius will be away a good deal, what with his having to go to his farm and his estate, and, of course, going away on campaign, and I will be glad of his mother’s company at such times.’
Cordia raised a heavy eyebrow. ‘Well, I don’t think even the most handsome, bravest man in the world would make me live in the same domus as my mother-in-law. After all, why do we marry if it’s not to get away from parents and have our own home to run?’
‘But that’s not why I want to marry. I want to love my husband and... and I want children.’
‘What a very dull idea you have of marriage, Virgilia,’ Cordia said, shaking her head at her friend’s naivete. ‘I admit, I envy you getting Caius Marcius, but I certainly don’t envy you getting his mother too.’
Cordia’s words returned to Virgilia’s mind a few weeks later as she shifted her backside on the cushioned couch. Would Cordia be feeling as anxious as she did now if she were married, she wondered? No, Virgilia thought, knowing Cordia, she would be busy working out how to edge her new mother-in-law out of the way, and out of the domus. I wish I was more like Cordia, Virgilia mused with a sigh.
She could hardly believe she was a married woman; the day had gone by in a blur. Her face ached, and she knew she must have been smiling for most of the day. She pressed her fingertips into her cheeks and pushed against the muscles, trying to ease the ache.
She glanced down at her plate; she had hardly touched any of the food she had picked from the serving platters. She should be hungry, but she was starting to feel nervous. So many people had come up to her to congratulate her and to talk to Caius. She could feel them looking at her from the other couches and she knew they were wondering why she had been chosen to be the wife of Caius Marcius. Who was she, after all? The daughter of a family that had been raised to the patrician class in only the last fifty years or so when King Servius had increased the patrician numbers. The Marcius family had been patricians since before the Tarquins, more than a hundred years ago, and were even said to be descended from King Ancus Marcius. Her own father, with a finger pressed to his lips and a twinkle in his eye, had said his daughter was marrying into royalty.
But she had been chosen, she had to remember that. Perhaps Caius had noticed her and had told his mother to arrange their marriage. He had certainly been kind to her once it was arranged. Her father had invited him to dinner and Caius had arrived, his mother on his arm, and she and he had been introduced, with smiles on both sides. True, they had not talked a great deal and she had discovered nothing of his likes and dislikes, but she was determined to find these out as soon as possible.
She turned towards Caius but he almost had his back towards her for he was deep in conversation with Menenius Agrippa. Virgilia liked Menenius. He was warm and funny, and he seemed genuinely interested in her, having tried to engage her in conversation ever since they had sat down to eat. But they hadn’t had a chance to talk for Caius commanded his attention.
Volumnia leaned towards her. ‘You did very well today, my dear.’
Virgilia started. ‘Oh, did I? I’m glad.’
‘You sound surprised. You needn’t be. I told Caius I had chosen well.’
Virgilia blinked at her. ‘You chose well? I don’t understand. Caius didn’t ask for me?’
Volumnia laid her hand on Virgilia’s arm. Virgilia shivered. ‘My dear child, Caius had no idea you existed before I found you for him.’ She laughed, as if she hadn’t just spoken the most crushing sentence Virgilia had ever had said to her. ‘But he is very pleased with you, I can tell.’
I sound like a dog his mother has brought home to look after, Virgilia thought, feeling suddenly sick. She took refuge in her cup of wine but the wine was sour in her mouth. After a while, as the laughter and the chatter around her continued, she tried to talk sense to herself. Of course Caius hadn’t noticed her, she had been nothing to him. As far as she knew, he hadn’t noticed any other girl either. But he was pleased with her, his mother had said so, and she told herself so over and over.
And then Caius looked over his shoulder at her, and smiled, and it suddenly didn’t matter what anyone thought, what had gone on or hadn’t gone on before. He had smiled at her and she pleased him. It was enough.
‘It’s time we went,’ he said.
Her throat tightened, but she smiled and nodded. She was going to leave the home she had known all her life, and she was suddenly tearful. But she knew she must not give way to her emotions and cry; she knew, instinctively, that to cry would make her new husband, and her new mother-in-law, angry. She swallowed down her anxiety and watched as Volumnia signalled to Caius and they both began to say their farewells.
Virgilia saw the surprise in her father’s face, but he covered it quickly. He led them to the door, kissed Virgilia on the cheek, and Caius took her arm and led her outside into the street.
‘Are we not to be accompanied to your domus?’ Virgilia asked. ‘I thought it is the custom for the wedding guests to follow us.’ She saw Caius exchange a look with his mother.
‘It is a custom we thought vulgar to observe,’ Volumnia said. ‘Caius doesn’t like to have people staring at him.’
And so they walked through the dark streets, four slaves, two in front, two behind, carrying torches to light their way. At the door to the domus, Virgilia found herself being lifted effortlessly by Caius and carried over the threshold. He set her down just inside the door, said, ‘Come,’ and led her to his cubiculum, Volumnia following. Caius opened the cubiculum door and stood back for her to enter. She started through the doorway, then looked back to bid goodnight to Volumnia.
‘I’m coming in,’ Volumnia said.
Virgilia was confused. ‘In here? But... why?’
In answer, Volumnia took hold of her shoulders and steered her into the room. Caius followed and shut the door behind him.
‘I don’t understand,’ Virgilia said, aware her voice trembled.
‘I’m not having you expressing any maidenly coyness,’ Volumnia said, placing the room’s only stool in the corner beneath the window and sitting down. ‘This marriage will be consummated.’
‘You’re going to watch?’
‘Certainly I am,’ Volumnia said, folding her hands in her lap. ‘Come now, Caius, get on with it. It’s been a long day and I want my sleep.’
Virgilia was too astonished, too appalled to say or do anything as Caius moved towards her and began untying her belt. She felt her dress loosen. ‘No, I won’t,’ she said, finding her voice. ‘I won’t do it. Not with you here.’
‘Don’t make such a fuss,’ Volumnia tutted. ‘It will be over in a few minutes and then I shall leave.’
‘Caius, please.’ Virgilia whispered, folding her arms over her breasts, each hand gripping the opposite shoulder.
‘You must do as you’re told,’ he said, pulling her hands away, gently but forcefully. ‘Mother knows best.’
She couldn’t resist him. Her
arms straightened to fall by her side and she stood immobile as Caius undressed her. She wondered if her parents had known of this, that her deflowering would be witnessed by her mother-in-law. Had they agreed? Why had they not told her? Why had they let her be surprised, shocked, in this way? Why had they not warned her?
It wouldn’t have made any difference if they had, she told herself, as Caius pointed her towards the bed, and she padded, naked, meekly, towards it and lay down. She turned her face to the wall, listening as Caius shed his clothes. She heard Volumnia murmur, ‘So fine,’ and then felt the thin mattress move beneath her and knew Caius was by her side.
Her entire body was strung tight, she felt it, and knew it would not help her to be so. It would hurt all the more if she did not relax, and she wished she had drunk more, that she had drunk so much wine she didn’t care about this indignity. She closed her eyes.
Virgilia almost cried as Caius lifted himself over her body. She kept her head turned away, not wanting to share this moment with him because she would be sharing it with Volumnia too. His knee pushed itself in between her legs and she obligingly shifted so he could settle there. His heat warmed her, and she felt a tremor of excitement run through her that was instantly quashed the moment his manhood pressed against her centre. Relax, relax, she kept repeating in her mind, but it made no difference. It hurt so much when he entered her and she could not help the cry that escaped her, nor the tears that cascaded hotly down her cheeks as Caius moved inside her. It seemed an age, but she knew the act lasted only a minute or so, and then she was free of him, left hurt and bleeding.
‘Well done,’ she heard Volumnia say, and then she heard the lifting of the latch, the creak of the door as it opened and shut, and knew her mother-in-law had left the room.
‘I am glad to have such a wife as you,’ Caius said, panting slightly. ‘You have not complained, you have done your duty, as we all must. Clean yourself in the morning. I must sleep now.’