The Roman's Revenge

by Caroline Storer

  Flavius confirmed her suspicions by saying, “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”

  A long silence fell in the room as they waited for their father’s breathing to return to normal again, and when it had Livia asked in a gentle voice, “If it wasn't you father, then who was it?”

  It was a short while before he answered, “I…I don’t know. But…not me. I…I swear it.”

  The full import of what he was saying hit home, and for the first time in her life, Livia took her father's thin hand in hers, “You are positive it was someone else was responsible for betraying Lucius Quadratus Aurelius to Nero, father?”

  Her father nodded, and she saw the relief fill his eyes when he realised she had understood what he was trying to say.

  “Yes,” he rasped, “Nero thought…thought it was me. I…I was rewarded beyond my wildest dreams…”

  As his words trailed off, shock lent a sharpness to her voice. “So who did betray Metellus’s father to Nero? Why did they keep quiet, and let you take all the glory? Surely they would have wanted the wealth and privilege of gaining Nero’s trust?” She knew she was being unreasonable in the rapidity of her questioning, but she couldn’t help it. A sharp pain above her eyes made her feel nauseous, and she lifted a trembling hand to rub her forehead, desperate to ease the pain pooling behind her eyes.

  She shook her head, speaking her thoughts out loud, “It doesn’t make sense. No sense at all.”

  “I never found out. And…and I didn’t care. I had everything I wanted. Money, power, status. Everything except-” He stopped speaking, his eyes clenching shut for a brief moment as he fought his emotions, and Livia watched mesmerised as she saw a tear trickle out of the corner of his eye. “Everything except your mother.”

  Again his breathing got the better of him, and it was a long while before he recovered sufficiently to carry on. “You are so like your mother,” he rasped. “She was so very beautiful. I am sorry for the way I have treated you. But I could not bear to look at you. At…at first I resented you for living whilst she had died. And when you grew up you…you reminded me too much of her. It…it hurt so much to even look at you.”

  Livia had to choke back tears, as bittersweet emotions assailed her. Oh, how she’d long to hear her father speak so. For years she had yearned for her father's love. Craved it with desperation. And now, here, in the twilight days of his life, he had confessed to her why he had rejected her. He had loved her mother with a deep passion, it was obvious now. Maybe he had loved her too much, and after she had died, he hadn’t been able to cope. It still hurt, cut her to the bone even, that he had rejected her, but at least she now knew why.

  A feeling of calm came over her, and for the first time in her life she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and whispered, “I understand father. Rest now.”

  It was as if he’d been waiting for her forgiveness, because he then closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  “May I stay with him for a while?” she asked Flavius, a little later.

  Flavius, who had been uncharacte‌ristically quiet throughout the proceedings, nodded. He was about to take his leave, but stopped at the door and turned to face her. “Your mother was the love of his life. After she died he never looked at another woman.” Then, with a short nod of his head he left her alone in the room. Livia sat with her father for a long time, watching him sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she assimilated everything which had happened this evening.

  It was late when she returned to Verenus's villa, and as nodded her thanks to one of her father’s slaves who had escorted her back, she couldn’t stop a shiver of trepidation as she made her way through the front gate, and headed towards the sleeping quarters.

  The sound of her sandals on the marble tiles was the only noise in the empty and silent villa. As she walked down the corridor, she couldn’t help but wonder how in the name of all that was holy she was going to explain all this to Metellus!

  If her father was telling the truth – and there was no reason for him to lie surely – how would he take such news? Metellus was so bitter, so twisted in his desire for revenge, she was convinced he wouldn’t believe a word she said.

  But then why should he? For years, everyone had believed it was her father who had implicated Lucius Quadratus Aurelius in the Pisonian conspiracy. Why now, after all these years should he believe the words of a dying man? A man who he’d hated for years?

  Because he’d spoken the truth, that’s why! Livia was convinced of it. She had seen it on her father’s face, heard it in the tone of his voice. Why, even Flavius had believed him, as he had reacted with such shock when their father had revealed his secret it couldn’t have been fabricated. And as Flavius knew their father far better than she ever would, he would have known in an instant if he had been lying.

  No, her father was telling the truth.

  Eventually, she reached the door to their bedchamber, but she hesitated before she opened it, biting her bottom lip as a flurry of doubts hit her. Maybe she should wait awhile before she told Metellus anything about what had transpired tonight? Perhaps she should make her own inquiries into the whole affair first, gather evidence so to speak, before she told him what her father had revealed?

  A wave of fatigue hit her, as the questions chased through her mind, demanding answers she couldn’t provide. But she realised she couldn’t postpone the inevitable anymore, and biting back a shudder of trepidation, she pushed open the door to their bedchamber, knowing instinctively Metellus was waiting for her on the other side.

  CHAPTER 20

  She was right.

  He was waiting for her. Lying in the bed, one knee bent under the silk covers; covers she noticed which were bunched around his hips, leaving his chest bare. His hands were folded behind his head, the muscles of his biceps bulging where they were propped up by silk cushions. The posture was one of relaxed indifference. But his eyes, and face, told a different story.

  He wore a brooding expression, his eyes half closed as they watched her enter the room. For a moment, she was tempted to turn and run, it was obvious he was holding onto his anger by a thread. She saw it in the controlled way he held himself; the pulse that beat rapidly in the hard line of his jaw, the darkness she could see in the grey depths of his eyes.

  But she refused to be intimidated. Instead, she firmed her chin and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a slight click, the noise deafening in the silence of the room, before she leant back against the wood and waited.

  And she didn’t have long to wait before he said in a soft, but deadly tone, “Where have you been, Livia?”

  Livia realised there was no point in lying. Just by the inflection of his voice she could tell he knew exactly where she had gone. Antonia, or the slaves, would have told him of her brother's visit, she was sure of it. So she met his gaze full on, and with a calmness she was far from feeling, said, “I think you know full well where I have been. My father asked to see me.”

  Anger flickered in his eyes, and his jaw clenched even more, before he hissed, “Why?”

  For a moment she hesitated, tempted to tell him the whole truth. But she didn't, wisely she held her own counsel, wanting to be sure of all the facts before she told Metellus anything. So instead she said, “He has awoken from his coma, and he wanted to make his peace with me before he dies.” It was the truth of sorts, and her voice hitched upwards, before she continued, “He does not have long to live.”

  Metellus lifted an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by her words, but she was relieved to see some of the tension in his face fall away.

  “I see,” he murmured, but then the brooding look returned, “You should have asked my permission to leave.”

  Anger hit her, as tiredness and fatigue gave way to righteous indignation. Placing her hands on her hips she hissed, “I am not one of your slaves to be ordered around, Metellus. I did not realise I had to seek your permission every time I want to leave this villa.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicio
n as realisation dawned, “Do you have spies following me?”

  Metellus sat up, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger, and with a swiftness which surprised her, he swung back the silk covers and vaulted out of the bed. As he stalked towards her, Livia felt her knees grow weak, and she couldn’t contain the strangled gasp that escaped her dry throat.

  Metellus was naked. Naked, and fully aroused, and heading towards her!

  Blind panic hit her, and without thinking, she turned and pulled open the door. But she was too late. Two hands slammed into the door frame above her head, and she found herself trapped between the wooden door, and the hardness of his body.

  She could feel the heat radiating off his body as he leaned into her, causing her to moan as she felt his erection press against her lower back. Her heart beat accelerated, and she closed her eyes, at the effect his body was having on hers. She felt the warmth of his breath against the soft skin of her neck, as he lowered his head, before his mouth moved upwards and his teeth nipped at the sensitive lobe of her ear. She trembled uncontrollably, knowing she had lost this particular battle.

  “You are my wife, Livia,” his voice was quiet, measured, “What kind of a husband would I be, if I did not care about your safety? Yes, I have a man who watches you. Rome is a dangerous place to go out carousing on your own.”

  He stopped speaking for a moment, and she felt him stiffen behind her, his muscles tensing as if something had just occurred to him. “You are not planning anything are you, Livia? Like seeking your own revenge for instance? Because if you are, you will rue the day you ever tried to cross me.” This time the tone of his voice was harsher, demanding, as he growled into her ear.

  A mixture of hurt and red hot anger once more coursed through her, as his words hit her. With a swiftness that took him by surprise, she pushed back against his body, momentarily gaining an advantage as she managed to cause him to step backwards, giving her the chance to twist around and face him.

  “Revenge! You talk to me of revenge, when it is you who seeks to bring down my family for something which happened years ago. And, before you carry on with your self-imposed campaign, you would be well advised to seek the truth of what really happened all those years ago, before you lay the blame at my family’s feet.”

  She heard his hiss of anger at her words, and cursed her wayward tongue.

  Oh, why hadn't she kept her mouth shut?

  He glared down into her upturned face, his eyes flashing, “What is this nonsense you speak of?” and his hand snaked out and gripped her arm, the strength of his fingers digging into the softness of her flesh, “What lies have your father, and brother, been filling your head with tonight?”

  She tried to shake off his hand, but it didn’t move. With a bravery she was far from feeling she looked him in the face, “Not lies, Metellus. The truth.” Her tone was frigid, but she didn’t care anymore. The truth had to come out one way or another, “My father told me he had nothing to do with what happened to your father. He had no connection with Piso, or any of the other members of the conspiracy against Nero,” and her gaze never wavering, she met the icy coldness of his grey eyes, “And…and I believe him.”

  Metellus snorted, a derisive sound and Livia stiffened, “You believe him? Ha! After all these years of virtually ignoring you, on the strength of one conversation this evening, you have now decided to believe the words of a liar and a cheat, and the man responsible for the murder of my father! How typical of a Drusii!”

  His face mirrored the disgust he obviously felt, and the pulse that ticked furiously along his cheek bone made the scar on his face stand out even more. In the silence following his outburst, he pulled her away from the door, before wrenching it open, and heedless of the fact that he was naked, stormed out without a backward glance. He pulled the door shut with such a force, Livia was convinced the whole of the villa must have heard it.

  That night marked a huge change in their relationship. For two weeks now, ever since he had stormed out of their bedchamber Livia never saw Metellus at all during the daylight hours…and neither did she see him during the night either, for he’d not visited her bed since.

  He left the villa before dawn, and didn’t return until late at night, and then he retired to another bedchamber on the other side of the villa. It was only Antonia’s company during the day and early evenings that kept her sane. Antonia never said anything about Metellus’s long absences, but every now and then Livia would look up and see her watching her, a look of pity on her face. But Livia never said anything; pride kept her quiet.

  But when Antonia left to visit friends in the evenings Livia had to acknowledge to herself that she felt lonely. She even stopped eating in the triclinium, preferring to take her meal in Elisha’s room before the baby went to sleep. At least she was guaranteed some company there!

  And when Metellus did arrive back at the villa, she was acutely aware of the change in his demeanour. Gone was the polite, if remote man. Instead he was a cold hard stranger, rarely saying anything to her, only occasionally asking after Elisha’s welfare, but that was about all.

  It was as if he were punishing her for believing her father’s version of events. And no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she didn't care, she knew she was only deceiving herself. Would this emptiness be her life now? Should she have spoken in defence of her father? After all, Metellus had the right of it – he had ignored her all these years hadn’t he? She had been nothing to her father, merely someone…nay not even that…something… to be used, and used again…

  A sharp pain pierced her chest as she realised she did care what her husband thought of her. Desperately. She wanted Metellus’s affection, his respect, but above all else she wanted his love.

  And the cruellest thing of all, now that he didn’t want her in his bed anymore, he’d effectively abandoned her, and with it his desire for a son.

  These past two weeks had torn her feelings asunder and she didn’t know how long her ravaged emotions could endure the treatment he meted out.

  Grim faced, Metellus stared with sightless eyes out of the window of his office, oblivious to the sights and sounds of the men working on the dock below him. Raking a hand through his hair, he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension there. Tension, which had increased day by day, ever since Livia had met with her father.

  His actions these past weeks had left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew he was treating her abominably. Ignoring her - and Elisha - only returning to the villa late at night. They had become so distant ever since he had stopped making love to her…

  It was as if he had somehow become two people. One was still bound to the promise he’d made to his dead father. And the other…? Well the other, was a man who had become a slave to the feelings he felt for Livia. Not making love to her was making him lose his mind. He wanted her with a force that left him aching.

  She obsessed him. His mind. His body. His every waking thought seemed centred around her. All he could think of was being alone with her again, burying himself in the warmth of her body, making her cry out her need for him, before they took each other to the ends of the world and back.

  “But it isn’t supposed to be like this,” he said to himself.

  “Pardon, sir. I did not hear what you said.”

  Metellus turned to see his aide, Grasus, looking across the room at him, from where he sat at his desk a questioning look on his lined face.

  Seeing Grasus also reminded him his work was suffering too. Even though he spent hours here in his office, he’d been unable to concentrate on important matters, such as planning new trade routes so he could expand his wine and olive oil businesses. And he’d been making stupid mistakes too. A small smile lifted his mouth. If it wasn’t for Grasus pointing out all his errors, he would have ceased trading weeks ago!

  “I want you to bring Spurius Proba here.”

  Grasus’s eyebrows shot up, “The lawyer?”

  “Aye, the lawyer,” he said no
dding, “I’ve heard he is honest, and loyal, but above all, he is discreet.”

  If Grasus thought the request strange, he never said anything. Doing as Metellus bid, he left the room with a small bow, and Metellus once more turned to stare out the window.

  “You do not seem to like Metellus, Portia. Is there a reason?”

  For a moment Portia said nothing, her shoulders slumping as she turned to her friend, a haunted look on her face. “I…I have heard things.”

  Livia stiffened, before a sense of foreboding came over her. Her hands started to tremble, so she hid them in the silk folds of her stola lest Portia see them.

  “I…I have heard he is a womaniser. He has left a string of broken hearts from Rome all the way to Baiae. He refuses to commit to any woman apparently and-” Portia broke off her hurried words, her hand clamping over her mouth, distress etched on her face. “I'm sorry, Livia. Truly. It…it is what I have heard, ‘tis all.”

  Livia took her friend’s hand, “It does not matter, honestly.”

  Liar! It did matter. A lot. But what could she do about it? Nothing. If Metellus had a string of women from here, to the far corners of the Empire, there was absolutely nothing she could say, or do, to stop it.

  Livia smiled at Portia, and if it was a tad forced, what did it matter? “Now enough of this idle chatter, can you help or not?”

  Portia squeezed Livia's hand, “Are you sure you want to do this? Raking up the past is never a good thing in my opinion. Best let sleeping dogs lie I would advise.”

  Livia bit her lip, nodding, “Yes, I am sure. I need to do this for my own peace of mind, for my sanity even, and I need to do it quickly. I don't have much time, I'm supposed to be at the Bath house later this afternoon, Antonia is meeting me there.”