Second Chances

by Carol Ashby

  He shook his head to shake that thought loose. She probably just made the decision during this morning’s worship. Surely she knew he would care whether she shared the most important decision of her life with him before she announced it to the whole fellowship.

  She knew she could trust him. Hadn’t she let him see her true heart yesterday when he told her things about himself that no one else but Philip knew? Surely she knew how much he cared.

  But maybe she didn’t. He’d never actually told her. She’d been so soft and open when she cried in his arms, but maybe she only felt pity for him when she thought about what he’d suffered. She’d let him embrace her long after the tears were over, but what did that really mean? She’d asked for his forgiveness, not his love. Even a good friend would do that. What if he told her of his love, of his desire to marry her?

  Her smiles, her teasing, her eyes…all seemed like invitations. But what if he asked and she turned him down? What if she didn’t want him like he wanted her? He’d rather be with her hoping she might someday grow to want him than to find out she never would.

  That would be too hard to bear. He’d rather live in pointless hope than certain knowledge that his dreams were impossible.

  He would wait and see. Time would tell him whether she could love him. When he knew for sure, he would ask for her hand.

  Hector sat next to Cornelia during the fellowship meal. He would rather have had her to himself, but it was such a joyous occasion when someone became a new believer that he didn’t expect it. Finally, everyone had expressed their happiness for her, and it was just the two of them, Anthusa, and Malleolus.

  Cornelia reached over and touched Malleolus’s hand. “Today may be the very best day of my whole life. Only the birth of my children brought such joy. I never dreamed when we boarded the ship that it would lead to this.”

  She turned to Hector. “It was you who got me started down this path, Captain. You’ve made such a difference in my life...and Drusilla’s. I can’t imagine where we’d be today without you. I’m so glad the sea closes during the winter, but you’re going to be gone in three months. That’s really not much time. We’ll miss you terribly. I don’t know how we’ll ever find a replacement for your company.”

  Hector’s head bounced back. Replacement for his company? Can the company of a person you love be replaced? Not as easily as her words seem to imply.

  He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. She’d spoken those words too lightly, and they sat heavy on his mind.

  Had he been fooling himself? Cornelia had noble ancestry and great wealth. He had a farm and made good money from his share of the profits on the cargoes of the Claudia, but he wasn’t rich or of noble blood. Could an aristocrat like her want a mere captain?

  Only a captain―she must still think of him that way, at least sometimes. She kept calling him that most of the time even after he told her to call him Hector. Maybe she only did it because that’s what Drusilla always called him, and she was used to calling him that onboard. There did seem to be admiration in the way she said it, but it still meant she hadn’t forgotten he wasn’t in her class.

  Maybe the class difference really was too great. Maybe God only brought them on his ship because he needed Drusilla. Maybe Cornelia becoming his wife wasn’t part of God’s plan. But when he thought about what she said and how she acted with him, it certainly felt like she might be.

  He would pray and watch to see what he should do. In the normal ways of the world, an aristocratic woman would never marry a slave-turned-sea captain. But his slave days were so long ago; they really shouldn’t matter. Not to a woman who loved him. Maybe in God’s more perfect ways, it might be possible. He should be able to tell within a few days. If she left her heart open to him, like she had yesterday, he would know.

  Chapter 49: Too Good to Be True

  As Hector escorted Cornelia and the others back to Titus’s house, the doubts of the morning slipped to the back of his mind.

  Cornelia walked close beside him, so close their hands almost brushed several times. When he glanced down at her, she seemed to feel it every time. Her chin lifted toward him and the happiest smile appeared. They reached the kitchen door much too quickly.

  As he gazed into her welcoming blue eyes, a small voice distracted him.

  “Can you stay to play a game of Mercenaries, Captain?”

  He broke contact with Cornelia’s eyes and looked at Drusilla. “I can.”

  Drusilla and Anthusa disappeared through the kitchen doorway.

  He stood in silence, his gaze once more fixed on Cornelia. It might be wiser to wait a few days, but he didn’t want to. It felt like it was time. It took all his courage to ask what he was about to, and he took several deep breaths to prepare himself.

  That mischievous gleam he liked so well filled her eyes. “Were you going to say something, Captain?”

  The jingle of a harness behind him pulled his eyes from hers again. A wagon carrying three men and a gravestone had entered the yard. Nestor came from his quarters and led the driver to a place by the garden wall that had been prepared to receive it. Then the four of them began unloading.

  Hector’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

  She dropped her voice to a near-whisper. “It’s to protect Drusilla from Lucius. Tertius wrote to warn me that he sent two men to get Drusilla and drag her back to him. They could be here in five days. Titus and Philip moved up their trip to the western estates so they would be back by then. The gravestone has her name on it so Titus and I can convince them she’s dead.”

  His stomach knotted. “You should have told me, Cornelia.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Her whisper stabbed like a knife.

  Drusilla in mortal danger and this was the first she told him of it? How could she say nothing to him if she wanted to be his wife? She should know her welfare and that of Drusilla were his to protect if she thought he should be her husband. Sorry now wasn’t enough.

  Was this the sign that their marriage wasn’t God’s plan after all?

  His lips tightened. He longed to ask her if this meant everything he feared, but he didn’t. The answer might be too painful.

  Cornelia saw Hector’s lips tighten as his gaze remained locked on the gravestone and the men unloading it.

  “Captain.”

  His jaw clenched as a flash of pain crossed his face, then vanished.

  Cornelia’s stomach tightened. “After you and Drusilla play Mercenaries, will you stay for dinner?”

  His eyes had chilled. Then anger flamed in them. A wall shot up between them.

  “No. Since Titus isn’t here, I’ll eat at the farm with Marcario. Tell Drusilla I’ll come tomorrow morning for some Mercenaries. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Without waiting for her answer, he spun and strode toward the stable, leaving her alone by the kitchen door.

  She stood transfixed. What had her failure to tell him done?

  He tossed the saddle on his mare, cinched it, and jumped up to swing his leg across its rump. He rode past without even looking at her.

  Her stomach knotted so hard she thought she might vomit. He was hurt and furious because she hadn’t told him about Lucius’s men. She’d planned to tell him at dinner the night she saw his scars, but she’d had no chance. She couldn’t talk about it when Drusilla or the cousins might overhear. The morning he held her, Lucius and what he was doing were the farthest things from her thoughts. Only Hector filled her mind as he cradled her in his arms, and then Drusilla had come and the chance was gone.

  He hadn’t been this angry since the first day on the ship when he thought she questioned his honesty. She fought against the tears that were trying to escape.

  Drusilla popped out of the kitchen in time to see him ride out the gate. “Where is Captain going? Isn’t he going to eat with us?”

  She forced her voice to sound calm. “No, dear. He’s eating with his son.”

 
“I wish he’d eat with us, but he’ll probably be here tomorrow.”

  “He did say he’d be here tomorrow to play Mercenaries with you.”

  Drusilla’s gaze turned toward the men who were moving the gravestone into place.

  “What are they doing, Mother?”

  Cornelia took her daughter’s hand. “I’ve ordered a surprise for some men Lucius is sending for you.”

  Drusilla’s eyes saucered. “Father found us?”

  “Yes, but you don’t have to be afraid. Your uncle and I have put the stone up so we can convince them to go back to Rome and tell your father you died. Then he’ll never try to get you again. Go back inside so the men won’t see you as they leave.”

  Drusilla squeezed her hand before turning without a word and walking back into the kitchen.

  Cornelia’s gaze drifted to the gate where Hector had disappeared. He’d be back tomorrow. She’d explain why she hadn’t been able to tell him before the gravestone came. He’d been angry at her before and forgiven her. Once she explained, surely he’d forgive her for not telling him sooner.

  She bit her lip. But what if he didn’t?

  Anthusa had noticed how quiet Mistress Cornelia was all afternoon and through dinner. As she pulled the hairpins in preparation for brushing, she hoped she’d finally find out why.

  Mistress drew the deepest breath and slowly released it. “Today started out as the best day of my life. How could it turn bad so quickly?”

  “What happened, mistress?”

  “I think Hector almost asked me to marry him. He’d seemed so happy after our worship, after I stood in the fellowship and announced Jesus is my Lord. It felt like a barrier between us had dropped away. I was sure he was about to ask at the kitchen door. He stood very close to me for so long without saying anything. Then the wagon with the gravestone arrived just as he was about to speak. He got so terribly upset…hurt and then angry like he was the first day on his ship. It was like all the progress I’ve made in getting him to want me was swept away. Gone.”

  Anthusa watched her mistress’s eyes moisten in the mirror. “The captain is such an honest man. He probably didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him about Lucius sending those men.”

  “I was going to, but I didn’t get a chance. Drusilla was around all the time, and I didn’t want to frighten her before I had to.”

  “I know that, but he doesn’t.”

  Mistress Cornelia wiped away the wetness at the corners of her eyes. “I’m afraid he thinks I don’t trust him. But there isn’t a man alive that I trust more than him. He should know that.” She took a deep breath and released a shuddering sigh. “Well, I’ll find some way to make him understand when he comes tomorrow. A few minutes alone with him, and I can get this whole misunderstanding cleared up.”

  “I’m sure you can, if you just tell him everything. I think that’s all he wants.”

  Mistress nodded. Then she wiped at the corners of her eyes again.

  Anthusa continued brushing. The mistress had made a grave mistake in making the captain think she didn’t trust him. But he was a forgiving man, and it was obvious he loved her. Surely, they would work it out.

  The next morning, Hector was up when the first wash of pink lightened the eastern clouds. He hadn’t slept all night, and there was no point in lying in bed when he knew he wasn’t going to sleep anyway.

  In the tool room attached to his stable, he found an ax. He sat at the grinding wheel and began to sharpen it. There was a dead tree at the edge of the grove around the house. He was in the perfect mood to cut it down.

  He slid his thumb along the edge of the blade. Almost as sharp as he wanted. As he held it against the wheel again, Marcario walked up behind him.

  “Father?”

  Hector lifted the blade from the wheel. “Yes?”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  Before he answered, Hector swept his thumb across the cutting edge. “No…yes, but there’s nothing that can be done to fix it. I wanted something that wasn’t meant to be. That’s all.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Hector shook his head. Talking would just start the wound bleeding again. “No, but you can do me a favor.”

  “What, Father?”

  “Stop at Titus Drusus’s house on your way to work and tell Drusilla I can’t come today. She should expect me tomorrow instead.”

  “I’ll do that. Did you want to come in and eat breakfast with me?”

  His lips tightened. “No. I’ll get something after I chop that dead tree down. I’m not hungry right now.”

  “Will I see you at dinner?”

  “Yes. I’ll be here. I have nowhere else to go.”

  Hector started the grindstone spinning again and held the blade against it. Marcario stood in silence behind him. Finally, his footsteps faded away as he returned to the house.

  When the blade was ready, Hector headed into the grove.

  Cornelia was eating breakfast when Nestor stuck his head into the dining room.

  “Mistress, Marcario was just here. Hector sent word that he wouldn’t be coming today. He wanted Drusilla to know he’ll come tomorrow instead.”

  Cornelia’s throat tightened. Then she put on her mask. “Thank you for telling me, Nestor. I’ll let Drusilla know.”

  After Nestor left, the mask fell away. Tears welled up. She swept them away and willed them to stop. Drusilla mustn’t see her crying. She’d ask why, and if Cornelia spoke the words, she might not be able to stop the tears.

  Hector wasn’t coming because he didn’t want to be near her. That thought tore at her heart. How was she ever going to fix the rift between them if he wouldn’t come? She swallowed hard, then took a deep breath.

  He wasn’t coming today, but he’d said he’d come tomorrow. Hector always kept his word. Maybe it would be better if he had an extra day to cool off.

  She popped another date in her mouth. It was sweet and moist, but all she tasted was sawdust.

  Claudia Aprensis, west of Perinthus

  Maximus and Thrax, gladiators of the Ludus Silani, rode into Claudia Aprenis shortly before dusk. They reined in at an inn on the west edge of town.

  Maximus swung his leg over the tired horse’s neck and slid off. “The farther we get from Rome, the harder it is to get good mounts.”

  Thrax joined him afoot, and the two led their weary animals toward the stable slave. “Day after tomorrow, and we’ll be there. If Cornelia Scipia won’t turn over her daughter, the provincial governor will enforce Drusus’s claim. We can take a day or two to rest after we get her, and then we’ll start back.” He flexed his shoulders and arched his back. “But we won’t have to ride twelve hours a day. The girl probably couldn’t, and I don’t want to. Lanista Lupus said if we get back with her in six or seven weeks, that’s soon enough.”

  The stable slave took the reins and led the horses into adjacent stalls.

  Trax slapped his companion’s arm. “Time for a good meal and a good night’s sleep. If we ride hard tomorrow, we’ll be in Perinthus by nightfall. And the day after that…” He grinned. “We’ll show Cornelia Scipia that all her money and noble blood are no match against the rights of a father with gladiators to make sure he gets back what’s his.”

  Perinthus

  Anthusa had watched Mistress Cornelia wear her mask all day because Drusilla was nearby. But now Drusilla was in bed, and it was only the two of them.

  She’d only removed half the pins when the mistress turned worried eyes upon her.

  “What am I going to do, Anthusa? He was about to ask me to marry him. I know I’ve won his heart, just as he’s won mine. He’s not a man to change his mind about something as important as that. He’s so forgiving that he’s probably already over being angry at me about the gravestone.”

  “He is a forgiving man, mistress.”

  “But I’m afraid this misunderstanding will make him wait longer to as
k me. If he waits too long, we won’t have any time together before he sails again. What can I do to get him to hurry up and ask?”

  “Why don’t you just tell him you want him to ask? He’s an honest man. If any man would like you to simply tell him you love him and want to marry him, it’s the captain.”

  “Men don’t work that way. Especially strong men, and Hector is as strong as men come. They like to think something is their idea. Just telling him would make it seem like it was my idea. That scares men off.”

  Anthusa pulled the brush through her hair. The captain was a strong man, but he wasn’t like any that she’d seen before. The mistress was wrong about that.

  “Do you remember Portia Alba? The man she wanted to marry was taking forever to ask her. He was heading out to one of the provinces, and she wanted to marry before he left. She pretended she was interested in a rival. That made him realize he needed to ask quickly or he might lose her.”

  Anthusa’s jaw clenched. That plan was headed in the wrong direction, but it wasn’t her place to tell Mistress Cornelia what to do.

  “Quintus Lepidus came the other day to tell me he was interested in a marriage with me. Hector said he’s a decent man. I can see that myself. He spoke of his interest, but I know his heart isn’t engaged. It still belongs to his dead wife. It’s impossible for him to be in love with me after two conversations.”

  A laugh bubbled up. “Three, if you count the one ten years ago in Rome that I don’t even remember. He’s looking for a companion and an infusion of money with my dowry, not a love match. That would be a suitable choice. He would be disappointed but not hurt when I marry Hector instead.”