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‘Lucius.’ Nerva’s voice held a warning note, though the younger man seemed not to notice.
‘I won’t do it. I’d rather marry a—’
‘Sir!’
Livia spun around, as startled as everyone else by Marius’s interruption. Despite Nerva’s invitation to join them, he’d kept to one side of the atrium, half-hidden in the shadows, though she’d remained acutely aware of his presence. Even without looking she could somehow sense his proximity. If he’d left, she had a feeling she would have known it.
She hadn’t counted on his coming to her aid, however, and yet that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. He actually looked angry, she noticed with surprise, his jaw a rigidly set line as he eyeballed the other man, though as a centurion he surely had no right to interrupt a tribune. She didn’t know much about the Roman army, but she knew that hierarchy was everything. Judging by the way that Scaevola’s mouth was hanging open, gaping like a landed fish, he could hardly believe it either.
She held her breath, not knowing whether to feel grateful or concerned. As much as she appreciated Marius’s defending her, she didn’t want him to be punished for it. She had enough to worry about already.
‘Centurion?’ Nerva was the first to recover from his surprise.
‘Forgive my interruption, sir.’ Marius sounded as if he were speaking through clenched teeth. ‘But I believe our guests are tired after their journey.’
‘Of course.’ To her amazement, instead of issuing a reprimand, Nerva agreed with him. ‘We can discuss this another time. Don’t you agree, Lucius?’
The Tribune didn’t get a chance to answer as a kindly-looking matron emerged through one of the archways at that moment, her genial smile instantly defusing the tension.
‘Ah, you must be Livia.’ The woman came forward at once, hands outstretched. ‘I wondered what was keeping you all out here. I’m so delighted to meet you.’
‘This is my wife, Hermenia.’ Nerva looked visibly relieved by her arrival. ‘She’ll show you to your room. Under the circumstances, we thought it might be best if you stayed here as our guest for a few days. Until matters are settled.’
‘If they’re settled...’ Lucius sounded faintly rebellious.
‘Thank you.’ Livia clasped the woman’s hands gratefully, feeling as if she’d just been offered a raft in the middle of a storm-tossed ocean. At that moment anything was better than spending any more time with her intended. Not that running away and hiding was going to solve anything, but it would be a welcome respite.
Then she reached an arm behind her, drawing her daughter out from her hiding place. ‘We’d be happy to, wouldn’t we, Julia?’
The older woman’s eyes fell on the girl and a look of understanding swept across her features, followed by a genuine-looking smile.
‘Then come with me.’ She held a hand out to Julia at the same time as she cast a vaguely threatening look towards Scaevola. ‘You can have something to eat and then we’ll find you a nice cosy bed.’
‘Thank you.’ Livia glanced towards Nerva. ‘I appreciate your hospitality.’
‘Think nothing of it. We’ll speak properly tomorrow.’ He sounded sombre. ‘When you’re feeling refreshed.’
‘Yes.’
She didn’t know how else to answer, her gaze darting past him towards Lucius and then Marius. Standing on different sides of the room, the two men looked like complete opposites. She knew what one of them thought of her—he’d made his opinion abundantly obvious—but as for the other...
Marius’s expression was stern again, even sterner than it had been on their journey. His anger seemed to have faded and yet there was an air of danger about him, as if he’d only restrained, not overcome, his temper. Even so, she couldn’t help but wish that she’d guessed the identity of her new husband correctly the first time. Instead he’d been the one to come to her rescue against her real intended, a man who appeared to be even more loathsome than Julius. She hadn’t thought it possible that her second husband could be any worse than her first, but apparently it was.
She dropped her gaze at the thought and fled.
Chapter Five
‘I won’t do it!’ Scaevola’s eyes glittered with anger as he stormed up and down the atrium.
‘You made an agreement with her brother.’ Nerva’s usual unruffled demeanour was severely ruffled. ‘If you refuse to go through with the marriage then he’ll have grounds against you.’
‘Better that than dishonour my family.’
‘You’re the one who’s brought dishonour on your family!’ Nerva’s tone was distinctly unsympathetic. ‘Drinking and gambling and who knows what else. Your father would be appalled.’
‘He still wouldn’t want me to marry a barbarian!’
Marius gritted his teeth at the insult. The combined effort of biting his tongue and restraining his temper was becoming more and more difficult, but unless he wanted to end up demoted, or worse, it was also necessary. His earlier interruption had been bad enough. Arguing with a superior officer was strictly forbidden, even when the officer in question had nothing superior about him. He wasn’t exactly sure what had come over him, except that the callous way Scaevola had insulted Livia and her daughter had enraged him to the point that he would gladly have given a year’s pay for the chance to beat the living daylights out of him.
In all honesty, he still would. It was bad enough that Livia was going to marry such a man—the very thought of which made him inordinately, inappropriately furious—but from what she’d told him earlier, she was still in mourning for her first husband. What kind of brother would force his sister to marry again while she was grieving? What kind of man would even concoct such a scheme, debt or no debt? Everything about it felt wrong.
‘If you’re so worried about your family honour, why don’t you ask your father to pay the debt?’ Nerva fixed Scaevola with a hard stare.
‘Because he would refuse.’ The Tribune’s eyes dropped to his sandals. ‘He already told me there’d be no more money before I left Rome.’
‘Then as I see it, you’ve no choice. I suggest that you either apologise to your new bride and hope that she forgives you or prepare to stand trial.’
‘Her brother wouldn’t dare to accuse me of anything!’ Scaevola blustered. ‘He knows who I am.’
‘I’m sure he does, but do you know who he is?’ Nerva held up a hand before the youth could answer. ‘He’s a powerful man in Lindum and you’re a long way from Rome. Your family name won’t protect you this far away. Now I suggest that you take the night to consider your choices. Try staying sober for once.’
Lucius gave an angry snort, his handsome features contorting with malice as he turned and almost walked into Marius. ‘As for you, Centurion, you had no right interrupting me earlier.’
‘You’re absolutely right, sir.’ Marius folded his arms pointedly. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Insolent dog! I ought to have you whipped.’
‘If there’s any whipping to be done then it will be on my authority, not yours!’ The last vestiges of Nerva’s self-control seemed to snap. ‘You deserved to be interrupted. Don’t ever insult a lady in my presence again, do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now get out. I’m sick of the sight of you.’
Marius lifted his chin, meeting Scaevola’s glare with a hard look of his own as the latter stormed out of the room.
‘I apologise, sir.’ He unfolded his arms again as he turned to face his commander.
‘For which part?’ Nerva gave him a barbed look. ‘The interruption or the insolence afterwards? He’s right—you ought to be disciplined.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I ought to have you whipped.’
‘Whatever you think best, sir.’
The Legate held his gaze for a long moment before waving a hand dismissively. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’d rather have Scaevola whipped, no matter what his father might say, but what on earth possessed you? I’ve never seen you behave that way to a senior officer before.’
Marius shrugged his shoulders non-committally. He’d never concealed anything from Nerva before, but he could hardly tell him the truth, that he’d resented the other man’s treatment of Livia. Or that, even now, he could hardly stop thinking about her. Even though she’d left, he could still picture every detail of her face: her patchwork of freckles, her sharply curved brows and, most of all, those luminous eyes fringed with dark lashes so long they seemed to caress her rounded cheeks.
When she’d pulled her palla back, proudly unveiling the mass of her burnished red curls, he’d found himself half-wanting to cheer, half to bury his face in them. The way she’d stood up to Scaevola had made him want to bury himself in other places, too, not that he ought to think about that. He ought not to think about those places at all. Even if he couldn’t seem to help himself. The way that she’d looked and acted had been nothing short of spectacular. He’d never desired a woman more in his life.
He cleared his throat at the thought. ‘Scaevola just seems to bring out the worst in me, sir.’
‘He does in all of us. We’ll be lucky if the fool doesn’t start a mutiny. Half the legionaries already want to stab him in the back, or so I’ve heard.’
‘I couldn’t comment, sir.’
‘No, of course not.’ Nerva gave him a penetrating look. ‘Although I do expect you to inform me if the situation deteriorates any further.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘Good. Now tell me about the woman.’ Nerva gestured for Marius to follow him into the villa, leading the way past the colonnaded courtyard to his office. ‘Not exactly a blushing young bride, is she?’
‘No, sir.’ The words made him strangely defensive. ‘I suppose not.’
‘You’ve had a chance to speak with her. What do you think?’
‘I don’t dislike her, sir.’
He didn’t trust himself to say any more. None of his thoughts were exactly appropriate for sharing. Admittedly, she wasn’t young, in marital terms anyway, and she certainly hadn’t been blushing that evening. She’d looked more like a ghost when Lucius had insulted her. And he definitely didn’t dislike her.
‘And there’s a child...’ Nerva closed his office door behind them. ‘Well, Scaevola’s right about one thing. His father will be furious when he finds out.’
‘Couldn’t you lend Scaevola the money, sir?’ It was an indelicate question, but one Marius felt compelled to ask for her sake.
‘I’ve thought about it.’ Nerva threw a quick glance at the doorway. ‘But it’s a considerable amount and, between you and me, his father’s a hard enough man to get money out of in person. From this distance, I’d be lucky to see so much as a denarius again. No, the boy’s made his own bed. He’ll just have to lie in it.’
‘What about her, sir?’ The mention of bed made Marius’s temper rise again.
‘What do you mean?’ Nerva’s brow furrowed. ‘She’s here willingly, isn’t she?’
‘I don’t think she had much choice in the matter. And even if she did, she might have changed her mind after meeting him.’
‘Who could blame her? But she’s come too far to change her mind now and the last thing I need is her brother turning up with a grievance.’
‘What if—?’
‘No.’ The Legate put up a hand to forestall him. ‘This is Scaevola’s problem, not ours. We’re supposed to be soldiers, not marriage brokers.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Marius straightened his spine at the reminder. That was true. He’d been about to suggest that he escort her back to Lindum and speak with her brother himself, but Nerva was right. It was none of his business. Just as the way Scaevola spoke to her was none of his business. Now that he’d delivered her safely to Coria, she had nothing to do with him, no matter how attractive he found her or how much he didn’t dislike her. He was a soldier first and foremost and he had more important concerns than one woman.
‘Have there been any signs of activity over the wall, sir?’
Nerva arched an eyebrow. ‘Still worrying?’
‘The local tribes are certain that trouble’s brewing. I spoke to some Carvetti farmers on the march this morning. They said they haven’t had sight or sound of anyone from north of the wall for weeks. It’s too quiet.’
‘Quiet is good.’
‘With respect, sir, not if it’s the calm before the storm. With your permission, I’d like to take a patrol north tomorrow.’
‘No.’ Nerva shook his head firmly. ‘Give your men a chance to rest. They work harder than any other century in the legion.’
‘Then let me go, sir.’
‘On your own? It’s far too dangerous.’
‘I could ride to some of the other forts to see if they’ve noticed anything suspicious.’
That was a reasonable request surely. Then he’d be doing his duty and putting some distance between him and Livia at the same time—something which seemed of vital importance suddenly. If he couldn’t keep her out of his mind, then he could keep her out of sight instead.
‘All right.’ Nerva sounded exasperated. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll let the matter drop otherwise, though I very much doubt that the northern tribes will rebel again now we’re back up to fighting strength.’
Marius sighed inwardly. For all his many good points, Nerva was still a Roman through and through. That anyone would dare to challenge Rome’s authority was still a mystery to him. Now that the Legion was back to full force, albeit with half of it still based in Eboracum, he simply assumed that the rebellions of the past few years were over.
‘Believe me, sir, nothing would make me happier than being proved wrong, but I still think we need to investigate.’
‘As long as you’re not looking for problems that don’t exist.’ Nerva gave him a meaningful look. ‘I know you still feel the need to prove yourself.’
He tensed immediately. ‘That has nothing to do with it, sir.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Now go and get some rest.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He paused. ‘What about my punishment, sir?’
‘I think a reprimand ought to be sufficient for now, but don’t let it happen again. Scaevola’s a fool, but he has powerful connections. They might not lend him any money, but they have influence and they enjoy using it.’
Marius didn’t doubt the last part. Powerful men always did—and they’d enjoy nothing more than destroying the son of a disgraced mutineer.
‘I’ll keep away from Scaevola, sir.’
‘Good. Because if you want to be a senior centurion some day then it would be wise not to make an enemy of him.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Marius turned and strode out of the office, unable to shake the feeling that he already had.
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