Read A Stray Drop of Blood Online

Authors: Roseanna M. White

A Stray Drop of Blood (67 page)

He drew a deep breath in as he went in search of him, knowing well where to find him at this hour of the day. The evening meal would take place in an hour, so Caius would be sipping his wine, relaxing to the strains of music one of the slaves would produce. Titus found him exactly as he expected, but still, the mere sight of him caused him pause.

What right did Caius Asinius have to lounge on his chaise without a care, when Abigail was still trying to heal from the injuries he had inflicted? How could he smile at a slave girl like that when the woman Titus loved still fought tears every day over their lost child? His hand balled into a fist, but he murmured a prayer for calm and strength and only stepped into the room when he felt it descend upon him.


Titus.” Surprise colored Caius’s tone. He gave a cold smile. “You have been avoiding me, which is too bad. I have been wanting to apologize.”

Titus straightened his spine, knowing there was no remorse inside his father’s heart. “Indeed?”

Caius nodded, that terrible smile still in place. “Oh, yes, indeed. I heard the pregnancy was terminated, of course, but still, I am sorry. I would have wished the whore to die as well. Then you would have been thanking me for freeing you from her spell.”

He felt his fingers curling into a fist again. “I will thank you anyway,” he said carefully, gaining Caius’s undivided attention with his words. “Your cruelty has opened my eyes, and I have finally decided on a course of action. I am going to marry Abigail.” He already had the certificate drawn up, though he knew convincing her would be a task. She would think only of his sacrifices at first. But he would prevail.

Caius stilled, his smile fading. “You will not.”


I am offering no choice.” Titus stared down the man who absently swirled his chalice of wine. “There is nothing you can do to change my mind. If you decide to disown me and keep me from the family business, I cannot stop you, but it will not stop
me
. And you know Rome will talk, if you do that. There is no other heir. If you disinherit me, everything you worked for will revert to the state when you die.”

Caius made no overt move, but his fingers tightened around the cup, and his jaw clenched. “You would throw away your life for that wench?” Without warning, he dashed the cup to the ground. The slaves jumped, but Titus did not so much as budge. “You are an Asinius! You have responsibilities!”


And I will not walk away from them unless you force me to. I will marry Abigail. You cannot stop me. I am a grown man, I do not need your permission, and I am certain I can make my own capital if you refuse me any of yours. There are several improvements that could be made to the Visibullis estate that would provide a steady income for us.”

Caius’s face mottled in rage, and he surged to his feet. “You would steal the wealth of your friend, as you steal his family?”


Of course not.” Titus crossed his arms over his chest. “I would use my earnings from the military to make a few purchases that I would join to his estate, and I would live only from the profit it produced. I would not touch Benjamin’s inheritance for myself. And that only if you followed through on your threats. It is your decision, Father. I just want you to know your choices. You can deliver to me what is mine, or you can refuse. Either way, I will marry the woman I love. We will leave this house as soon as we can. I have already found many suitable servants for the villa, and it will not be many days more before all is in place there for her arrival. A few more days, Father. What happens between us from there is up to you.”

Caius sliced a hand through the air. “I did not raise you for such insolence!”

Titus smiled, amused. “Actually, you did.”

Caius calmed suddenly, his eyes burning with repressed emotion. His voice was even, hard, and unforgiving. “Have it your way, Titus. Go with your whore. Manage my business, too, I will not have Rome saying I turned my back on my son over something as insignificant as a Jewish slave girl. But I will never acknowledge her as your wife, and neither will Rome. You will crucify yourself with this decision.”

Titus’s lips twisted upward. “We shall see about that. If Abigail has any talent, it is inspiring love in those around her. I am glad to hear you will not destroy our businesses by forcing me from them. But I am sorry you will not be a part of my family.”

He turned and strode from the room.

 

~*~

 

Caius watched his retreating form with a bitter scowl. It had been two weeks since he had that wench whimpering at his mercy, and he had not so much as caught a glimpse of her or anyone in her circle since. He knew that his wife was with them almost incessantly, that most of the slaves were siding with them, too. “I should have killed her when I had the chance.”


There is another way.”

He turned at the familiar voice, smiling when Caelia appeared. Her face was a mask of serenity, but her eyes roiled with hatred. It pleased him to see her like this, as she had been on a few other occasions. It lent her a fire that translated well into passion. “And what is that?”

She moved her lips into the semblance of a smile. “It is simple enough in principle, but it may require a bit of orchestration in practice. You must be ready to seize the moment whenever it arrives, Master.”

Caius’s heart lit with the same spark. “Tell me.”

 

~*~

 


The bruises are all but gone. Another day or two and the marks will have vanished. By that time, I will have the villa ready for you, my love.”

Abigail smiled and turned into the hand with which Titus caressed her face. She cradled Benjamin, trying to urge him into sleep. “Thank you, Titus. I know you do not wish me to leave your side, but this is the best decision.”


I know.” He smiled and leaned over to kiss her softly. “The morning after next, I will have to make a trip that will keep me away for two days. I have located a man wanting to sell two ships for a very reasonable fare, but he will only deal with the owner, not my steward. The new business this will procure will ensure my independence from my father, Abigail. These will answer only to me.”


That is good,” She nodded, but her brows drew together. “I hate that I have come between you, Titus. I want to believe your relationship has a chance to improve once I am out of his sight and his mind, but that will require a great effort on your part.”

His expressiona implied it was one he would not make. “Our relationship was bad long before you entered the scene, beloved. I will never please him entirely, and there is no use in mourning that.”

She drew in a deep breath, let it out again slowly. As she recovered over the past weeks, Titus had made a conscious effort not to discuss anything trying with her, she knew. But there were many things they needed to talk about soon. At the top of the list was what she was going to do when Ester arrived in Rome. She could not really imagine going back to Israel now, after all she had been through with Titus. But she had to face the fact that he would never be hers. It would surely be far less painful to think of him moving on if she were on the other side of the sea.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Miriam went to open it. A moment later, Aquilia and Samuel entered together, the boy holding the woman’s hand and chattering away happily. Aquilia was smiling.


Good afternoon, Mother.” Titus got up from the chaise he had perched on and went to kiss her cheek. “Did you enjoy your trip into the markets?”

Aquilia nodded with a smile at Samuel. “We had a lovely time. Samuel was telling me about a rather interesting thing that happened while you were in Israel, though. Something about a vision you all had of Jason?”

Abigail and Titus exchanged a somber look. “It was not a vision,” Abigail said softly. Her brows drew together. “At least I do no think it was. We all saw him, even the midwife.”

Aquilia regarded her evenly. They had spent many hours talking during her recovery, and Abigail had shared much of her beliefs. But often Titus’s mother balked. Like now. “How is this possible?”

Abigail’s eyes slid shut. “Because it was a day for the miraculous, my friend. A day when the world turned upside down. When the scriptures were rewritten. When the dead rose again. I did not realize it at the time, but as my son was being born, God’s was resurrected. New life. A new world.” She smiled, but it felt almost sorrowful. “And yet it is trapped within this old one. How long will it take for the truth to spread?”


As long as it takes for believers to travel with it,” Titus answered with a smile. “We have already brought the word here, to Rome. Who knows where else it has reached? All I know is that the truth does not need anything but itself to be recognized. God will speak into the hearts of his children.”

Abigail nodded and looked back to Aquilia, who seemed perplexed. She smiled. “You are listening, my friend. That is good. You have spent many years serving your gods, and it is not to be expected that you revise your views in a day. But you are in my prayers.”

Obviously unsure how to respond to that, Aquilia turned to Samuel with a smile. “Tell your mother what we saw in the markets, Samuel. She will enjoy the story.”

Samuel settled beside Abigail on the chaise, and she prepared herself for a tale of fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Three

 

Andrew stood for a long moment, surveying the house before him. It was not in his tastes. Then again, neither were any of the others around him. He missed the familiarity of their house by the Praetorium, the stark beauty of Jerusalem’s hillsides. And yet he was glad they were here. They had returned to their home for a few days before setting sail, and it had been so. . . empty. The general had made sure everything there remained safe and secured, but it was still not the same. There was no laughter there anymore, no smiles, no wisdom. Instead, there was only that aching hole that Cleopas had left. The concern for Abigail. The stale smell of dried tears and hopelessness.

Things had improved over the months. He would never argue with that. Ester’s recovery was almost full; there was still a shadow of sorrow in her eyes, and he suspected that would never abate entirely. But there was a light there, too. He was glad they had stumbled across the gathering of the disciples, that they had heard the one called Peter teach the crowds; so many of their questions were answered, and with the answers came the peace Ester had been searching for. Three thousand others had believed with them that day. The very thought brought a smile to Andrew’s lips. The temple leaders had tried to quiet them, had forbidden the name of Jesus to be spoken, but it was no use. The word spread like wildfire, and churches were springing up all over Judea.

They were not in Judea anymore. With a sigh, Andrew took the last few steps to the imposing door of the edifice and knocked. Seconds later the door opened, and a slave stood before him, impassivity written on his face.

Andrew decided at first glace that he did not like the man. But he smiled anyway. “Greetings, my friend. I am Andrew, in service to Ester Visibullis. Is this the Asinius house?”

The servant’s chin rose a notch, and displeasure entered his eyes. “It is.”

Andrew nodded, refusing to read anything into the man’s demeanor. “Is Abigail Visibullis still here? My mistress has arrived in Rome to rejoin her daughter.”

The man opened his mouth, but before he could make reply, a more familiar voice met Andrew’s ears from inside. “Andrew!” It was Titus. At least, Andrew thought it was Titus; his name was followed by a laugh, and Andrew was not certain he had ever heard Asinius laugh. But indeed, the large figure of Jason’s friend soon appeared, urging the slave aside and opening the door wide. He was smiling, too, looking far more. . . pleasant than Andrew could readily remember seeing him.


Lord.” Andrew tilted his head to a respectful angle. “It is good to see you again.”

Titus held out an arm to invite Andrew inside. “Likewise, my friend. Please, come in.” Andrew followed him inside, wondering at that title of “friend.” The Titus he had met before never would have ascribed it to a mere slave.


Abigail will be thrilled; she has been praying for all of you night and day. How is your mistress?”

That brought a smile to Andrew’s face. “Well, Lord. Her health has improved, and if she still greatly mourns the loss of her husband and son, she has found comfort in her faith, in what we have heard of the same teacher my masters had come to serve.”


Jesus, yes.” Titus gave a knowing nod and a beaming smile. “We have been praying that the truth of his teachings would reach your ears, as well. Abigail and I both watched him die.” A shadow flitted across his countenance. “It changed us both. And the midwife was one of his followers, so she told us all she remembered of his lessons. We heard of his resurrection hours after Benjamin was born.”

This news brought mixed feelings to Andrew’s chest. That the faith was shared brought him joy; that Titus had been with Abigail the entire time brought something else. He was not sure what to call it, but it was akin to apprehension. He decided to put that aside for now. “How are she and the babe?”


Benjamin grows every day, and Samuel as well. Abigail . . .” He sighed. “Abigail is improving, but she had the misfortune of becoming the brunt of my father’s anger. It so happens that if you had come three days later, she would not have been here. She is moving out to the villa as soon as I make the purchase of a few more servants.”

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