A Voice in the Wind (43 page)

“Arria is a woman of remarkable talents. I’m amazed Marcus lost interest in her.” He turned and saw Julia’s expression. He laughed at her. “You needn’t look at me like that. I’ve only heard from others, not found out for myself.”

“But you want to?”

He came over and bent down to tease her. “Not as long as you continue to please me,” he said and noticed the bruise on her cheek. He straightened, frowning slightly. Marcus wasn’t coming tonight, but if Antigonus noticed the mark on her cheek, he’d tell him. Marcus could cause all manner of trouble if he wanted, and there was trouble enough already. “You look tired,” he said. “Stay home and rest.”

Julia warmed at his solicitous concern, but his remarks about Arria were still fresh in her mind. “I am tired, but perhaps I should go.”

He kissed her again, lightly this time. “No. I’ll suffer the evening without your company and tell Antigonus you’re visiting your parents.”

Julia sat up and pushed her long tangled hair back over her shoulders. “It has been weeks since I’ve seen them. Perhaps I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Rest a day or two, and then go,” he said. “You look worn out. I wouldn’t want them getting any wrong ideas about the way we live.” Nor seeing the bruise he had put on her.

He was in such an agreeable mood, Julia decided to risk more. “I want to bring Hadassah back with me after I see them.”

“Hadassah?” he said blankly. “Who’s Hadassah?”

“The slave mother gave me.”

“What’s the matter with the slaves you have?”

If she said they failed to serve her, he would probably bring them in now and beat them in front of her, and she didn’t want that. “Hadassah always anticipated my needs. I’ve never had a maid who could do that except her.”

His countenance darkened. “You’re talking about the little Jew, aren’t you? You know I don’t like Jews. They’re prudish. They put too much importance on purity.”

“Her religion never got in the way of her serving me. And as for purity, I used to send her to Claudius.”

Caius glanced back at her in surprise. “He wanted her? As I remember, she’s ugly.”

“Well,” she said, seeing her lie wouldn’t be convincing, “Claudius wasn’t interested in her that way. He wanted to talk.”

Caius laughed. “That’s what happens when you marry an impotent old man.”

His laughter grated and Julia wished she hadn’t mentioned Claudius. Her first marriage amused Caius. At one of the first feasts they attended together, he had told his friends her entire personal history, humorously, as though it were an entertaining tale—she, Youthful Beauty, forced to wed Foolish Old Age. Caius wove a hilarious tale for his friends of an impotent old man pursuing a ripe young maiden through the countryside and never quite catching up to her, until he finally broke his neck in the attempt.

At first, Caius’ tale had taken away the guilt and made the marriage seem as utterly ridiculous as one of the farces they saw at a theater. After a while, however, the amusement wore away with the retelling. Now, each time he mocked Claudius, Julia felt shamed. Claudius hadn’t been that old, nor had he been a fool. He had been smart enough to increase his family fortune, while Caius appeared only able to lose money at the races.

“I’m going to bring Hadassah back with me,” she said.

“Why do you want her so badly?”

“The maids you’ve given me plod about their duties like mindless animals. When you’re not here, I’m bored to death with nothing to do. Hadassah always told me stories and sang songs to me. She always knew what I wanted before I asked.”

He raised his brow and considered her request. “Very well,” he said. “You may have her.”

As soon as he left, Julia decided to go home immediately, see Mother and Father, and bring Hadassah home with her. She pushed the rumpled blankets aside, summoned her maids, and ordered a bath prepared. “I’ll wear the lavender palus,” she told one, “and the amethysts and pearls,” she said to the other.

Washed and scented, she carefully applied her makeup. It was best if her parents thought everything was perfect. She hoped Marcus wouldn’t be home. He knew her too well to be fooled.

Her mother was delighted to see her, embracing her and asking all manner of questions as she ushered her into her father’s presence. Julia was even gratified to see a smile of welcome on his face. He embraced her as well and lightly kissed the cheek she turned to him. He was thin and drawn. She wondered if he really was seriously ill, but pressed the thought quickly away.

“I’ve missed you both so,” she said, realizing she had. How strange that she hadn’t noticed it until she was back in their presence again. They were so dear to her, her heart swelled. And they did love her after all.

Excited and happy, she talked about the parties and feasts she and Caius had attended. She talked of the games and gladiators she had seen. She talked of the expensive presents Caius brought her, showing off her new pearls. Not once did she notice their disquiet or see their exchanged looks or their increasing dismay at what she disclosed about her new life and her husband.

She asked them questions about what had happened in the household, but as soon as they mentioned anything, it reminded her of something else she had to tell them.

“Enoch, bring me some wine. I’m quite parched,” she said and drank half a goblet when he brought it to her. “Hmmm, it’s not as good as what Caius buys for us, but it’s refreshing,” she said and finished the rest. She saw her mother’s expression and giggled. “I’m not a child anymore, Mother. One goblet of wine doesn’t make me drunk.”

Decimus asked careful questions about Caius.

Phoebe ordered the evening meal be served. “Lie down, Julia,” she said, patting the couch beside theirs.

Julia nibbled at the simple meal of sliced beef, fruit, and bread, and told them about the feasts of delicacies she had eaten. “Sometimes I eat until I think I’ll pop,” she laughed. “More wine, Enoch.”

“You look as slender as always,” Phoebe said.

“Thank you,” Julia said, smiling happily. She didn’t tell them Calabah had taught her how to disgorge her stomach so she wouldn’t gain weight. It had been unpleasant to begin with, but now was easily accomplished when she had a few minutes of privacy. She wouldn’t eat enough of this meal to bother about it. She tossed a sliver of beef back onto the silver tray and took a grape instead.

Hadassah entered with two small bowls of warm water and a cloth draped over each forearm. She smiled brightly when she saw Julia, but went to serve Decimus and Phoebe instead. Julia was annoyed when Bithia brought the bowl to her so she could wash. Hadassah was
her
slave, not theirs. She had only loaned her to them.

She washed and dried her hands and flipped the damp cloth back at Bithia in dismissal. “Hadassah, collect whatever you have. You’ll be returning with me.” She felt the stillness in the room as soon as she spoke the words. “Is something wrong?” she asked in challenge.

“Leave us, Hadassah,” Decimus said softly.

“Do as I said, Hadassah,” Julia called after her and then looked at her father.

“It was my understanding you had more than enough maids already and had no need of her anymore,” he said.

“Julia,” Phoebe said more carefully, “what need do you have of Hadassah with so many others?”

“The others don’t serve me the way I like.”

“Then teach them,” Decimus said tersely, annoyed. He had seen the flicker of emotion in Hadassah’s eyes. She was happy here. She served them better than any other slave before her. He had no wish to give her back to his selfish, willful daughter, not when Julia had more slaves than she needed already.

“I would teach them if they had any intelligence,” Julia said angrily. “Caius only cares that they’re beautiful. Most of them are like Octavia’s Ethiopian. Absolutely worthless. I’ve had one whipped twice and she’s still too slow. Caius didn’t want Hadassah serving me because she’s ugly and a Jew.”

“She’s still a Jew,” Decimus said dryly.

“She’s never been ugly,” Phoebe said defensively.

Julia glanced at her. “You’ve become very attached to her, Mother.”

“What does Caius dislike about Jews?” Decimus asked, and Julia realized she had said too much. She could hardly tell her parents why Caius objected.

“Several of his friends were killed in the siege of Jerusalem,” she hedged quickly.

“In that case, I think it’s best if Hadassah stays here,” Phoebe said.

Julia’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that? She’s mine. You gave her to me.”

“You gave her back to your mother,” Decimus said.

Julia rose up on her couch. “I did not! I only loaned her. I never once said you could have her, Mother.”

“She’s served us very well over the last six months,” Phoebe said weakly. “I don’t think it’s fair to her to be passed back and forth.”

Julia stared in disbelief. “Fair? Fair! She’s a slave! And what about me? Don’t you care about
me
?”

Marcus entered the room and gave his sister a wry smile. “I thought it sounded like old times. Welcome home, Julia.” He came to her and bent to kiss her. “What’s all the fuss about, little sister?”

“They want to keep Hadassah,” she said, glaring at her father. “She’s mine and Mother talks about fairness. They care more about a slave than they do about their own daughter.”

“Julia!” Phoebe said in dismay.

“It’s true!” Julia said, near tears, her heart pounding frantically. She needed Hadassah, she needed her nearby. “Did Father once ask me if everything was fine? Does he know what I have to endure?”

Decimus frowned, wondering at the intensity of her emotions. “What do you have to endure?” he asked sardonically, and Phoebe laid a hand over his and gave him a pleading look for silence.

Marcus studied her face. “What’s happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Julia said, shaking. “
Nothing
!” She looked at her mother. “You gave her to me.”

“Yes, I did,” Phoebe said, rising and going to her daughter. “And, of course, you can have her back.” She put her arm around Julia’s waist and felt a significant change in her. Suddenly she thought she knew the reason Julia was so emotional. “Oh, my dear, we had no idea you had such need of her. You may take her back with you.” She felt Julia relax. “She has served us very well, but we have others.“ She kissed Julia’s temple. ”I’ll go speak with Hadassah.“

“No,” Julia said, catching her hand. She didn’t want to be alone with her father, and she could feel her brother’s acute gaze boring into her, full of questions, latent with suspicion. “Send Marcus,” she said. “He can tell her to get ready. I’ve only a few more minutes before I must return home and I want to spend them with you… and Father.”

Marcus found Hadassah sitting on a bench in the peristyle. His pulse quickened as he came close to her. She stood, and her posture spoke of obedience. He thought of how many times he had wanted to talk with her. Sometimes he would rise early just to watch her go out at sunrise to pray to her god. At those times, the temptation to go out to her had been almost too great. But he knew his father was right. She was different from all others. To take her as he had taken others would ruin her. Odd that it mattered to him, but it did, and he had kept his word to leave her alone.

“Mother said you’re to get your things. You’re going with Julia.”

“Yes, my lord,” Hadassah said and started to turn away.

“Wait,” he said huskily. “Hadassah, look at me.” When she lifted her eyes to his, he saw her sadness and wanted to reach out and hold her. Instead, he spoke harshly. “You don’t want to go, do you?” It sounded like an accusation and she looked frightened. It had been a long time since he had seen that look in her eyes and, full of remorse, he impulsively cupped her face. “I meant no accusation. You have served us well. You can tell me the truth.” Her skin was so soft, he wanted to trace all her features and comb his fingers through her hair. His hands tightened. How long would it be before he saw her again? He didn’t want to let her go.

Hadassah drew back from him slightly, disturbed by his touch. Had she a choice, she would stay here with Phoebe and Decimus. She would remain close to Marcus. He was so troubled. Life was a war to him, each accomplishment a battle to win. It was best that she be sent away. Her love for him was impossible, and yet it was growing each day. Besides, there was her promise to Phoebe about caring for Julia. And, of course, there was Julia to consider. Something was wrong. She had known it the moment she saw her—life with Urbanus was not as wonderful as Julia portrayed. “Lady Julia needs me, my lord.”

Marcus felt her withdrawal and took his hands from her. He turned away, frustrated. “No more than my father needs you.”
Or I
, he thought, realizing how her presence had served him.

Hadassah lowered her head. “Your mother is always here for him, my lord.”

He glanced back at her sharply. “Julia has Urbanus and half a dozen slaves to take care of her.”

“Then why has she come for me?” Hadassah said softly.

Marcus turned fully. “You don’t trust Urbanus any more than I.”

“I can’t judge, my lord,” she said cautiously.

“But you sense something, don’t you? Are you afraid of him?”

“He doesn’t notice me.”

“He noticed you, and you know it. He refused to have you serve Julia,” he said. Suddenly he was more uneasy about this than before. “What if Julia sends you to him the way she sent you to Claudius? Urbanus won’t want to talk.”

Her face was hot with embarrassment at his obvious suggestion. “She didn’t love Claudius, my lord. She does love this man.”

He let out his breath. She was right, of course, and he was faintly relieved at the reminder of Julia’s lack of affection for her first husband. In fact, Julia had loathed Claudius. In contrast, she was mad for Caius. It was unlikely she’d send a slave in her place. And even if some pique or misunderstanding roused her anger and she did so, it was equally unlikely Urbanus would accept a substitute when he had summoned his wife. Marcus doubted Caius was as understanding as Claudius had been, or as weak and pliable.

Besides, Caius was as obsessed with Julia as she was with him. That had been more than obvious on the few occasions he had been at the same event with them and had had opportunity to observe them. In fact, the depth of their obsession made him uncomfortable. It didn’t resemble the love his father and mother had for one another. It was something dark and powerful.