someone fertile and docile. A meek child bride who allowed herself to be used hard in the marriage bed and birthed a child every year. One who admired her husband’s accomplishments, but had few of her own.
‘You’re being very quiet,’ the censor said with a smug expression. ‘You’ve nothing to say in your defence?’
‘Only what I said before. Livius Lucan owns this inn.’
‘Then I hope, for your sake, that he’ll be able to substantiate that claim. For if he cannot, I will make an example out of you.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘It’s a promise.’ The censor’s lips twisted cruelly. ‘There’ll be a hearing, of course, and witnesses will testify. If you’re telling the truth, you’ve nothing to fear. But if you’ve lied, I will take you down.’
He glanced around the room. ‘This really is a lovely place, you know. If you lose it, it won’t be hard to find a man interested in it.’
Severina sucked in a hard breath. So that was the game? He’d confiscate her inn and sell it for his own gain?
‘You’re despicable.’
The man’s laughter was not pleasant. ‘You’ve no idea.’
It was a nightmare. Surely. Just a bad dream.
But it wasn’t. The censor still stood before her, looking around the room as if he owned it already.
‘The hearing’s in three weeks,’ he said, handing her a parchment bearing the details and a large, official-looking seal. ‘Do be on time. I’m a busy man. I don’t like to be kept waiting.’
Of course you wouldn’t, you greasy fat cat, Severina thought as she watched him leave. You want to crush as many poor, struggling women as you can before the day’s done.
She stood for a moment in rank confusion, unsure of her next move. Was this a simple misunderstanding or was there something—someone—far more insidious involved? Severina chewed her lip and considered. Had her past caught up with her? Was it time to leave Rome and move on?
Five years. She’d run for five years, but her old enemy hadn’t caught her yet. She’d begun to feel safe, to build a new life, to imagine a settled existence.
True, she’d had a few twinges of doubt when Donatus had given her the inn. To work in the public made her uneasy, but she’d needed the income and owning a business of her own had been the fulfilment of her dreams.
The chances of being discovered had seemed small. She’d changed drastically from the thin, pale-faced girl she’d been when she’d left her past behind at age fifteen, and Rome was a vast city with a population of millions. But had her luck now played out? She couldn’t be sure.
Severina pivoted sharply, calling for Ariadne. ‘My palla,’ she said in response to the younger woman’s anxious question. ‘And please find Orthrus to accompany me. I must go to Lucan.’
Chapter Two
‘I should warn you,’ Orthrus said, slanting his dark gaze towards Severina as they neared Lucan’s apartment. ‘Master Lucan’s changed. He’s not the same as before.’
Severina heard the slight censure in her slave’s voice, but ignored it. Her slaves remained on good terms with Lucan, and Orthrus visited him often.
‘How is he different?’
‘You know how much his faith meant to him? How he’d become a leader among the Christians here in Rome? He’s turned away from that now. He doesn’t attend their meetings. He doesn’t talk about their God. I don’t think he even prays.’
Severina halted in the street. ‘Lucan’s no longer a Christian? But he was…’
‘So faithful? Yes. But in losing you, he lost that, too.’
This news shook Severina. Lucan’s faith had mattered to him. It had been the bedrock of his life even before they’d met. It had once rescued him from a dissolute life, leading him away from strong drink and women, leading him towards peace and purpose.
Lucan’s Christian faith had mattered to her, too. Because of it, he’d cared for her differently from all the women of his past, building their love on a foundation of trust rather than desire.
But Lucan no longer believed? How could that be?
‘You’re blaming me, Orthrus?’
‘No, mistress,’ he said. ‘I’m saying only that a lot of things changed for him after you left.’
Orthrus did blame her. She could see it in his eyes. Or perhaps her imagination played tricks, making her feel guilty—again.
She pushed the feeling aside. She didn’t have time to consider all her reasons for ending the relationship with Lucan.
It hadn’t been her fault that love had caught her by surprise. She’d never meant to lose herself to those fierce, sweet emotions. She shouldn’t have ignored the risks, but she’d foolishly wanted to be happy for just a little while.
And Lucan had made her happy. As sunny in personality as in appearance, he found humour everywhere and made her laugh. He cherished her, listened to her, valued her opinions and forced her to question her distrust of strong men, teaching her by his example that true strength in a man was sometimes very gentle.
But he’d wanted to marry her. He loved her. He was serious about it. He’d never offered marriage to any other woman.
He meant to hold her for ever, and Severina had been forced to face reality. Anxiety choked her happiness. All her memories, all her old fears found life again.
She’d fought hard for her independence, but a husband would own her. In the eyes of society and the law, Lucan could demand her complete obedience, and that thought filled her with unreasonable panic.
There were other reasons, too. Reasons that clawed at her from the past, reminding her that she must be careful of men and especially those who valued religion too much. Even something as valuable as faith could be a weapon in the wrong hands.
‘Master Lucan hasn’t completely returned to his old ways,’ Orthrus said. ‘He’s been seeing women socially, but I don’t think he’s been intimate with any of them. Maybe he’d like to, but…’ Orthrus glanced at his mistress ‘…his heart’s not ready and so it hasn’t worked out.’
‘Orthrus, please…’ Severina began walking again, as if to lead Orthrus away from the topic. To think of Lucan still hurt. To think of him with other women hurt more.
‘He hasn’t been drinking much, though,’ Orthrus said, quickly falling into pace beside her. ‘He got drunk only once, the same night you…but that was understandable.’
‘Let’s not discuss this.’
Orthrus ignored her. ‘Instead, he’s working all the time. Like a madman. He sleeps little, doesn’t eat well…he’s driving himself into the ground.’
Severina looked away. ‘Which apartment?’ she asked, indicating the long row before them with a slight jerk of her head.
During her time with Lucan, he’d lived with their mutual friends Donatus and Lelia, but he’d moved out after Severina ended the relationship. She’d been relieved at the time, unwilling to see him. And now…?
‘This way,’ Orthrus said. ‘Follow me.’
Nobody answered their repeated knocking at Lucan’s door. Orthrus swore softly. They’d walked a long distance, but Lucan wasn’t home.
‘It’s all right,’ Severina said. ‘We’ll come back tomorrow.’
‘Wait. Maybe I know where to find him. He’s bought a run-down property nearby. He’s probably there, directing the