The Barbarian's Mistress Page 17

  And finally, when he’d been so far gone he thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t get away from her, or into her, she took him into her mouth and pleasured him as he’d never known. Yes, she was inexperienced; yes, he’d known better technique. But none had been as world shattering as Lara, because she gave with her heart, gave with all that she was. And if she was already giving him better sex than he’d ever known, and they hadn’t even consummated their bond, then he was unable to envisage what it would be like with her, if and when they did.

  Because, that was the problem. He loved her. He wanted her more than he thought possible -- like a fever, like a storm. But that didn’t mean he could have her. It didn’t mean she was his, or could ever be truly his.

  Theirs wasn’t simply an issue of an insignificant gap in status like Daria and Darius, there’s was patrician and slave; the highest and the lowest of social strata. And, though he may no longer be a slave, that didn’t change his status in the minds of Roman Society. Patricians married patricians. There were no exceptions. Her father might entrust her safety to him, but he wouldn’t entrust her future. He wouldn’t want her children fathered by a barbarian sex slave.

  And Anniana loved her father too much to go against his wishes. He would never force her to choose between them. She deserved to live in luxury, the spoiled, beloved pet of a wealthy and powerful man. Not as a liberti, with no people, no place in the world, and no future.

  So the question was how to get away from her before it was too late. Not because that was what he wanted, but because it was what was right. But he couldn’t just walk away from his obligation to her. If he didn’t care for her until her father worked out another solution, then he truly was a coward. He couldn’t leave her. And if he couldn’t leave her, and he couldn’t keep his distance, then what was the alternative, especially as they were supposed to be a married couple?

  ‘Stop worrying. I can hear it from here,’ she said in her sexy, sleepy voice that had him hard the instant he heard it.

  ‘How do you know I’m worrying? I could be thinking of putting your mouth to good use again.’ He tried to keep his voice light with humour.

  ‘If you were thinking about that your rod would have been hard. And it wasn’t.’ She placed her small hand on his hardening arousal.

  ‘When did you get so good at identifying my sexual interest?’

  ‘Since I was given excellent training. I did do it right didn’t I?’ Her voice was suddenly anxious.

  He drew her up so that he could look her in the eye; those big, golden, doe-eyes that drove him crazy when they looked at him with innocent seduction.

  Her hair fell down around the two of them, like a golden wall, keeping out the world, making it just them.

  ‘You were perfect. You’re always perfect. If I had my way I’d never let you out of this bed.’

  ‘You can have your way,’ she said, as she touched his face with the back of her hand.

  ‘I can’t. And the sooner we both realise that, the better.’

  ‘I love you.’

  He closed his eyes and tried not to let those words lift his heart. He’d known this was how she felt. But having her say the words… it humbled him. Unmanned him.

  ‘I love you too. But that doesn’t change anything. This world doesn’t operate from love, it operates from power. And I have none, and you have the potential to have more than any woman in the world. Love doesn’t factor into that.’

  She leaned in and kissed his lips. ‘At least you have admitted it, finally. If I’d known, all I had to do was put you in my mouth to get you to admit it, I would have done it long ago.’ She was trying for humour, but it fell flat.

  ‘Me loving you has nothing to do with the sex. Well, only as much as one of the traits I love about you is your easy acceptance of my needs and willingness to embrace them.’

  ‘So it’s not that I’m good at it?’ She slid her leg over him and eased back onto his thighs.

  He couldn’t help smiling at her impudence. ‘No, not because you’re good at it. If “being good at it” was all it took to be loved, then I’d be loved from one end of Rome to the other.’

  ‘Ouch! I don’t want to hear that.’ She covered her ears with her hands, shifting her legs so that she sat astride him, her damp hot centre pressed against his arousal. She was going to send him into an early grave from sexual excess and frustration.

  He shifted his hips so that he could feel more of her, and her expression changed immediately. Suddenly, she was looking at him with such longing, he had to turn away.

  ‘Come on, time to get up and see what the day holds for us. I’m starving!’ He eased her off him and slid his feet to the floor.

  ‘You’re always hungry. Can we go down and fish off the rocks at the point. That’s fun!’

  He laughed. ‘You don’t fish; you pull funny faces, and tell me to throw the fish back when I catch them.’

  ‘Well, it must hurt them, to be out of the water.’

  ‘We kill to eat. You can’t be soft hearted about such things.’

  ‘I can.’

  He groaned and rubbed his sleep-tousled hair with his palms, frustrated and amused by her, in turn.

  ‘Whatever you want. Come on, the day’s a’wasting.’

  For most of the day Appius joined them, playing in the water while they caught fish that Lara made Vali throw back. Then, as the afternoon shadows lengthened, they headed back to the house, content and happy.

  ‘We should have kept that last one. It was big enough for all of us to share,’ Appius complained, for the fourth time.

  ‘Lara would have made us all feel guilty for eating it,’ Vali said, with a laugh.

  ‘Well, it probably had a family relying on it for food. You couldn’t kill it,’ she said defensively.

  ‘Instead, we have a family relying on us for food, and we haven’t got any,’ Vali countered.

  ‘Daria will have bought our food from the market.’

  ‘You mean fish that a fisherman caught?’

  ‘My father was a fisherman. He used to bring us fish home every day. Mother had a dozen different ways to cook it,’ Appius said with enthusiasm, as he pushed open the door to his home.

  ‘She’ll have to teach me,’ Lara smiled, as she entered the little back room next to the kitchen where they all shared their meals.

  Daria came out of the kitchen with a scroll in her hands. Her face was red with excitement. ‘This came for me today. Do you think it’s what you’ve been waiting for? I can’t read, so I don’t know what it is.’

  Vali took the scroll from her outstretched hands, and looked at the name on the outside. Then he removed the seal and read what was written there.

  ‘What?’ Lara said, seeing the blank expression that had come onto her lover’s face. It made her feel suddenly sick.

  ‘Your father is dead. Someone called Silus wrote this. He says we have to come back to Rome.’

  ‘Silus is my father’s scribe and assistant,’ she said numbly. Her father was dead? But how could he be dead? She had only left him a few days ago.

  Vali reached for her, and she went eagerly into his arms. It was the only place left where she felt safe. She tried to think, tried to process what she’d been told.

  ‘He can’t be dead. I only saw him last week. He can’t have died, just like that.’

  Vali stroked her hair. The only thing she could think about was the way he stroked her hair. It was windblown and tangled, and his hands were calloused and snagged in it, yet every stroke felt smooth and comforting.

  ‘Do you want a drink of something?’ Daria asked gently.

  ‘A little strong wine might help. I don’t think it’s sunk in yet,’ Vali replied.

  Sunk in? How did her father’s death “sink in”? It was a mistake, of course. It had to be. They were the ones who were supposed to be dead in Pompeii, not her father.

  A cool goblet of wine was held to her lips, and she drank obediently. The potent brew hit her sen
ses and shocked her into clarity.

  Her father was dead. The man who had loved her all her life; who had cared for her all her life, was dead. She would never see his loving face again. The stabbing pain in her chest took her breath away.

  ‘The message said we have to go back to Rome,’ she said, ignoring the pain. Even to her own ears her voice sounded strained and lifeless.

  ‘We can think about that later. Drink more, sweetling.’ Vali held the cup to her mouth again, and she swallowed down more. Now she felt light headed and sick to the stomach.

  ‘What will I do, Vali? Everything is falling apart. Everyone I’ve ever loved is … gone… just like that.’

  ‘Not everyone. You have me. You’ll always have me.’

  She drew her head from his chest and stared into his eyes, trying to read the truth written there. ‘But you said…’

  ‘Don’t worry about what I said. That was then, this is now. I’ll take care of you, just as I have since we started this journey. I will always take care of you.’ His voice was rough with emotion, and his arms tightened around her.

  That’s when the enormity of it hit. The tears seemed to come from nowhere, running down her cheeks like falling rain. And she sobbed, deep, gut-wrenching sobs.

  Vali picked her up in his arms and carried her up to their room. Here, he placed her on the bed, before climbing in with her, and pulling her back against his side. How long they stayed like that, with her crying her eyes out, she didn’t know. But the sun had set, and the moon had risen, before she could find the strength to stop.

  ‘I don’t want to go back…’ she said, as she sniffed.

  ‘And you won’t. There’s nothing for you there but your mother’s plots. We’ll get as far away from her as we can. Britannia. I still have your father’s letter giving me management of his estate. We can go there, at least until we find another alternative.’

  ‘But my mother would find out…’

  ‘Find out what? That a freeman and his liberti wife were managing the Britannia estate? When has she ever taken any interest in the running of the estates? And your brother Gaius will become head of your paterfamilias.’

  ‘Gaius? Gaius wouldn’t let mother marry me to Titus.’

  ‘Possibly. But it will be some time before your brother can get back from Magna Germania. Months, maybe even a year, until he’s released from service to take up your father’s position.’

  ‘It’s all too much to think about Vali. Too much. You decide. I’ll do whatever you think I should.’

  ‘I know what I want. I want you as my wife in Britannia. But if I get what I want, then you’ll have to give up your position, any hope of a marriage to someone powerful and rich. You would just be Lara, wife of Vali. But I can’t make that decision for you. If you want to try to find Gaius, and gain his protection, then we can do that. You know his legion. It should be easy enough to find out where they are posted. We could reach him as fast as a messenger. Possibly.’

  She lifted her head from his shoulder. Her red eyes were suddenly clear.

  ‘I love my brother, but I love you more. I don’t care about a powerful husband. I care about a loving one. I want to be Lara, wife of Vali. And we can travel to Britannia, or anywhere else.’

  ‘Don’t make a decision now. You’ve just had the worst news in your life. It’s too soon to decide your fate. But we can go to Britannia. My wife, in name only, until … until things become clearer.’

  ‘Have we got enough money for that sort of trip?’

  ‘Enough. And if we run out on the way, I can find a gladiators’ arena and fight. It’s good money.’

  ‘Don’t you have to sell yourself into slavery for that?’

  ‘In the smaller towns locals fight the professionals for money. I’ll be a local. But that’ll be a last resort. I’ve still got most of the money your father gave me. Nearly four thousand Denarii. We will be there in… a month, maybe a little more. We’ll go south to Carthago, and then across to Gaul. If that’s what you want.’

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s what I want. I won’t go back to Rome. Not for anything. And I have jewellery we could sell, if we need to…. But… but what about Ninia? I can’t abandon her.’

  ‘You have no control over her life, sweetling. She’ll do well enough in your old home. Maybe, one day, when you have your new husband, he can buy her for you.’

  ‘My new husband is you.’ Her tone was stubborn.

  ‘We’ll see. For now we have a plan. Tomorrow I’ll go to the forum and find us a ship sailing south. And we’ll leave as soon as we can. If your mother figures out where you are… if this Silus tells her.’

  ‘I can’t understand why Silus would write. He’s of no importance in the household. Ninia’s mother would have written, if the household was sending that note.’

  ‘It may have been your mother who dictated it. She might have received the missive because your father was… not there to get it.’

  ‘In which case, she will know where we are. We must go immediately. If mother sends men to bring me back… I won’t go to her. I won’t. She’s somehow responsible for father’s death. I know it! I never want to see her again.’

  Rome, LATIUM

  ‘I’m glad you’re all right, Master,’ offered Silus with guilty eyes, as he read a scroll Bibulus had placed in front of him.

  ‘All right?’ Bibulus was distracted. He didn’t have time for the ramblings of this old slave. His daughter was injured, possibly seriously, and he had no idea where she was or whether she would follow instructions and return to Rome. He hadn’t slept since coming home, his mind kept him on a razor’s edge.

  ‘When the mistress had me write that you were dead, I thought something must have happened to you. She said you were fine. But why would she have me write such a thing?’ It was a rhetorical question. A slave didn’t ask questions of his master. Silus was old school. He knew where the lines were drawn. As long as he stayed on his side of the line he would survive.

  ‘Your mistress had you write what?’ Bibulus barked in frustrated impatience. The man was a babbling fool. The last of a long line of incompetents he’d put up with since Vali was sold.

  ‘A missive from the south, Paestum, if I remember correctly. It made no sense.’

  Through his impatience, Bibulus finally saw a glimmer of hope. Paestum was just south of Pompeii. Had this something to do with his lamb?

  With more patience than his exhausted mind could normally have managed he started again. ‘What did the mistress have you write?’

  ‘I didn’t know if I should, but she swore I’d suffer if I didn’t obey her…’ The man looked suddenly very afraid.

  ‘Answer the question, man, before I get very angry!’ He only just kept his hands from grabbing the slave’s tunic and pulling him to his feet.

  ‘Oh, oh yes sir. It…it wasn’t much. I just had to say that you were dead and that V must bring the “goods” back to Rome. I had to sign it myself.’

  ‘V? You’re sure it was V?’

  ‘Yes, Master. I found it an odd way to refer to a person.’

  Bibulus thought quickly. Salvia had said she’d sent a message telling the supposed carpet dealer to return to Rome with the damaged goods. Now he knew how she’d sent the message, and what added subterfuge she’d included. She’d told Vali he was dead. That would have confounded matters. It might be just enough to bring him back to Rome with the injured Anniana. After all, with him dead, his verbal contract was nulled. And for all intents and purposes, Vali’s only requirement was to get Anniana to Pompeii and her husband. That hadn’t happened. He would now not know what else to do with her.

  ‘Paestum, you say. What name in Paestum did you address the message to?’

  For a long moment, the slave looked lost, then flustered, as he tried to draw on his failing memory. ‘A woman… Daria something… I don’t remember anymore… I’m sorry sir.’

  It would have to be enough.

  ‘Go and fetch Ninia here. Now man,
not in a week’s time!’

  As the slave scuttled from the office, Bibulus’ mind was already turning over the possibilities. He needed to find out what happened to Anniana, and the only place to start looking for answers was Paestum. Salvia had already left his house and returned to her father. Legal proceedings were under way to recoup what they could of her dowry. He would argue the huge costs incurred by Salvia’s lifestyle. After all, that was what a dowry was for; to keep the bride in the comfort and luxury she was used to.

  But some of the slaves would probably go with the settlement. He needed to get Ninia away from this. He owed her that much, for what his son had done. He never forgot that she was Elani’s child. If a man could love a slave, he would have loved that woman.

  And if he freed Ninia, that would be one less slave Salvia would get her hands on. If he sent her looking for her mistress, she might have more luck than someone who didn’t know Anniana. But he couldn’t send her alone.

  Her father Herakles could go with her. He would free Ninia and give Herakles travelling papers so he could accompany her. It was a plan. It was something. And even something was better than nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  2 September 79 CE, Paestum LUCANIA

  When Lara awoke it was to find herself alone, with the late morning sun streaming in through their window. She scanned the room quickly and discovered Vali’s tunic and sandals were missing. Would he have gone out without telling her? She’d been so exhausted last night, when she finally dropped into a restless sleep, that it was likely he wouldn’t want to wake her.

  Her mind returned to worry at her news like a tongue worrying a sore tooth. Her father was dead. Her beloved father, who had loved her more than anyone in the whole world, was dead. She would never see his dear face again. Never feel his arm wrapped tightly around her again. Even when he was busy, his hugs had never been perfunctory. If she came in to disturb him in the office, he would give her the space of several moments to hug her fully, as if she was more important than any business he had to complete. He never seemed to mind her distractions.