Love. How could her gift have failed her so miserably? Were the connections she felt when Jared came to her only physical in nature, with no other cause or reason? She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Jared was like all Romans, a conqueror interested only in the possessing rather than the cherishing.
When she finished washing, she straightened the covers with quick, determined strokes. He could take his highhanded Roman edicts fling them, and himself, into the sea. She did not need him to live her life.
Her hand faltered over a wrinkle in the cloth. One single truth worried the edge of her pride. She
was
a prisoner. With a certainty so deep that even her stubborn pride could not deny it, she knew that she was trapped, imprisoned, held against her will.
She loved Jared.
It was as simple as that. No, not simple at all for he did not love her in return. Not if he could treat her like this. She sat hard on the edge of the bed, rubbed her temples, tried to bring order to her thoughts. She stared at the rose tinted surface of the sea beyond, knowing there was only one solution.
Jared claimed her as his wife, then wife she would be. She would learn to run the household in the proper manner of a merchant prince’s wife. She would do what she must to find his betrayer, keep her end of their bargain. She would be all that Jared needed until Bran was found.
Then she would return to Eire. Jared would no longer have to deal with the stigma of his barbarian wife, and she—Bryna rubbed at the pain in her chest—she would learn to live without her heart.
H
e wasn’t supposed to be alive. That alone was enough to gall him, set his temper soaring. He snatched a sheet of
vellum
from the stack on the desk. Not only did the abomination return to claim his property—property that he, himself, had been putting to good use—but added to the shame by bringing home a barbarian wife. A barbarian!
His companion stared out the window, too agitated to speak. Picking up the stylus, he began to scratch out a missive. He could not allow Jared ben Gideon to ruin everything he had worked for. There would be no more miracles. This time he would personally see to his death.
***
“As you can see, master, the storeroom inventory is in order.”
Jared tilted his head, looked blankly at Talus. “What did you say?”
The steward sighed patiently, as though he had not already repeated himself three times. He sent a nervous glance to Damon who lounged against the desk. “I said sir, that the storeroom inventory is complete.”
Jared studied the scattered parchments in front of him. It was as if he were noticing them for the first time. In the hour he had spent with Talus all he had been able to see were bewildered green eyes, confused and hurt.
She’d been right to challenge him, hold his promise up and demand its fulfillment. He was a man who kept vows whether made to a supplier, a fellow tradesman. A wife.
Jared unrolled a third parchment, tried to concentrate on the ledgers. But this time was different. He would protect her at all costs and if she think him a bastard in the process? Well, he’d play the role to keep her safe.
“Master?” Talus’ voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.
Jared straightened the scrolls. “The accounts look in fine order. However, the amount of money spent on food and household goods seems quite exorbitant. Certainly out of proportion to what is left in my coffers.”
Talus’ cheeks grew red. “Master Gideon and his children—”
Jared nodded in understanding. “Of course. It would cost more to feed a combined household.” He eyed the nervous man. “My uncle brought you here to act as steward?”
Talus inclined his head. “Yes, sir. I was purchased for my skills at running a household. I have been here half a year.”
“The same length of time you were gone,” noted Damon, rounding the table. “What of the slaves who resided here prior to that time?”
“I do not know master. I can only assume they were sent to work someplace else or sold.”
Damon rubbed his chin. “Why would Gideon replace the entire household staff? For that matter, why did he and his entire family move into your villa?
The frown on Damon’s face mirrored his own. Jared’s jaw tightened. There were many questions that needed answers.
“Will there be anything else, master?” asked Talus.
“Actually, there is. It concerns my wife.”
“Ahhh,” said Talus, his expression relaxing. “A very beautiful lady.”
Bryna
was
beautiful. Not only in form but in spirit as well. A spirit that had shaken him to his very core and turned his world upside down.
And if you aren’t careful, you’ll drive her away, too
, his conscience accused. “The Lady Bryna does not hail from Alexandria or even Rome. Her experience at keeping a house such as this is very limited.” Non-existent unless you counted the hours toiling at Gaius’ villa.
Talus folded his hands in front of him. “I will do my utmost to ensure that things run smoothly.”
“I have no doubt. However, it will be important, for various reasons, that her lack of knowledge not be known.” replied Jared. He met Talus’ puzzled expression. “She will need guidance in all areas. I do not want anyone, especially my family, realizing how much help she will need. You will find her a quick study.”
“I will begin this morning.”
“One more thing. My wife must not realize she is being helped.”
The only indication of the butler’s puzzlement came in the small wrinkle between his brows. Talus bowed, began to back out of the room. He paused at the door. “One other question, if I may, Master. Does the care of Lady Bryna also include her cat?”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid so, Talus. She’s very attached to the creature.”
Talus turned a bit green.
“One more thing, Talus.”
“Sir?”
Jared picked up a scroll. “This record of sale states that you and the rest of the present household staff were purchased using coin from my own personal funds.” Talus stiffened. “As such you answer to me and only me. No one else. Do you understand?
Again, Talus bowed. “Yes, master. I am your servant.”
“Do your job well, Talus, and you will find yourself free.”
Jared’s gut clenched at the impact his words had on the slave. The same hope that had sustained him during his months in chains filled Talus’ sharp black eyes.
“Then you can be assured I will do the job well.” With that, the steward left exited out the door.
“It’s very strange,” drawled Damon, replacing the rolls in their wooden coffer. “Your uncle replacing every servant you had, moving his children and their families into your house.”
“Strange, indeed.” Jared tapped the stylus against his chin. He’d always prided himself on weighing all options, gathering information and looking at every angle of a problem before deciding on a course of action. “I think we need to pay my uncle a visit.”
“Agreed,” Damon said, flipping the latch closed on the coffer. He crossed his arms and sent Jared a pointed look. “Now, are you going to tell me what you did to Bryna that has you so pre-occupied?”
Jared started to defend himself, blew out a resigned sigh instead. “I acted the ass and still lost the contest.” He laughed at Damon’s puzzled expression and shoved away from the desk. There were two tasks he must accomplish—find the kidnapper and win his wife’s trust—and heart—back.
***
“Have you ever seen such beautiful flowers?” Miriam asked.
Bryna nodded absently. The gardens ringing the terrace were filled with every color of flower imaginable, all set off with the deep green of broadleaf ferns and the gangly shade of palm trees. But in her eyes, even these wonders could not compare with the hills of Eire, covered with purple heather.
Where she would eventually return without Jared. The brilliance of the memory faded.
He hadn’t returned to their room last night, left her to lie awake, first hating him with every fiber of her being then aching for him to hold her in those strong arms. He made her feel safe, alive. Gods, he made her feel complete.
Miriam swung her legs with the abandon of youth into a wading pool. “This is much more fun than household chores.”
Bryna returned the girl’s smile, but groaned inwardly. Household duties. She was mistress and she had no idea where to begin.
“Yet chores are necessary to the running of a household.” Elizabeth slid out from a side door. The smile pasted on her face failed to hide a simmering anger in her eyes. The old wariness Bryna had felt as a slave sprang to life at the condescending, cold tone of Elizabeth’s voice and she had to stop herself from slipping into the schooled submissiveness she had used to survive her enslavement. Gathering herself, she lifted her chin. “Good morn.”
Elizabeth ignored her, glided up to sit on a limestone bench. Dressed in a mantle of vivid red, heavily embroidered with swirls of gold, she looked every inch a noble lady. A harried maidservant struggled to keep a large parasol positioned just so to shade her mistress from the hot Egyptian sun.
Elizabeth, her calculating gaze never leaving Bryna, said something in Aramic to Miriam, whose mouth formed an astonished circle.
She did not understand the words, but judging from the child’s reaction, it had not been flattering. If she were to establish herself as mistress, she must make a stand. Mustering her courage, she straightened and faced Elizabeth.
“Until such time as I am able to learn the language of my husband’s people, I would appreciate your using Greek or the Roman’s language so that I may converse directly with you.”
Elizabeth’s lips pressed into a stern line, her cheeks flushed hot red. She quirked a brow. “I find it odd you would marry a Hebrew, yet not know his language?”
Bryna smiled indulgently. “Jared is also Roman.”
“Indeed,” answered Elizabeth tightly. She waved her hand, directing the slave girl to adjust the parasol, blocking the single ray of light that had managed to find her arm. “I find it terribly interesting that Jared would take a wife at all. You see, he’s never shown the least bit interest in matrimony. Now, mind you, he’s shown interest in women.” She looked pointedly at Bryna. “Many women. But never in such a permanent way.”
The barb hit its mark. Men had their needs, even within the civilized world of the Romans. Bryna was not so naive as to think otherwise. Now that he was wed? Her heart sank at the thought of Jared seeking solace in another woman’s arms.
“Did you meet in Rome?” Elizabeth persisted.
This cousin of Jared’s was wily. “We were introduced at a villa some distance from the city.”
Elizabeth’s did little to hide her annoyance at the vague answer. “A villa in the Roman countryside? How very, um, rustic. A villa is romantic.”
Bryna slanted her gaze at Elizabeth. If back-breaking labor, chains, hunger and the lash equated romance then Gaius’ villa had indeed been romantic.
Elizabeth continued to press. “You must have spent quite a lot of time together.”
“You could say we never left each other’s side,” she answered sweetly.
Jared, concealed in the shadow of the portico, chuckled. Elizabeth would probably die of apoplexy should she find out they had been chained together. He had arrived at the garden at the same time as his inquisitive cousin after an afternoon trying to keep his distance from his wife, and spending a futile hour questioning his uncle and Baram about the sequence of events in his absence. Gideon had chided him about the absurdity of his inquiries and Baram had blatantly ignored the questions. It only added to his frustration to find his mind wandering to images of Bryna’s soft lips.
Jared studied Bryna’s petite figure perched on the wall, her slim back straight and proud, shoulders drawn back, delicate chin jutted out in defiance. Elizabeth was doing her best to intimidate Bryna and without much success. His wife handled herself with the poise of a true princess. A barbarian princess.
Elizabeth continued to question Bryna about their marriage, an interrogation more thorough than any Roman authority might use. He’d never seen his gentle, diplomatic cousin so intent. Bryna handled the barrage ably, but even from his spot behind the post he could see the temper rising in the pink flush of her cheeks.
“My cousin has never been the impetuous type before, but it seems he has made an exception in the selection of a spouse.” Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively in Bryna’s direction. “Nevertheless, he has made his choice. Uncivilized though it may be. We can only pray it does not handicap him.”
Bryna’s confidence wavered at the truth of Elizabeth’s words. She did not need this self-important woman to remind her of the threat she posed to Jared’s reputation. She gathered her mantle around her and stood. “The hour grows late. I must see to the evening meal.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with irritation at the dismissal. She looked down her nose, causing Miriam to squirm uncomfortably next to Bryna. “It has always been my duty to see to such matters. There are many aspects to consider and I am sure they are too complicated for an uneducated person to understand.”
Jared saw Bryna’s hands curl into fists and flash his cousin a deadly look. He’d better stop things before Elizabeth got what she deserved. He started from behind the column.
“Your pardon, mistress.”
Both women shifted their gazes to Talus. The butler stood with hands clasped, in a posture of deference. He shifted his gaze past Elizabeth, dipped his head to Bryna. Elizabeth’s gasp reached across the courtyard to Jared’s hiding place.
“The food for the evening repast is well on its way to completion, as you instructed mistress.” Talus bowed his head again, but there was a decided twinkle in his eye at Elizabeth’s rising ire. “Do you wish to use the simple plate or the gold for the table setting?”
Surprise flitted across Bryna’s beautiful features but she recovered quickly. Her smile dazzled Jared, even from a distance.
“I believe the gold would be in order to celebrate my husband’s homecoming.”
“Very good, mistress.” Talus assisted her with her wrap, draping it over her shoulders. She responded with a regal dip of her head, linked her arm through Miriam’s and swept into the house, leaving Elizabeth standing gape-mouthed.