The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance (27 page)

Damon’s expression darkened. “He’s the steward of Senator Tertius Maximinus. I’ve been the Senator’s personal spy for nearly three years.” His mouth twisted with disgust. “My sister Lita is a slave in his household.”

“Is?” she asked.

Damon nodded grimly. “I’ve been trying to earn her freedom. Tertius is a shrewd man. He set her price at one hundred
aureus
, knowing I could not afford it. He offered me the chance to earn her purchase price if I would perform some insignificant espionage for him. I rashly agreed to the bargain without setting limits. Now he keeps raising the price.” He scowled. “‘A job well done’ he’ll say and before I can demand her emancipation documents he adds ‘but there is a certain matter that needs attending’.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “She should have been freed two years ago. Lita tries to be brave but her disappointment is getting difficult for her to hide.”

And just as difficult for Damon to bear, Julia thought, her heart catching at the frustration and sadness clouding his eyes. She wished she could wipe it away. “You mustn’t take the blame. Tertius sounds like a horrid man and his dishonorable behavior should be reported to the Emperor.”

Damon gave her a puzzled look. “Why, Julia. Are you defending me? A criminal?”

It surprised her as well. But she understood the depth of love that brought one to make such sacrifices to protect those you loved. “I suspect you are guilty of many things,” Julia answered, pointedly. “But I believe you care for your sister. What I still do not understand is how Senator Tertius and Quintus Marcellus are related.”

Damon hesitated for a long moment before continuing. “The night of Lady Hespera’s dinner party, I witnessed the Prefect and Tertius meeting in the villa’s garden. Julia,” he said holding up a hand when her mouth dropped open in astonishment, “I did not lie—exactly. I just took a side trip in the general direction of the Prefect.”

She gave him a skeptical look which the wretch had the gall to smile at. “And did they speak of my father?”

“Yes, in a roundabout manner,” he answered. “They also spoke of coercing suppliers, of a missing man named Theophilius. Did your father know this man?”

Julia shook her head. “Not that I recall.”

“He also referenced the guild members who were arrested along with me.” He shook his head in disgust. “Those poor wretches died as a warning to others who oppose the Prefect.”

A sick horror gripped Julia. “If...if Quintus did harm my father to keep him from speaking out against him to the Emperor, why is he so determined to gain my affection?”

“It could be that he believes your father confided the information to you. No,” Damon said, shaking his head and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “No, if it were that simple, he’d arrange an accidental snapping of your neck, poisoned food or slip a venomous serpent into your bed.”

Julia felt the color drain from her face. “If you seek to reassure me I fear you are failing.” The building panic she’d been holding at bay threatened to close off her throat when Damon failed to make his usual glib retort. “Dear gods.”

Damon rose and walked around the table. He gripped her by the shoulders and raised her up to face him. “I will not allow anything to happen to you, goddess.”

“Damon...”

“Julia,” he mimicked, lifting her chin so that she had to look at him. “I am very resourceful. If all else fails, I will throw my body between you and the snake. Trust me.”

Julia gave a watery laugh, wiped at the tears that filled her eyes. “I do trust you, Damon.”

Damon looked taken aback but it lasted only a moment before he lightly brushed his lips across her mouth. Julia sighed as he nipped at her lower lip. She tilted her head back just enough to hold his gaze. “No more secrets, Damon.”

He hesitated but she would not concede this point. She would not stake her family’s safety on a shallow promise. His features softened. “No, goddess. No more secrets.”

The flame from the lamp began to sputter. Damon nudged her toward the doorway. “Come, we’ll discuss this further at home.”

It seemed to take less time to find their way out through the maze of corridors. But it was enough time for Julia to consider all that Damon had said. The patrician world was a dangerous one, full of plots, deceit and scheming. She was proof of it, no matter that her reasons were selfless she had been willing to use another to achieve her purpose.

Julia studied the broad back in front of her, recalled the stubborn set of Damon’s jaw, the gleam of determination in his eyes, the sincerity beneath his words of encouragement. He did not have to stay. With the skills she’d seen him display, Julia knew he could simply vanish and leave her to deal with Quintus alone. But he’d promised to help her. Only a man of honor, a man of integrity and courage would promise such a thing. Pair those attributes with a sharp wit and heated touch and a woman could almost fall in love.

Julia pulled up short as Damon reentered the bookseller’s shop. Love? Dear gods.

“Damon! How dare you disappear without a word.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed as a beautiful, petite woman with cascading waves of golden-red hair twined her arms around her husband’s neck. Her complexion was flawless, smooth as alabaster and naturally fair which accentuated exotic emerald eyes. While her voluminous garments were of the finest quality they were sedate by Roman standards which only enhanced her beauty.

Julia disliked her immediately.

But what really stirred the spark of jealousy in her gut—not that she’d admit that was what that burning annoyance was—was that Damon was embracing the wretched woman back.

“Y
our lady does not look pleased.”

Damon slanted a look to Julia who stood motionless in the doorway. Her expression was pure patrician indifference but her eyes flashed with undisguised hostility.

“It surprises you that she is jealous?”

It did not surprise him as much as it should. Instead, it sent a wave of fierce male satisfaction lancing through him and it took some doing not to smile—that would really spark Julia’s ire. Damon returned his attention to the lady in his arms. “Should you be reading minds in your condition, Bryna?”

His best friend’s wife placed a hand on her enormous stomach and smiled. “My gift has never been as intense as it has been since I conceived this child. So it was with my mother when she carried me.” She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. “Perhaps the babe wonders what other secrets his uncle holds?”

Damon forced himself not to shift beneath Bryna’s direct gaze. His feelings toward Julia were merely physical, as would be any man’s when faced with a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman with a body that caused a man’s hands to ache with the need to touch. A beautiful woman with determination, intellect and passion...

Bryna laughed softly.

Damon scowled at the gleam of mischief in her green eyes. How would Julia react if she discovered he had friends—patrician friends? Gods, she may even know Jared or Lucien, as he was known in Roman society. Knowing he’d been a slave was one matter. To meet his former master another. The differences in their status would be impossible to ignore. His gut tightened at the thought.

It just wouldn’t happen. With a few well placed words and some artful distraction, he’d have the two women separated before any questions could form in their lovely heads and he’d steer Julia out the door and away from the truth. Before he could utter one word, Bryna spoke.

“Greetings, my lady,” she said, sweeping back the concealing robe.

Julia took a few tentative steps toward them, her eyes going wide at the sight of Bryna’s advanced pregnancy. She looked up at him sharply. Damon raised a brow.

Bryna chuckled. “I am only a friend of Damon’s...”

“And my wife,” growled a deep voice.

Damon cursed beneath his breath as the tall, regal black-haired pain in his arse strolled into the shop. Of course Jared would choose this very moment to arrive and send his plan to ruin. Damn, what did the Fates have against him?

He watched his friend’s approach noting that, as usual, he’d eschewed the purple-striped toga of a Roman citizen for the fine clothes of the prosperous merchant he was. Damon was not surprised. Jared had spent the better part of his life reviling that very heritage and only since meeting Bryna had he even acknowledged his Roman blood.

But now that Roman blood looked to be near the boiling point. Expression stern and gold eyes narrowed he was the picture of intimidation—and it did not faze his barbarian wife one bit.

“I told you not to wander away,” Jared said in a slow, clipped voice.

Fire sparked in Bryna’s eyes. She tilted her chin up. “You are not my master, Roman. I do not follow your commands.”

“When have you ever followed them?” he asked, reaching for her even as she slid into his embrace. The long-suffering look he sent Damon had him biting back a smile. Stubborn pride aside, he’d never seen two people more in love. He glanced over to where Julia stood looking beautifully baffled and pushed away the envy he felt.

Jared held Bryna out at arms’ length and held her gaze. “I may not be your master but I am your husband and I worry about you and the babe. This shopping trip was a bad idea. The physician said...”

Bryna made a scoffing noise. “Curse the physician and his Roman ideas. I am not one of your spoiled patrician ladies sitting about fretting over the birthing of our child.” She inclined her head in Julia’s direction. “I mean no offense.”

“Of course,” murmured Julia, walking to Damon’s side.

He might yet be able to minimize the damage. “Now that Bryna is safely under your husbandly protection, we’ll bid you farewell.” He slipped a hand under Julia’s arm and took a step.

“What is your haste, old friend?” Jared asked, the tone of his voice edged with authority. “We’ve not seen you for months and,” he focused on Julia, “you’ve yet to introduce us to your lovely companion.”

Damon set his jaw and glared at Jared. But the man had no respect for a clear warning and ignored him completely. He blew out a breath. “Julia, this is Lucien Antoninus and his wife Bryna.”

Jared bowed. “My lady.”

Julia’s brow furrowed. “Antoninus? Are you relation to a Flavian Antoninus?”

Damon went rigid. Gods.

“My father,” replied Jared, sending a curious glance in Damon’s direction.

Julia seemed not to notice. “He has been a guest in our home many times.” She cocked her head. “I did not know he had a son.”

It was Jared’s turn to look uncomfortable but Damon could take no pleasure in it. He’d been there during those painful years of estrangement from his Roman father.

Jared turned as Bryna gently laid her hand on his arm, covering it with his own. The look that passed between them stirred another bout of longing in Damon that he was determined to ignore. How many times did he have to remind himself that there was no room in his life for impossible dreams?

“I spent my youth in Alexandria. Thus, I’m known by Jared.” Jared answered then deftly changed the topic. “How long have you known this rogue?”

“Not long.” Julia admitted.

“She is my employer,” Damon interjected, staring hard at Jared, willing him to follow his lead. While his friend had limited knowledge of the full extent of his involvement in the world of patrician intrigue, he understood the importance of discretion and would probe no further if he believed Damon was in the midst of a mission. Damon breathed a sigh of relief. A perfect solution.

“Well, I’ve never heard it called that before,” said Julia, startling Damon as she laced her fingers through his own. She leaned into him, the light scent of roses wafting up to tease his senses. For a moment he allowed his imagination to take him back to the image of her bare breasts beneath his hands before common sense dragged him back to the present.

“What do you mean, my lady?” asked Bryna who, for once, did not seem to know the answer before it was given.

Julia encompassed all three of them with a bright smile. “I am his wife.”

Of all the things Julia could have said at that moment, he’d never expected that proclamation. From beneath hooded eyes Damon looked at Jared and Bryna and bit back a groan. Their stunned expressions only caused his stomach to sink further. Ithacus, the old goat, sat on his stool silently laughing.

“Married?” echoed Jared, turning to Bryna who shrugged, her look of bewilderment even more unsettling to Damon than any of her visions could ever be.

“It was very sudden,” said Damon, cringing at the weakness of the excuse. Gods, he could do better.

Jared raised one brow. “Of that I am certain.”

Damon gave his friend a bland look.

“A celebration is in order,” said Bryna. “You will come to our home and...oh!”

Jared wrapped his arm around Bryna’s shoulders, his worried gaze shooting to the hand she pressed against her belly. “The babe?”

Bryna straightened and gave him a half smile. “No, but perhaps I should lie down.”

“I’ve already sent Dionysius for the litter,” replied Jared. He raised his gaze to Damon and Julia. “My lady, there is room for you also.”

There was no way Damon was going to allow his two worlds to collide. “The hour is late and we must return...” he paused as a loud clap of thunder shook the shelves.

“The weather gods seem to have other plans,” observed Jared wryly. He glanced out the door. “It is nearing dusk and the roads are unsafe enough after nightfall without adding a storm. You are coming to our
domus
.”

Julia looked uncertainly at Damon. He kept his expression blank but stared at her, directing the same silent demand that had failed with Jared—to keep his secrets.

“We would be honored.”

Damon bit back a curse. He was losing his touch and that realization did nothing to improve his rapidly escalating bad humor.

Julia continued awkwardly. “But my...I mean...our household will wonder at our absence.”

Translated, Damon thought broodingly, to Kaj would tear Rome down stone by stone to find his mistress.

Jared raised his hand to cut off any further protests. “I will send a messenger to ease their worry.” When another clap of thunder rattled the scrolls he ushered a curt command. “Come.” Jared slipped his arm around Bryna’s waist and guided her toward the doorway.