The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance (29 page)

Leaving Julia in Judith’s capable hands, Damon had availed himself of the house bath. Warm, dry and dressed in one of Jared’s tunics—though he’d kept the leather belt and knife—he’d come prepared to meet the challenge of explaining his circumstances to Jared and his father.

“I make no accusations...yet.” Damon poured another draught of wine into his chalice. “I do not have enough information and even less evidence. But Quintus Marcellus is involved in something that he is taking great pains to conceal.”

“It would take much more than suspicions,” said Flavian from behind his desk. “Any evidence against the Prefect of Rome must be indisputable.”

Damon took a drink. “Stated simply, there would need to be more than the word of a spy and a slave.”

Jared crossed his arms and leveled him with a hard look. “You are no longer a slave.”

Damon fought to keep the bitter edge from his voice. “It’s a fine line between freedom and servitude. You should know this, as you were dragged across it.”

The memories flashed dark and painful behind Jared’s eyes, and Damon felt a moment’s regret. It had only been a year since Jared had spent months in chains, lashed, bent to another’s will. He had nearly died before Damon had rescued him.

It had taken no small amount of his father’s influence and an expert lawyer to argue before the courts that Jared, a citizen of Rome, had been illegally sold into slavery. That had freed him. It had taken a ridiculous amount of money to buy Bryna’s liberty from their former master.

Expression tight, Flavian leaned forward. “A very important question that you have deftly avoided answering remains. What is Julia Manulus’ involvement?”

Damon hesitated. He’d kept the details to a minimum, telling them only that he had had occasion to overhear Tertius and the Prefect reference the executed tradesmen. That Octavian Manulus had been mentioned. The less they knew, the safer they’d be.

His gaze shifted between the identical, penetrating looks of father and son. Again, his first instinct was to lie but Jared knew him far too well and had become very adept at seeing past his ruses. Probably a result of marriage to a seer, he thought wryly. “You are aware, of course, that Julia’s father has been absent these past months?”

Flavian nodded once.

“The Prefect has been pressing for guardianship in the form of a marriage. Julia has contracted me to act as that guardian until her father’s return.”

“As her husband?” asked Jared.

Damon bristled at the suspicion laced in Jared’s query. He held his gaze. “Yes.”

Flavian’s eyes narrowed. “And how did Julia Manulus come to choose you for this honor?”

Damon did not know why he felt surprised at the tone of his question. He smiled coolly. “I have an extraordinary reputation.”

“Indeed, he does and I am most fortunate to have found myself in his capable hands.”

All three of them turned to where Julia stood framed in the open archway. Damon drank in the sight of her. Bryna had lent her one of her dresses, a simple tunic of softest linen, along with a plain wrap of warmer wool. Her face glowed from a fresh scrubbing, her cheeks pink and her lips ever beckoning. Dressed as they were, the two of them could be mistaken for a merchant and his wife instead of a patrician lady and her slave.

“I ask forgiveness for interrupting,” she said, gliding forward with the confidence of the upper class. “And for listening the last few moments.”

Flavian rose and walked around his desk, took her hands in his. “Not at all, my dear. Were all your needs seen to?”

Julia smiled at him. “Yes, thank you.” Her gaze flickered from Jared to Damon. “I found I could not rest without finding my...”

Damon tensed. How would she act now? Now that someone of rank knew her secret? Now she would have no need to pretend. She would have no need for him.

Julia gave a short laugh. “I came to find Damon.”

“And you’ve found him,” said Flavian, with a faint smile. His gaze grew serious. “Damon has told us of your difficulties.”

Damon turned away from her questioning look, stared out the window. The storms had passed and a host of stars sparkled around a bright, full moon. A night like this would find most spies settled at a
taverna
with a skin of wine and an accommodating whore, deep in the bowels of darkness. That’s where he belonged. Not here, not in the midst of a past he would rather forget. Not with a woman who made his body burn and his heart do something it had not done since he was a boy.

Hope.

Damon pushed the unfamiliar emotion away. There was no time and no sense in allowing something like that to take hold.

He felt her gaze on him, could picture her standing there, shoulders squared, chin held high, twisting her ring in a poor effort to hide her anxiety. But when she spoke, her voice was strong and clear.

“Has he?”

“His version of it, at any rate,” said Jared.

Damon shot a baleful look at his friend who met it with a challenge of his own.

“That portion of the conversation is true. I have employed Damon to act as my husband which I fear the Prefect has not taken well. And my man Kaj assured me my gatekeeper’s wound was not life-threatening.”

Damon stifled a groan.

“Your gatekeeper, my lady?” asked Jared.

Damon slowly faced them. Flavian’s expression was set, Jared’s was guarded and Julia’s frustrated.

“You did not speak to them of the attack.”

“There was no opportunity,” he drawled.

“There is an abundance of it now,” said Jared.

Damon sighed. “While visiting Senator Manulus’ clients today, a knife was thrown in our general direction from the crowd.”

“That is not entirely true. The knife was aimed at you.” Julia looked between Jared and Flavian. “Someone tried to kill Damon. My servant Basil found the blade instead.”

Jared cursed. “Someone is trying to kill you?”

Damon waved a dismissive hand. “That is hardly noteworthy. There have been plenty of individuals over the past nine years since—” Damon paused. Had Julia realized that Jared had been his master? “—I left your service that would see me dead. How do you suppose I honed my vast array of skills?”

“Perhaps the same place you honed that sharp tongue,” Jared shot back.

Damon met Jared’s hot glare with one of his own. Master or friend or brother when it came down to it, Jared had no concept of the life he’d been forced to live as Tertius’ man. And what he did know was only what Damon wished him to know. As to the rest...well, simply put, he fell far beneath the ideals of his honorable friend. He had no regrets and would do every bit of it again if it saved those he cared about, saved his sister from one more day in slavery.

Saved Julia.

Prepared to weave an explanation that would satisfy the sensibilities of the patricians in the room, Damon turned to Julia and his breath caught in his throat. What he saw in her eyes shifted the dark within him into the light. Her sea-blue gaze was steady and focused directly on him and filled with trust. The disbelief welling in his breast was swept away with an almost imperceptible inclination of her head and the faintest wisp of a smile. His anger dissipated with his resolve.

“The attack was aimed at me,” Damon conceded. “For it to have occurred in the light of day, in the midst of a crowded street, demonstrates how desperate the Prefect has become.”

“I will speak to the Emperor,” began Flavian.

“No,” said Damon, ignoring the displeasure on Flavian’s face. “Nero is still young, too easily influenced by others. It would be fruitless until I can discover what it is that Quintus is doing.”

“And how will you accomplish this?” asked Jared.

Damon arched a brow at him which elicited an aggrieved sigh from his friend, who poured a generous amount of wine in a goblet before saying, “Use of that vast array of skills?”

Damon smiled and so did Jared with a shake of his head. “I will give you whatever aid you need.”

“As will I,” said Julia. He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. “This involves my family’s welfare. I will not stand idly by without doing what I can to see them safe.”

Damon wanted to argue but knew he could not. He understood her stance better than anyone in the room and felt a surge of pride at the determination glittering in her eyes. He acknowledged her with a nod, the pleasure on her face firing his blood. He pulled his gaze away and focused on Jared and Flavian. “Whatever Quintus is doing, it involves the construction of the Emperor’s new block of
insulae.
Senator Manulus’ clients voiced discontent over their transactions with the government’s representatives. The guild I had infiltrated was discussing the same concerns that by Quintus’ own admission led to their deaths.”

“Does he seek to undermine the Emperor’s authority?” Jared asked.

“Such a task would be foolish at the least and deadly at the worst,” replied Flavian. He put a finger to his lips. “You were correct in saying that Nero is impressionable, what sixteen-year-old boy is not, but his advisors are a different matter. His mother Agrippina wields great influence, not to mention his tutor, Seneca, and Burrus, the praetorian prefect. To challenge such a triad of power would be suicide.”

“Yes,” agreed Julia, “Quintus is a selfish man and relishes his power and wealth too much to risk it carelessly.”

“Wealthy?” Damon considered that. Greed was a powerful motivator; the memory of his own experience tightened his gut. “A man who needs coin might make drastic decisions to acquire more funds.”

“He has a reputation of being a frugal man,” replied Julia, “a fact well discussed at Lady Valencia’s gathering yesterday afternoon.”

That was a coincidence that could not be ignored. “In what manner?”

“His recent extravagances,” Julia replied. “The past six months, he added an entire new wing to his
domus,
has invested in a several mines and a marble quarry and recently purchased a handful of gladiators.”

“Gladiators?” Jared and Damon said simultaneously.

Julia blushed. “Yes, the ladies in attendance were rather graphic in their admiration of their...um...attributes.”

A jolt of jealousy swept through Damon. “And were you equally appreciative?”

Julia gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence, which along with Jared’s amused chuckle annoyed him immeasurably. “Pending an inheritance, I can think of only one way the Prefect might attain such additions to his purse...”

Jared shot a look to his father, blew out a breath. “Embezzling funds from the Emperor of Rome.”

Damon was moving toward Julia before he realized it. When he would have stopped, maintained his proper place and kept Flavian from an attack of apoplexy, she reached out and grasped his arm and pulled him close. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to wrap her tightly in his arms and kiss the fear away from her stricken face.

“You believe my father has...had,” she corrected, swallowing hard, “proof of Quintus’ deception?”

The grief shining along with the tears Julia would not shed made his heart ache. “I suspect he did,” Damon answered truthfully. “It must be damning or the Prefect would not be going to such extremes to possess it.”

“How will we find this evidence?” asked Flavian, his own voice rough with emotion. Octavian Manulus had been a good friend. “Without Octavian to show us, how will we find it?”

“Tertius and Quintus mentioned a man called Theophilus. I suspect he is a slave or subordinate but someone with more knowledge than is healthy. He’s missing and they want him found.” Damon looked at Flavian. “I will simply find him first.”

“Alone?” said Jared, “I don’t think...”

“Master?”

Esther’s daughter Judith stood in the doorway.

“Judith, I left instructions we not be disturbed,” said Flavian sternly.

“Master Jared, the time has come.”

“Time?” The bafflement on Jared’s face turned to stark terror. “Time! The babe?”

Judith’s smile was all the answer that was needed.

Jared rushed to Flavian then to Damon and Julia. “The baby is coming.”

“So we heard,” replied Damon. He watched his friend take a few more paces in indecision, fascinated in the immediate change from a calm, rational man into one that bordered on lunacy. He stopped and focused on Damon.

“Bryna.”

With that, Jared was out the door.

“It seems our discussion will have to be suspended until after I become a grandfather.”

Damon watched Flavian trail after his son. There would be no more discussion. He glanced down at the woman in his arms, his heart caught in wave of protectiveness. He knew what needed to be done and would do it—alone.

But first, he wanted to watch his friend act like a fool.

*****

“My thanks for coming.”

Julia took the hand Bryna extended. It was chilled and moist and the same pale color as her tired features. Dark shadows beneath her eyes accentuated her exhaustion after laboring nearly half the night to give birth. And the babe still had not arrived. Stubborn like his mother, she’d heard Jared mutter right before Damon had dragged him out the door at Bryna’s bidding for a bit of food and fresh air.

Julia looked around the room, uncertain as to why she was here. Only hours before, Damon had escorted her to their rooms, urging her to get some sleep while he checked on Jared and Bryna. She had tried, but had only managed to toss and turn, plagued with images of Quintus murdering her father, of the Prefect attacking Lares and Aunt Sophia, of a knife flying out of the dark and striking Damon in the heart. It had been a relief when a maid had knocked at her door with the message that the mistress wished to see her.

Bryna tugged on her hand. “Please sit down. Damon will not be able to keep that husband of mine occupied for long and I would speak with you.”

Julia sat on the edge of the massive bed. “Of course I would come,” her eyes flickered to her rounded belly, “but surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

Bryna gave a short laugh, then grimaced, her grip on Julia’s hand tightening as a contraction wracked her body.

“Breathe, that’s it,” Julia said. “Short, slow breaths until it passes.”