Page 15 of Ensnaring the Dove

The Briton was openly goading her.

Aedan had saved her life—and she hadn’t lied when she’d told him she’d never forget it—but it was fast becoming clear he resented her and everything she stood for. His questions were pointed, insolent, and she was rapidly losing patience.

She didn’t need to explain herself to this man—and she certainly wasn’t going to let him best her.

The firelight played across the proud lines of his face, turning his eyes a darker shade of blue. There was no mistaking the challenge in their depths.

Leaning forward, she held his gaze. “Linus is noble-hearted, strong, and courageous,” she replied, enunciating each word deliberately. “Why else do you think I’ve traveled all this way to see him?”

Aedan flashed her a goading smile. “And he’ll be pleased to see you?”

“Of course!”

His gaze glinted. “You seem very sure of that, Colombia.”

Anger ignited in Colombia’s belly. She wished she hadn’t been so candid with this man, for he was using everything she told him as weapons against her. Folding her arms across her chest, she gave him a withering look—one her aunt back in Asculum used with impertinent servants.

“You know a great deal about me, Aedan of the Brigante,” she said, her tone clipped now. “But I’m not that interesting.You, on the other hand” —her gaze narrowed— “are no common warrior.”

Aedan snorted at this, picked up some twigs, and threw them on the fire.

“Whom did you belong to … when you were a slave?” she pressed.

Her companion scowled, making it clear he didn’t welcome her question. Nonetheless, Colombia didn’t care. Now it washisturn to squirm.

Silence drew out before he gave her his terse answer, “General Justinian Aquila.”

Her gaze widened.

Aedan regarded her coolly. “You’ve heard of him?”

Her mouth kicked up into a half-smile. “Of course. Linus wrote me of General Aquila … and how he’d held Ardoch against the Picti.” She paused then, her expression sobering. “I heard that the emperor was displeased that he lost the north.”

“He was … which is why he was stripped of the rank of general and demoted to garrison commander at Vindolanda.”

“Sounds like you two were firm friends.”

Aedan’s brows crashed together. “No, we weren’t.”

“Come,” Colombia replied with a disbelieving snort. “No general just sets his slave free.”

“Well, he did … he gave all three of his slaves their freedom.”

This admission caught her off-guard. “He did?”

“One of his slaves was a Picti woman … he took her as his wife.”

Colombia’s eyes sprang wide. “Minerva,” she gasped. “How irregular.”

Aedan pulled a face. “The local magistrates thought so too … he had to go before the emperor to gain permission to wed her.”

“Really?” Like most people, Colombia had never met the emperor, although she’d glimpsed him once from a distance during a rare visit to Rome. “He had an audience with Hadrian?”

Aedan nodded.

Colombia shifted position, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. It was growing cool; she could feel the chill through her tunic. She wished there had been time to grab her palla—her long shawl—before running, but it had been impossible. Her stola was still wet from the river ride and needed to dry out a little more before she could wear it.

She drew in a deep breath then, her arms tightening around her legs.