Page 41 of Ensnaring the Dove
The man’s narrow shoulders stiffened, and horror rippled across his features.
A moment later, he remembered his manners and bowed. “M… my lady,” he stuttered. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I didn’t send word ahead,” Colombia replied coolly. “Fetch my father … I wish to greet him.”
Marcus bowed once more. “Of course, my lady.” He then took a step backward and motioned for her to follow. “The commander is next door meeting with his officers … if you wish to wait in the tablinum, I shall let him know you’re here.”
Colombia followed him out of the entrance hall and onto a covered portico. They circuited a paved courtyard, a rectangular space dotted with urns filled with flowers and herbs, and low stone benches.
However, Colombia didn’t pay her surroundings much attention. She was too busy trying to keep her breathing even. From the moment they’d entered this residence, her pulse had started to pound like a drum.
Her father would be angry with her—she knew that—she just hoped his joy at seeing her alive and well would soften his response.
Marcus led her into the tablinum. The windowless, white-washed living space was simply, yet tastefully, decorated, with a mural of rolling hills, blue sky, and rows of olive groves paintedon one wall and a woven rug upon the tiled floor. Reclining couches covered by colorful cushions dominated the space, and a desk and chair sat against the rear wall. A long table, where a row of drinking vessels and a tall ewer of wine perched, lined the wall opposite the mural.
Colombia was tempted to go straight to it and pour herself a huge calix of wine to settle her nerves.
Instead, she turned and nodded to the steward briskly, letting him know he was dismissed.
Head bowed, Marcus hurried from the tablinum.
Colombia watched him go. The pale morning light flooded into the room through the open doors leading out into the courtyard, pooling on the gleaming tiles.
“Minerva grant me the courage to face him,” she murmured, beginning a slow circuit of the tablinum. She then reminded herself. “He’s a man … not a god.”
The truth was that her fatherwasintimidating—and in the years since her mother’s death, she’d spent little time with him. She continued walking, for movement helped ease her nerves, doing several circuits of the room before the scuff of approaching footfalls made her skid to a halt.
He’s coming.
And no sooner had she turned to face the open doors when a tall, broad-shouldered figure, deep-red cloak fluttering behind him, strode into the tablinum. Her father then halted, his smoke-grey gaze raking over her from head to foot. Severus Valerian Juventus was as imposing as she recalled, although his dark hair, cropped close to his scalp, was shot through with more grey than the last time she’d seen him.
“Colombia.” The commander’s voice was deep and powerful—and there was no mistaking the censure in his tone. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Good morning,pater,” Colombia greeted him softly, bowing her head. His presence filled the room, cowed her. “I apologize for my disheveled appearance … and the manner of my arrival. I was traveling with a supply convoy on Dere Street … but we were attacked a few days ago.”
Silence rippled through the tablinum, and when Severus replied, it was with a muttered obscenity. “Futuo!You were traveling inthatconvoy, daughter?”
Colombia nodded. “My guard and my maid were both killed.”
His gaze raked over her. “How in Hades did you survive then?”
“A traveler came to my rescue,” she replied. Aedan was right. It was best her father knew as little about him as possible. “He saved my life … and escorted me here.”
The commander’s eyes snapped wide, his lips parting. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” he growled. “Why, in Jupiter’s name, would you embark on such a journey?”
Colombia swallowed to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. “It has been a long while since Linus and I were betrothed. I wished to see him … and you … again.”
Heat flamed across her cheeks as she spoke, especially when her father’s gaze narrowed. Until a few days ago, her reason for departing Asculum had seemed a noble one, a romantic one. Yet now she knew what a risk she’d taken.
Indeed, she was lucky to be alive.
Suddenly, she was ten years old again and staring down at her scuffed slippers as her father scolded her.
“And why didn’t you send ahead word of your arrival?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Severus growled another curse. “Well, it certainly is that.”