Page 46 of Ensnaring the Dove
Colombia couldn’t help it; she stared.
Linus’s gaze met hers, the moment stretching out before his mouth curved into a smile. “Greetings, Colombia.”
The man squinted up at Aedan. “You’re a bit old to be looking for an apprenticeship, aren’t you?”
Swallowing a sigh of irritation, Aedan kept a smile plastered upon his face.
His decision to remain in Onnum had been the easy part.
Finding work here was proving to be a challenge.
There were a handful of builders, coopers, and carpenters in the vicus, but all of those he’d visited so far had turned him away. The last one, a carpenter, had snorted a laugh when Aedan had asked him if he needed an apprentice. “Why would I need one of those?” the man had jeered, jerking his thumb at the three strapping youths toiling in the workshop behind him. “I’ve three strong sons.”
Aye, his search for work was turning out to be a humbling enterprise, yet Aedan persisted.
Nothing could be as humiliating as living as a Roman slave, having his identity torn from him. He’d spent years residing within forts, being insulted and sneered at by soldiers whenever he ventured out of the commander’s residence.
Being turned away when he asked for work was nothing in comparison.
However, the carpenter who looked up from the window frame he was sanding wasn’t sneering. Nor had he insulted him.
The man had merely stated the obvious. A man of Aedan’s age didn’t usually ask for an apprenticeship. Such positions were badly paid; often, in return for learning his trade, the apprentice would receive no wage at all, just a roof over his head and meals.
“I admit, I’m a bit old to be starting at the bottom,” Aedan replied, bracing himself to be sent away. “But I’ve skill with wood … and I work hard.” His gaze traveled over the workshop the man toiled in. A thin layer of sawdust coated everything, and the work benches were cluttered. It didn’t appear as if this carpenter had an assistant. “And you look as if you could do with some help.”
The man sighed before standing up and stretching his back.
It was hard to guess his age, for his leathery face was lined with care, and his blue eyes had the faded look of someone who’dweathered much in his life. “My son once worked at my side, and my wife used to keep this place tidy,” he admitted, his voice lowering as he glanced around the workshop. “But both died two winters ago when a fever rampaged through this fort.”
The grief in the man’s voice was still raw, and Aedan’s smile faded. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He too knew grief, and how it cast a long shadow.
“So am I,” the carpenter said gruffly, clearing his throat. His watery blue gaze focused on Aedan once more, and this time, when he appraised him, his expression turned thoughtful.
“But Iamin need of assistance,” he admitted, his mouth curving into a rueful smile. “My joints are paining me these days … and it’s taking me too long to complete projects.” He paused then, his expression sobering. “However, I can’t pay you much … to begin with at least … a sestertius a week, plus food and lodgings, of course.”
Relief barreled into Aedan, and he nodded. “Agreed.”
The carpenter smiled once more, moving away from the window frame he’d been working on, and walked over to the doorway, extending a hand. “The name’s Keir, by the way.”
The two of them clasped arms, and Aedan found himself grinning. He’d only spoken briefly with this man, and he wasn’t someone who trusted easily, yet there was something about Keir, the carpenter, that told him they’d be friends.
“And I’m Aedan.”
“Some wine?”
Linus’s voice was just as she recalled—deep and as warm as honey.
“Yes, thank you,” Colombia replied, wishing her own voice didn’t sound quite so strained. She’d waited for so long to seeher betrothed again, yet now he was finally standing in the same room as her, she couldn’t relax.
After witnessing their reunion, her father had left them alone in the tablinum. She’d both been pleased and unnerved by his departure, for while the commander had been present, the exchange between Colombia and Linus had been polite, yet formal.
Now they were alone, they could speak frankly.
She watched her betrothed’s broad shoulders as he poured the wine and turned from the table, handing her a calix.
Colombia took it, her fingers brushing his as she did so.
Linus’s hands were strong and warm, but her heart didn’t start kicking against her ribs at the contact. It had been so long—too long. They both needed time to get used to each other again.