Page 30

T alking and laughter filled Lucretia’s ears as she sat on a high-up seat at the circus.

The long oval racetrack stretched below her.

She and Marcus had found seats bordering one of the four corners.

That was the best spot, according to Marcus, as watching the chariots navigating the tight angle provided a great deal of thrill and potential for crashes.

Lucretia didn’t particularly wish to watch a chariot crash, but Marcus loved the excitement.

Since Felix was still visiting his family, Marcus had some extra time after school, so she’d offered to take him to the races.

It was their first mother-son outing since…

since before Cornelius died, she realized.

They’d occasionally gone to the races as a family and had even taken Marcus to the great Circus Maximus in Rome a few times.

She still remembered how he’d shrieked with delight at the size of the racetrack—much bigger than the one here in Ostia—and the speed with which the chariots flew around it.

Now, before the race began, Marcus had gone to purchase some food from one of the vendors that paced the stands, so for the moment, she was alone.

She wondered what Felix was doing now, if the weather inland was as pleasant as it was in Ostia today.

The sun burned bright, but the sea breeze provided welcome relief.

Somehow, she missed Felix. Her thoughts had turned to him many times over the past several days he’d been away. Her nights felt empty without the prospect of their lessons, and her body missed his touch, the single-minded way he pleasured her.

Her desires had been running rampant since he’d been away.

Usually, one or two efficient climaxes were enough to satisfy her for a week.

But lately, she’d been indulging in pleasure first thing upon waking and again before she went to sleep.

Even so, her efforts did little to curb her thoughts of him.

It was as if her body wanted him alone, not just simple physical satisfaction, and the ache wouldn’t be quelled until she felt his hands on her skin once more.

She didn’t like feeling this way: so helpless, so dependent.

Marcus returned, laden with food, so she turned her thoughts away from her troublesome attachment to Felix. “What did you find?”

He sat on the bench next to her and laid down the food between them. “I got meatballs. Crispy chickpeas. And a slice of savillum!”

“My favorite.” She reached for the honeyed cheesecake, wrapped in a thin napkin, and took a bite. They still had at least a quarter of an hour before the race began, as Marcus had insisted on arriving early to get the best seats.

Marcus stuffed a handful of fried chickpeas in his mouth and crunched happily.

“I wagered the leftover coins on the Blue team. You know, Felix was explaining ship financing to me, and it seems sort of similar to betting on racing. You’re just betting that a ship won’t sink so you get paid.

Maybe one day, if I ever win a really big bet, I’ll start making ship loans. ”

Lucretia couldn’t recall the last time Marcus had spoken so many words in a row to her. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your lessons with him.”

“He’s very smart. And he says I’m getting better at boxing.”

“I’m sure you are. You’ve been very diligent about continuing your training while he’s been away. He’ll be impressed when he returns, no doubt.”

Marcus turned his attention to the skewer full of greasy meatballs and bit off a whole one. He chewed avidly, swallowed, then gave her a sidelong glance. “You know…” He hesitated, contemplating a second meatball.

“What?” Lucretia took a delicate bite of the dense, sweet savillum.

“I think Felix likes you.”

She nearly dropped the cheesecake. “I—he—well…” She struggled to address this conjecture. “What makes you say that?”

Marcus shrugged. “The other day he was saying all sorts of things about how smart and hardworking and talented you are. And then he said he’d proposed to you months ago—”

“That was nothing,” Lucretia said firmly. “A foolish business proposition, which I rejected.”

“I know. But then I mentioned how you said you never wanted to marry again and, I don’t know, he looked…sad or something.”

Lucretia absorbed this new information in silence for a long moment. Was it possible…? No, Marcus must have misjudged that conversation. “I’m sure it was nothing.”

“You see him a lot, don’t you?” Marcus said, his tone taking on an accusatory edge. “You have a lot of dinners with him lately.”

“Those are business.” Guilt filled her at the lie, and she couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Do you…like him?” her son asked. “I mean, he’s not exactly ugly, is he? I assume ladies, er, find him appealing—”

“Marcus!” She had to put a firm stop to this conversation.

“Felix and I have a business arrangement. Nothing more.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I promised you when your father died that I would not marry again. I have no interest in Felix of that sort.” That, at least, was true; though she desired Felix, marriage was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Good,” Marcus said, gathering another handful of chickpeas. “Because I like Felix, but I wouldn’t want him as a stepfather .”

“Understood.” She pulled him closer, expecting him to wriggle away.

Instead, he laid his head on her shoulder—just for a moment, but it was enough to make Lucretia catch her breath. Warmth flooded her, chasing away all thoughts of Felix and whether or not he liked her or she liked him.

By the time she recovered, Marcus had already pulled away.

Lucretia gave his shoulder one extra squeeze before releasing him. “Goodness, that boxing practice is fleshing you out, isn’t it? You’re going to have a legion of girls chasing after you before you know it.”

“Mother!” he groaned, and Lucretia chuckled.

Below them in the circus, the chariot teams started to emerge, and the crowd roared. Lucretia turned her attention to the race, but the whole time, she could feel a little spot of warmth on her shoulder where Marcus had rested his head.

On the second day of his visit, Felix rode to the former house of Manilius Cotta, having gotten directions from his mother.

There, he spoke with the current owner and verified that Cotta was indeed deceased, with no known heirs.

When Siro visited, the property owner had been away, so Siro must not have realized the man wasn’t whom he was seeking.

Despite himself, Felix was impressed at Lucretia’s audacity.

She must have known that if her invented guardian were discovered, everything she’d worked for would be lost. But she had taken the risk in order to hold onto her independence, to ensure she wouldn’t have to answer to anyone. She was fearless.

Felix returned to Herminia’s house as the sun was setting, sore and dusty after another long day on horseback.

He washed, changed his clothes, then joined his family for dinner.

The dining room of this house was small, on the verge of feeling cramped with only the five of them seated on the couches around the table.

The walls were painted a plain light green, no murals or other decorations adorning them.

Out here in the country, they had no need to show off with oversized dining rooms or elaborate ornamentation.

“How was your errand?” Mother asked as Felix lowered himself onto an empty couch.

“It was as you said,” Felix replied. “The gentleman I’d been told of is deceased. But it doesn’t matter.”

Maximus was holding the baby, nestled in the crook of his burly arm, to give Herminia and Fulvius a reprieve while they ate on the other side of the table.

Felix was half-surprised Herminia would trust her oafish father with something as delicate as a baby, but the little girl cooed happily as Maximus’s large finger tickled her stomach.

Mother reached over to adjust a fold of the baby’s swaddling, smiling down at the infant. “Being a grandmother is marvelous. All the fun of having a baby without any of the real work.” She gave Felix a pointed look. “I bet little Fulvia would love to have a cousin close to her own age.”

Felix poured himself a large measure of wine.

“There must be many girls in Ostia who would leap at the chance to marry a man as successful and handsome and smart as you,” Mother continued.

“I’m too busy to marry,” he said automatically. It was the same response he’d given each of the many times his mother had brought up his status as a bachelor.

“You’ll always be busy,” she chided.

“I’ll get around to it one day.” He’d always planned to marry eventually. Having a wife was useful in many respects—a hostess for social engagements, someone to manage the household, a mother for his heirs. But none of those things had ever seemed particularly pressing to accomplish.

Maximus switched the baby to his other arm. “You could always do what I did. Marry a woman who already has a child. Takes some of the pressure off. It’s an excellent shortcut.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “If I recall, Herminia was born almost exactly nine months after your marriage.”

“Yes, but there wasn’t any pressure .” Maximus grinned.

Felix snorted. His mind immediately went to Lucretia and Marcus. Marcus would be a worthy heir; after all, he was already set to inherit Lucretia’s business. But there was no point in considering that, as Lucretia would never marry again.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, for Mother leaned closer. “Is there really no girl who has caught your interest, in all this time? The girls in Ostia can’t be that unappealing, can they?”

Felix hesitated. He didn’t like to lie to his mother, but he also didn’t want to reveal the depths of his futile obsession with Lucretia.

Mother cocked her head. “Is it someone unsuitable? A girl whose father hates you? Or is she married? Or, no, she’s a Vestal Virgin—”