Page 6 of The Legionary Seduction (Roman Heirs #2)

A week and a half after Volusia’s shopping excursion with Max, a suitable day for their riding tour finally arrived. Volusia had taken a few days to make sure the household was arranged as she liked it. Then, there had been a stretch of rainy weather, but this morning finally dawned clear and bright. Max told her to come fetch him whenever she was ready to leave.

First, she had to tell Avitus where she was going. He was conducting business in his study at home this morning. As she approached the closed door, raised voices echoed from within. She paused, not wanting to interrupt at a bad moment.

Her husband was speaking loudly and forcefully. “…don’t care if that’s the way you’ve been managing things, we must go about things properly.”

She recognized the stern, clipped voice of Gaius Galerius Petronax, the legion’s commander. “I’m sure if you spend some more time with the financial records, you’ll see how my prior procedures can benefit you.”

Volusia didn’t want to interrupt, but she also didn’t want to eavesdrop. She had no idea what the men could be discussing, but it seemed to be of a sensitive nature, involving money. She tapped gently on the door. “Avitus?”

“Come in, Volusia.”

She pushed open the door. Petronax was on his feet, as if he’d been pacing, and Avitus sat at his desk with his fist clenched atop a stack of tablets. Petronax gave her a stiff nod, but did not smile or offer her a greeting.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to interrupt,” she said.

Avitus unclenched his hand. “You’re not. Petronax was just leaving.”

The commander’s shoulders tensed, but he turned on his heel and pushed past Volusia through the door.

Volusia watched him go. Was it wise to dismiss the province’s second in command like a chastised lackey?

She shook the thought from her mind. Avitus had matters well in hand, no doubt.

“Did you need something?” her husband asked.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m about to go riding. I've asked one of the, er, household to escort me around the countryside.” She carefully avoided mentioning that her escort was a legionary, given Avitus’s earlier warning. Max was, she reasoned, technically a part of their household for the duration of his guard detail. “I’ll be home well in time for dinner.” Though I doubt you’ll notice if I’m not there .

He nodded. “Very well. Enjoy the day.” He bent his head to focus on the tablets in front of him, and she left the room.

She went to her room, where Iris was folding some clothes. “Could you find my traveling cloak?”

Iris went to a trunk and rifled through it, then pulled out a cloak. “Going somewhere?”

“Riding,” Volusia said. “With Max—the legionary. You know, the one who’s always at the front door.”

Iris’s blue eyes locked onto Volusia’s face. “That big one who took you shopping?”

Volusia nodded.

“You like him, don’t you? You should be careful, mistress. These soldiers, they might have pretty faces, but they’re all just big dumb killers. And somehow that one seems dumber than most.”

“Max isn’t like that. I knew him before I got married. We were…friends.” She blushed. They had been more than friends by the end.

“Hmph,” Iris said. “I still think you should watch out. I know it’s fashionable for married ladies to have their fun, but I think you can do better than a soldier .” Her voice dripped with disdain.

“I don’t want to have fun with him,” Volusia insisted. “I just enjoy his company, and he’s offered to take me riding. My cloak, if you please.” She took the cloak from Iris. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Very well, mistress.”

Volusia left her bedroom and went to the kitchens to pack a small bag full of bread, cheese, and a wineskin. She wasn’t sure how long they’d be riding, and she didn’t want either of them to go hungry.

She met Max at the front door, and held up the bag of provisions with a smile. “I brought sustenance.”

He gave her an answering grin. “Excellent.”

They set off. Hermes had once again been asked to watch the door in Max’s absence. Really, Volusia wasn’t entirely sure why a legionary had been assigned to do a job that one of the household slaves could easily manage, but perhaps there had been a desire for extra security.

“Am I finally to meet the famous Elephant?” Volusia asked as they reached the military stables on the outskirts of Narbo.

“You remember her name?” Max said, looking pleased.

“Of course. It’s the stupidest name for a horse I ever heard.”

He chuckled, then paused before entering the stables. “In case anyone asks, this outing was entirely your request.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A trace of guilt flitted across his face. “I’m technically banned from the stables for another week. But if I’m acting on the orders of the lady Volusia, then I think I can get away with it.”

“So you’re just using me to get access to your precious horse?” She couldn’t help smiling. Max was always in some sort of trouble.

“I guess you could look at it that way.” He hauled open the heavy stable door, and beckoned her inside.

The earthy scent of horse droppings and hay greeted her as she stepped into the stables. A few grooms glanced at them, their gazes lingering on Volusia with curiosity. Max went straight for a stall toward the end of the aisle. A large gray head poked out through the slats in the stall door, and Max quickened his pace into a half-jog until he reached the horse.

Volusia hung back, watching as Max ran a gentle hand down the horse’s cheek and pressed his forehead to hers. He tapped at the underside of her head, and she lifted her head until her nose was level with his face. He planted a kiss on her nose, after which the horse gave an appreciative snuffle of his hair.

“This is Elephant,” Max said. “Come introduce yourself.”

Volusia was not in the habit of introducing herself to horses, but she approached and obligingly patted Elephant’s silky nose. “You are quite pretty, aren’t you?” The name Elephant was apt; the horse was large for a mare, and her coat was a dappled gray like raindrops on stone.

Elephant found the gold bracelet on Volusia’s wrist and snuffled at it. Volusia yanked her wrist back, tsking at the horse.

“She does have a taste for finery, like any lady,” Max said. “Now, where’s your horse?”

Volusia helped Max locate the docile gelding she’d brought from Rome, along with the sidesaddle, which had been stored in the stable’s tack room. He saddled both horses with practiced efficiency, then led them out into the stable yard.

With gentle strength, he boosted Volusia onto her horse. His hands moved over her legs, checking that her knees were properly positioned. His touch was businesslike, not lingering, but she still suppressed a shiver.

Once satisfied, he mounted Elephant in a fluid, effortless movement, and took hold of the lead attached to her horse’s bridle. Sitting sidesaddle unfortunately did not allow her to control her own horse, but it was a small price to pay for the exhilaration of riding.

Max signaled Elephant to walk. Volusia’s horse dutifully followed as they left the stable yard.

With Volusia riding sidesaddle, the fastest they could go was a gentle trot as they took the flat road away from Narbo. Ordinarily, Max would have been simmering with irritation at the slowness, but he would have been happy to move at a snail’s pace if it meant spending time with Volusia.

He stole a glance at her. She appeared to be comfortably seated on her horse and was tipping her face up, as if enjoying the sun and fresh breeze on her face. It had rained yesterday, and today the air smelled pure and clean. He tried not to look at the way the horse’s motion made her hips sway.

They passed several small farms on the outskirts of Narbo. He raised his hand in greeting to the farm workers who stopped their labor to watch him and Volusia pass.

Soon, the dwellings became less frequent, and the road turned to a rutted dirt path. The further they got from civilization, the more Max’s shoulders relaxed. He loved being out here in the countryside, with only Elephant and the birds for company. And today, Volusia.

“It becomes wooded just over that rise.” Max gestured to the rolling hill before them. “Do you like redcurrants? There’s a spot I know with bushes of them.”

“How lovely,” Volusia said. “Perhaps I can bring some back for the kitchens. Avitus is fond of them as well.”

The casual mention of her husband threatened to dampen his good mood, but he strove to keep the conversation light. “How does the governor find his province so far?”

He expected her to have a cheerful, meaningless response about how busy Avitus was or how well he’d settled in, but instead her mouth drew into a small frown. “To be honest, I don’t know. I walked in on him arguing with Petronax before I left. I’m sure it was nothing, but…” She shook her head. “Do you know Petronax well?”

The question caught Max off guard. “Not really.” It was probably for the best that he didn’t have much direct interaction with the legion’s highest commander, given how much his own centurion already disliked him.

“Is the legion loyal to him?”

“Of course.” It went without question that every member of the legion would be blindly loyal to their commander.

“Do you think he’s a good leader?” she pressed.

Max had never stopped to consider that question. “I-I don’t know.”

“What about the people of the province? Do they like him?”

Another question Max had never thought about, but there was the whole business of the mysterious increase in taxes that no one would explain. “Lately there’s been a bit of agitation around taxes. Petronax raised the tax rate this year, and of course everyone is displeased. It’s to be expected, I suppose. No one likes paying taxes.”

“Especially not citizens of a conquered province,” she murmured.

Max gave her a surprised glance. A comment like that bordered on radicalism, especially coming from a governor’s wife.

Volusia lapsed into silence, and Max left her alone with her thoughts. They crested the hill and passed into forested territory. Slowing to a walk, the horses picked their way along a narrow path, avoiding fallen logs and rocks underfoot. Elephant was familiar with this trail, and moved confidently, while Volusia’s mount proceeded with more caution.

Birdsong echoed through the trees, and shafts of sunlight dappled the ground. Max took a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the fresh woodsy air. The rush of moving water grew louder, and Max guided them toward the spot he’d mentioned, where several large bushes festooned with red berries grew next to a narrow, fast-flowing stream.

He drew the horses to a halt and hopped off Elephant, then went to help Volusia down from her horse. His hands encircled her waist, and she grabbed his shoulders for steadiness as he lowered her gently to the ground. The pressure of her hands on his body, even through the fabric of his tunic, sent his mind straight back to that heady, foolish kiss ten years ago.

But she released him as soon as her feet touched the ground, and he didn’t allow his hands to linger on her waist. He busied himself securing the horses’ reins to the branch of a nearby tree. Elephant could be trusted not to wander off, but they had to set a good example for Volusia’s horse.

“Beautiful,” Volusia said, glancing around at the quiet scene. Her gaze lingered on Max. “You look so at home out here. One would never guess you’re a city boy through and through.”

“I’m no such thing,” he said with mock offense. “Just because I grew up on the streets and didn’t know anything existed outside the city walls doesn’t mean I have any love for the city.”

Her mouth opened, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t mean—I know your childhood wasn’t—”

Dis, she thought he was actually affronted. “I’m joking, Volusia.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, let me apologize anyway. You never really spoke of your childhood, and I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

It was true; their friendship had never extended to discussion of Max’s upbringing, but he knew she knew the broad strokes. “I’m sure your stepfather filled you in. What did he tell you?”

She approached one of the redcurrant bushes and plucked a berry, then rolled it between her fingertips, inspecting it. “He said you were a street thief who conned Aelius and Crispina into adopting you. I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

Max let out a short laugh. Trust Rufus to cast Max in the worst light possible. “I was seven years old when Crispina found me on the streets. Barely smart enough to keep myself alive, let alone pull off a con.”

Volusia bit her lip. “I didn’t know you were that young. How did you—forgive me, I shouldn’t ask.”

Max usually didn’t like to remember that he had a life before Aelius and Crispina plucked him off the streets. As an adolescent, he’d gotten into many fights with posh boys who tried to shame him for his humble birth. Max never hesitated to use his fists to defend himself against their taunts, which led to many angry fathers marching to his house and demanding that Aelius punish Max for his insolence. Aelius always shrugged and promised to punish Max when their brat received an equal punishment for thinking they were better than anyone else.

But Volusia wasn’t taunting him. She had never held herself above him, even though she outclassed him in every way. She, for some reason, wanted to know about him, his past, and the thought made him feel warm. “You were going to ask how I ended up on the streets.”

She nodded as she plucked another berry.

“There’s not much to it,” he said. “I was unhappy, so I ran away.” His childhood memories were hazy and shifting, like trying to look at his reflection in flowing water. He could only ever seem to remember his father’s booming voice and hard fist, and his mother’s cold, dismissive face.

“You never tried to go back and find your family—your birth family, I mean?” she asked.

“No.” He shrugged. “I don’t need them. Aelius and Crispina have given me everything I needed, and more.”

She let out a soft sigh. “It breaks my heart to think that any child could end up without a home. I felt guilty leaving Lucius in Rome with his grandparents, even though I know he’s much happier there than he would be here. We would have had to take a whole extra carriage for his books.” She smiled wistfully.

It was still strange to think of Volusia as a mother, even though he’d always known she would be. “Your son is lucky to have you as a mother.”

“I do my best.”

They picked handfuls of berries and sat on the grassy bank to eat them, along with the bread and cheese that Volusia had thoughtfully brought. Volusia saved some of the berries and tucked them into a handkerchief.

“For your husband?” Max asked.

She nodded. “He’ll be pleased.”

“You told him where you were going today?” He assumed she would have had to come up with some subterfuge to be allowed to go on an excursion like this.

“We keep no secrets from each other. For better or for worse,” she added in a lower tone.

Max laid back on the ground, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stared up at the treetops cutting through the blue sky, expecting her to demur and avoid his prying question.

Volusia let out a small sigh. “Avitus is a great man. I always wanted to marry a great man.”

“There are plenty of great men I wouldn’t want to be married to,” Max said, giving his words a joking lilt. But that was yet another reason they were ill-suited; he was as far from a great man as Elephant was from a hydra. He couldn’t even secure one minor promotion, after all.

She rewarded him with a small chuckle. As an adolescent, making her laugh used to be his greatest aim, and he felt the same warm flare of satisfaction at the sound now.

She lapsed into silence a moment later, and Max thought the conversation was finished. Until she spoke once more. “Avitus and I…our marriage is…different from what I expected,” she finally said. “I appreciate his honesty, but sometimes it’s difficult to know you’re married to someone who will never truly desire you.”

Max sat up straight. It was inconceivable that a man could be married to Volusia and not be consumed with desire for her.

“He prefers to spend his nights with his secretary,” Volusia said, in response to the question that must have shown on Max’s face.

“Ah.” He recalled the handsome secretary he often saw dogging Avitus’s heels. “So you don’t…you never…but you have a child together!”

She nodded. “He was very clear that he would endure what he had to until we produced a son. Luckily that did not take long at all.”

Endure . Several emotions warred in his chest: anger at Avitus for not appreciating her, regret that Volusia had suffered so much loneliness, and admiration for the dignified way she spoke of it, absent of any resentment toward her husband.

“Vesta’s tits,” he muttered.

“Max!” A trill of laughter entered her voice. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you all that.”

“I won’t repeat it, if that’s what concerns you.” Impulsively, he reached out and closed his fingers around her hand. “You can trust me, Volusia. Always.”

She gazed into his eyes. “I know.”

Max wanted to ask if she would ever take a lover herself, and if so, could he please be considered for the role. But even he knew that would be inappropriate, and not what Volusia needed right now, so he merely squeezed her hand and let it be.

As the sun began to stretch toward the horizon, they prepared to return to Narbo. Volusia fought regret as she gathered up her harvest of redcurrants and tucked them into Max’s saddle bag.

Max untied the horses. “Are you up for an adventure?”

“Hasn’t this already been one?” Volusia smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

Max checked to make sure Elephant’s saddle was still securely fastened. “We could circle around to the beach and have a gallop. You’d have to ride with me on Elephant.”

“I’ve never galloped on a horse before.” The prospect of being wedged tight on horseback against Max, flying down a stretch of beach, made her stomach quiver. “Will that be quite safe?”

“Do you really think I’d take any risks with you? I’d be ejected from the army in disgrace if I let any harm come to you.”

“With that assurance, I suppose it could be fun.”

He grinned at her. “It will be more than fun, I promise.”

He helped her onto the gelding, mounted Elephant, and they set off on a circuitous route toward the coastline. Soon, the trees cleared, and the dirt beneath their horses’ hooves turned to sand. The sea appeared, endless and gently rolling. Volusia was accustomed to spending summers at Baiae, the coastal retreat of Rome’s wealthy, so the sight of a vast expanse of shifting turquoise water was familiar, but it still took her breath away. The afternoon sunlight sparkled on the water. In the distance, a little fishing boat skimmed the waves.

Her gelding snuffled with distaste as his hooves sank into the sand. She and Max dismounted, and Max secured her horse’s lead under a boulder near the edge of the beach, so he wouldn’t wander off while they galloped.

Max lifted her into Elephant’s saddle. Riding astride, her dress bunched up around her knees, exposing her calves. Elephant sidestepped beneath her, causing Volusia to grab at the saddle for support.

“Are you comfortable?” Max asked.

“I-I think so.”

Max vaulted up in front of her, squeezing them both into the saddle. Volusia tucked her feet around Max’s ankles for security. They were pressed together from hip to ankle, and she could feel every movement of his body as he adjusted his position in the saddle.

“Hold on tight,” he said, and then nudged Elephant into a trot.

Volusia wrapped her arms around his middle, having no choice but to nestle her chin atop his shoulder. Oh, yes, he had filled out deliciously since seventeen. All she could feel was warm, hard muscle beneath his linen tunic.

Elephant trotted down the beach toward the water, where the sand became hard-packed. Max turned her to face down the beach, and she smoothly shifted into a canter. Volusia felt Max’s knees tighten around Elephant, and the horse reached a breakneck gallop.

Wind rushed in Volusia’s ears, blocking out all sound but the rhythmic thump of Elephant’s hooves. To her right, waves crashed onto the beach. Ahead of them was nothing but an empty, gently curving shoreline. They could gallop all the way to Rome at this rate.

Her heart raced, the only thing that could exceed Elephant’s speed. She clutched at Max, afraid she’d go tumbling off Elephant’s back otherwise. Her hair streamed behind her, wisps loosening themselves from her braids. Iris would have quite a time putting her back to rights later.

Max tilted his head back toward her. “You all right?” he asked, raising his voice over the roar of the wind and waves.

She squeezed him even tighter. “Better than all right!”

He laughed. “Dare you to close your eyes.”

An answering laugh bubbled up from deep in her chest. “Only if you don’t.” She closed her eyes. Exhilaration spread through her. Her stomach lurched in a way that was somehow thrilling. Nothing existed but the feeling of flight and the body clutched in her arms, the only thing solid in a world of rushing wind and pounding hooves.

Elephant slowed eventually, and Volusia opened her eyes, squinting in the sunlight. Max turned Elephant around, and they trotted down the beach to rejoin Volusia’s patient gelding. Her breathing calmed, but the thrill didn’t leave her.

“Thank you,” she murmured as Max lifted her back onto her own horse. She thanked him not just for the mounting assistance, but for everything—this day, the gallop, the way he listened to her.

“Of course,” he said, and swung up onto Elephant. He took hold of her horse’s lead, and guided them back in the direction of Narbo.