Page 20 of The Tribune Temptation (Roman Heirs #1)
T he next day, Crispina left Max in Gaia’s care and paid a visit to Horatia. She relayed the real story of how she’d ended up with Max, the argument with Aelius, and their reconciliation. Horatia listened with wide eyes.
“So, I came to ask if you have any tunics Max might borrow until we can make some things for him,” Crispina finished. “And I thought Max might enjoy meeting Paullus. He needs a friend, and they could play together. May I bring him over? Or would you prefer to visit?” Horatia had not visited Crispina since before her marriage, which Crispina had attributed to the recent birth of her baby.
“I’ll send someone with some spare tunics straightaway,” Horatia said. “But for the other matter, well…” She fiddled with a carnelian ring on her left hand. “I’m not sure they’d get along.”
“They’re children. Children play together, don’t they?”
“You said yourself the child was unruly and foul-mouthed. I worry about the influence he’ll have on my Paullus.”
Crispina raised an eyebrow. “Max may have absorbed some undesirable habits from his upbringing, but he’s a good boy. Your son’s influence would only help him develop more genteel behavior.”
Horatia chewed her lip. “Is Aelius going to adopt him?”
The unexpected question threw Crispina. “I-I don’t know.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Would Aelius do that?
Horatia shifted on the couch. “I realize you’re not a mother, so it’s difficult for you to understand these things.”
“What things?” Horatia’s air of superiority rankled, but Crispina strove for equanimity. She had already recognized she knew very little about caring for a child, so maybe Horatia’s experience would be helpful.
“Well, as a mother, I must put my child’s happiness above all else, even helping a friend.”
“How is meeting Max detrimental to Paullus’s happiness?” A defensive edge sharpened Crispina’s voice.
“It’s nothing personal, of course. I’m sure he’s a delightful boy. But Paullus is of an age where his friendships matter to his future success. He must be associating with future senators and consuls. Not…” Her words trailed off.
Crispina bristled. “Not what?”
“Not a vagrant who’s become your latest project,” Horatia snapped.
Crispina’s nails dug into her palms. Horatia could be haughty and vain sometimes, but she hadn’t thought her friend’s worse traits would extend to depriving a child of a playmate. Anger bubbled inside her, and the words came as fast and sharp as arrows. “Paullus would be lucky to befriend Max. You’ve changed, Horatia. Once we used to hold those lessons together. But now all you care about is—”
“Yes, I’ve changed,” Horatia interjected. “Those visits were a novelty. A distraction. Now, I’m a wife and a mother. I have to worry about my own children and their future. Not some vagrant whose parents can’t be bothered to provide for him. And I can see that marriage has changed you as well. I can’t imagine you’d pursue something so obviously unsuitable without the influence of your freedman husband.”
Crispina narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you haven’t once invited me and Aelius to dine with you since we’ve been married? Or visited me at home?”
Horatia blinked. “I see you all the time.”
“But you’ve never met Aelius. You’ve never stepped foot in our house.” She hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge how impolite Horatia had been until now, but the realization crashed over her in a disquieting wave. “You think he’s beneath you.”
Horatia’s face flushed. “Is that such a surprise? He’s a freedman , Crispina.”
“He is my husband.” Crispina surged to her feet. “Am I beneath you too?”
“Of course not!” Horatia protested. “You’re, well…one of us.”
One of us . All her life, Crispina had been raised to believe that family, ancestry determined everything. It put power at the fingertips of a select few, and everyone else was supposed to be content with their lot. Her lessons had challenged those beliefs in a small way, yes, but Aelius was the one who had truly shattered all of her illusions.
“If you don’t want him,” Crispina said, “then you can’t have me either. We are bound together.”
“Bound together?” Horatia let out a disbelieving laugh. “You never talked this way when you were married to Memmius. Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for a freedman.”
“What if I am?” Crispina shot back. The words came out before she could think them through. Their meaning hit her with a rush of dizziness.
Somehow, inexplicably, she was falling in love with her husband.
“You know he’s going to divorce you,” Horatia said. “I thought that was always the plan.”
Crispina cleared her throat. It is . “We have nothing left to discuss.” Without another word, she left the room and strode through the house until she reached the front door. A slave opened it for her and stood aside.
She paused before the open door, wondering if Horatia would run after her and apologize. But the house was silent, so she nodded to the slave and left.
She took the long way home, hoping the walk would boil off some of her anger. It didn’t. When she arrived home, she went straight to the library and slammed the door behind her. She could hear Max and Gaia laughing somewhere in the house, but she didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to have to explain why she was angry. Max might not understand, but it would hurt Gaia to know that Crispina’s friend didn’t think Aelius was good enough to associate with.
Crispina paced the small library in a tight circle. She wished there was something in here she could throw, smash. She eyed a tempting inkwell, but that would only make a mess.
She had never argued with Horatia before, not like this. Her friend could often be snobbish and haughty, but it had never bothered Crispina so much.
You just took the side of a man you’ve known for mere months over the best friend you’ve grown up with. But somehow, Aelius had slipped into her heart without her notice. His side was the one she wanted to be on, no matter the cost.
A knock came at the door to the library. “Crispina?”
Aelius. She frowned. She hadn’t expected to see him until evening. “Yes?”
“Are you hungry? I decided to come back for lunch. Thought you could use the company.”
She felt a flare of appreciation beneath her anger. Aelius rarely returned home for lunch, and he must be doing it now because of Max. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
He paused. “Can I come in?”
She didn’t want him to know about her argument with Horatia, but if she refused to see him, he would know something was wrong anyway. She sighed. “Yes.”
He opened the door, entered, and closed it behind him. “You look upset.”
Her lips tightened. He’d gotten to know her too well. Might as well come out with it. “I went to see Horatia to tell her about Max. She doesn’t want him to associate with her son.”
His eyes darkened. “On what grounds?”
“Apparently her son needs friends of a higher caliber. Max will be a bad influence.” Bitterness tainted her words. “I think I may not see her again. She said certain things that will be hard to forgive.” About you both.
Aelius nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. I know you’re close.”
“But there was one thing she mentioned that I hadn’t thought of. She asked if…” Crispina hesitated. It felt much too soon to bring this up. “She asked if you might adopt Max. One day. If he were to stay here.”
Aelius was silent, his face unreadable.
“I understand if you wouldn’t,” Crispina said hurriedly. “I’d never ask it of you, I know it’s a big—”
“I might,” Aelius said quietly.
Crispina stared at him. “Really?”
“One day, if his family doesn’t make themselves known, I might.” A tentative smile crept over his face. “I would have had nothing if my stepfather hadn’t adopted me. I wouldn’t have been able to run for office. A name is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. If I could give that to someone else, why wouldn’t I?”
Her eyes prickled. “I…that’s…” She couldn’t summon the proper words to express the warmth that was suffusing her, a different kind of heat from her anger.
Aelius stepped toward her and clasped her shoulders, then drew her in to embrace her. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, pressing her gently to his chest. “Of all the things I never expected from our marriage,” he murmured against her cheek, “a child was at the top of the list.”
Her throat tightened, and she was glad she could hide her face in his chest. She took a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself, then pulled back. “Time for lunch?”
He smiled down at her, and dipped his head to kiss her on the forehead. “Time for lunch.”