The Protector (17 page)

Just as Bernice promised, Adiona found the sweet rolls and a selection of fruit waiting for her on a small table in the center of the garden. She chose one of the sticky cinnamon rolls and poured extra honey over the top before taking a bite of her favorite treat. She closed her eyes, savoring the added sweetness of the dates.

Footsteps drew her attention to the covered peristyle. The sight of Quintus smiling at her infused her with joy. Leaning against a red pillar, his arms crossed over his broad chest, he wore a dark tunic that turned his eyes a vivid green in his bronzed face. Clean-shaven, his black hair newly shorn, he was so handsome he stole her breath.

“Have you eaten?” she managed to say over the sudden dryness of her throat.

“Hours ago.” He straightened and walked toward her.

“Then you should eat something else.”

“I’ll take one of those if you’ll share.”

She glanced at the platter piled with enough cinnamon rolls to feed a legion. “No, I’m sorry. I planned to eat them all myself.”

He eyed the stack and muttered drily, “All right, if
you insist. Good thing the doors are wide. I may have to roll you out.”

She burst out laughing. “Silly man.” She lifted the platter and held it toward him. “Bernice assures me this is a special recipe, but I suppose you know that.”

“Yes, I think it has something to do with the dates.” He grinned and chose one of the treats. Obviously, Bernice had shared her unique take on the rolls before.

A huge smile tugged at her lips. Just being with Quintus brought her joy. “Personally, I like the added honey best.”

He tried her suggestion and drizzled extra honey over the top of the roll before popping it into his mouth. He chewed with exaggerated enjoyment until he swallowed.

“You’re right. It’s delicious.” He reached up and softly brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Almost as sweet as the kiss you gave me last week.”

Her face flamed. Caught off guard, she felt certain her hot cheeks must rival the redness of the pomegranates sitting on the table. She ducked her head, unused to light banter or having her tongue tied in a knot.

Chuckling, Quintus picked up the plate of rolls and bowl of fruit. He tipped his head to indicate two glasses and a pitcher of fruit juice on the table beside her. “Bring those, will you, and sit with me while you eat. I have some good news.”

She followed him to the rectangular fountain covered in a mosaic pattern of colorful flowers and vines. They sat on the benchlike ledge surrounding the clear pool with the food situated between them.

“What’s happened?” she asked, handing him a glass of nectar.

“I’ve received word concerning my brother.”

“Ah.” Her stomach clenched. She set the pitcher down and feigned interest in the bowl of fruit. “Such good news, indeed. When will he arrive?”

“Therein lies my problem. Lucius sent word to Libo and a messenger brought it this morning. My brother has a penchant for drinking and gambling. It seems he was involved in a…situation a few towns south of here. The local magistrate is holding him in the jail.”

“Can you send Libo to fetch him? If you need money to pay a fine, I have it in my satchel.”

“No, I don’t need your coin.” He gave her a crooked smile. “But thank you for the offer.”

She licked her bottom lip and chose a section of pomegranate. “If ever I can help you, you need only to ask.”

“That’s kind of you, my lady.”

“Adiona,” she stressed. “You’ve been calling me by my given name of late. I prefer that.”

“As you wish, Adiona.” He raised the glass to his lips and drank deeply before he continued. “Libo can’t fetch Lucius for me. I need to go myself.”

Adiona ate the tangy pieces of fruit she held, pretending a calm that eluded her. “Must it be you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Libo’s not practiced enough to sail the necessary distance and my other servants have yet to be rehired.” He reached across the space between them and clasped her hand. “Look at me, lioness.”

Her mouth tightened, but she lifted her gaze. “What?”

“I wouldn’t consider going if I thought you were in the least bit of danger.”

“I know,” she said, trying to keep a petulant tone from her voice.

“If you’re frightened, I won’t leave you.”

Her heart melted. Defeated by her love, she realized she had to let him go. Her capitulation might pave the way for him to regain his fortune and leave her, but his happiness meant more to her than her own. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

The lines in his forehead eased. “I’ll be back this evening. The winds this time of year will take me down the coast in no time. The magistrate is a friend of mine. I’m certain I can convince him to release Lucius into my care. The return sail will take a few hours, but all will be well.”

She worked her hand free of his and stood. There were too many dangers to count. Freak storms and boating accidents were all too common. Her fears began to multiply. If she didn’t let him go now, she’d never be able to. She turned away. “I suppose you must leave, then. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.”

A pigeon landed on a limb of the tangerine tree nearby. She focused on the cooing bird to help maintain her calm appearance. Quintus came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She caught the sweet scent of cinnamon on his fingertips. His warm breath fanned her ear. “You mustn’t be worried. I
will
return.”

Her eyes drifted shut. She didn’t doubt his intentions, nor did she understand her reaction. She’d never been this weak. But now that she had someone to love, she understood all that she had to lose. “You promise?”

“You have my word.”

She released a pent up breath. “Then hurry. I’ll miss you.”

She felt him smile against her temple. “Will you?”

“Of course,” she said, struggling for a light tone, but feeling drearier by the moment. “Who else will amuse me while you’re gone?”

He laughed and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Fighting the need to call him back, she listened to his footsteps until they were gone.

A
diona took a deep breath of sea air and dug her bare toes into the beach’s soft white sand. The afternoon sun sparkled on the water’s surface as though an unseen hand had scattered diamonds from the shore to the dark line of the horizon.

Quintus was due to arrive soon. The hours since he’d gone had stretched like days. In an effort to pass the time more quickly, she’d recruited Libo to help her in the garden. They’d weeded most of the beds, but many of the trees still needed pruning. She planned to continue her efforts tomorrow.

Her sandals dangling by the laces she held, she crossed the beach to a peninsula on the south side of the cove.

Intrigued by the watery nests of sea urchins and starfish in between the rocks, she left her sandals on the beach and climbed to the top of the outcropping.

She gingerly made her way across the slick surface to the farthest point. Surrounded by the churning sea on three sides, she sat down and leaned back on her braced arms. A gust of wind whipped the long tendrils of her hair and the dampness of the rocks seeped through her
tunic. Cold sea spray soaked her face and chest, but she laughed, enjoying the untamed quality of the elements.

Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare, she noticed a lone crag not too far offshore. Like a sentinel guarding the mouth of the cove, the monolith reminded her of Quintus. He was solid and dependable, impervious to the wind and waves of life that stormed against him.

The better she knew Quintus, the more she realized his faith in his God sustained and strengthened him. For some reason the knowledge comforted her. She longed to find that confidence for herself.

The thought reminded her of what Quintus said about prayer. There was no need for a priest or even a temple. Her arms locked around her shins, she lowered her forehead to her knees.

“Quintus’s God,” she whispered. “If You’re there, please hear me. Thank You for bringing him to me. Please deliver him back safely.”

Not sure of what she expected, she waited a long moment for any kind of reaction. When none came, she lay back on the rocks and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun. The ebb and flow of the waves made her sleepy. She wished Quintus was there to bask in the moment with her.

An icy blast of water woke her. Sputtering and a little disorientated, she sat up and rubbed the sting of salt from her eyes. A quick glance out to sea told her she’d slept long enough for the tide to start rolling in. The dark line on the horizon had widened and the waves were rough. The heavy atmosphere promised a storm.

With another prayer for her man’s safe return, she stood and headed for the villa. Thunder rumbled and the rising wind tested her balance. Her hair whipped in wild
disarray as she struggled not to slip. Regretting the decision to investigate the peninsula, she secured her unruly tresses back from her face with one hand and kept her eyes on the slick rocks at her feet.

When the beach appeared in her periphery, she looked up to judge the remaining distance to the villa. She froze. A small sailboat was moored to the pier and a stranger was striding toward to her. Panic jolted her. She tried to stifle her fear, but after weeks of being chased by an assassin she fought a losing battle. Her protector was gone and neither Libo nor Bernice were anywhere in sight, not that either of them would be much help against the tall stranger or the knife sheathed on his belt.

Her thoughts raced. Caught between a possible killer and the oncoming storm, she was fraught with indecision. If she sought refuge in the sea, the inescapable waves would grind her against the rocks, whereas she might have a chance to escape capture if she took her chances on the beach.

Determined to fight for her life if need be, she stooped to pick up a sharp rock before forcing her feet forward. Quintus had called her a lioness and she refused to cower like a lamb.

Weapon tight in hand, she climbed off the peninsula, the jagged stones cutting into her palms and feet. By the time she reached the beach, there was nowhere to go and no use to scream. The stranger was too close to outrun and the stretch of open shore offered no place to hide. Her blood racing with fear, she braced her feet in the sand like a gladiator waiting for battle.

Her nemesis stopped several paces away. His dark eyes roamed over her from head to toe, his glance stopping momentarily at the rock she held. He gave her the slow,
calculated smile of a practiced seducer. “Just the woman I’ve been looking for.”

Her knees began to shake. There was only one person looking for her—her assassin. Her fingers tightened around the rock. She lifted her chin. “I could have gone forever without seeing you.”

“Arrows to my heart, my lady.” He pressed his right palm against his chest in a dramatic display. “Neptune finally sends me a gift from the sea and instead of a nymph to use for my pleasure, I get a siren who disdains me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What is your name, fool?”

“Lucius Ambustus at your service.” He gave a small bow. “Since you’re on my property, perhaps you’d be good enough to tell me your name, as well.”

“Lucius?”
Her gaze darted past him, searching the near-darkness for any sign of Quintus. Her fright evaporated. “Where is your brother? Isn’t he with you? Has he already gone to the villa?”

Lucius lost all traces of humor or warmth. “Who are you?” he demanded over a clap of thunder. “What game do you play? Quintus is dead.”

“No, no, he’s not,” she said in a rush. “He received word you were in jail. He went to look for you this morning.”

“Gods be praised.” Lucius closed his eyes to fully absorb the news. “How did he survive? Where has he been? Who are you to him?”

Seeing his genuine shock and concern, she dropped the rock she held. The sky had darkened ominously and the first drops of rain began to fall. “Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you all once we’re indoors.”

The storm began in earnest as they raced across the beach and up the stone steps. Bernice met them in the
entryway. She handed Adiona a large square of cloth to dry herself, while ignoring the pool of water collecting at Lucius’s feet.

Lucius laughed at the mess. “You might as well know now, my lady, Bernice has a bone to pick with me.”

“Hmmph!” Bernice grunted as she left to fetch another drying cloth.

Unused to servants showing disapproval of their master, Adiona glanced between him and Bernice’s departing back. “From what I understand, she has a whole skeleton of justified complaints against you.”

Lucius grinned. “True. But all will be well now that Quintus is back to straighten us out.”

Bernice returned with the cloth. Lucius dried his hair and patted down his tunic before showing Adiona into an office on the north side of the house. She knew instantly the room belonged to Quintus. The deep green walls and masculine, expertly carved wood furniture spoke of a man with understated taste and refinement. She took a seat in front of the desk, noting the set of unopened scrolls a messenger brought earlier that day, the ivory stylus and bronze oil lamp. Lucius sat in the chair beside her.

“That hulk is not mine,” he tilted his head toward the desk. “After what I’ve done to the family fortune, I’m not fit to sit behind it.”

“No head for sums?” she asked.

“None at all. Thank the gods Quintus is back or I’d end up in the streets.”

Adiona studied Lucius’s pleasant, open expression. She began to realize what Quintus meant about his jovial brother. Lucius might be full-grown, but he was a boy in a man’s body. There was no guile in him, but neither was there any hint of maturity.

“Now tell me what happened. Why are you here?” he said, his eyes keen with interest. “When will Quintus return?”

She sat back in her leather chair and explained the situation, including her reasons for being there. “Quintus received word of your whereabouts earlier today. He promised to be back by this evening, but with the storm, I don’t see how.”

Her gaze drifted to the open window and the sheets of rain pouring off the eaves. On land, the storm was relatively minor so far, with little thunder and no lightning. But at sea, in a small sailboat… She shuddered. Quintus and his safety were paramount.
Please, God, bring him home.

Bernice’s footsteps echoed in the hall. The maid crossed through the office’s open door carrying a tray. She’d draped a
palla
over her left arm. “I’ve brought you both some hot lemon water. I don’t want either of you to fall ill.”

“See, she can’t stay mad at me.” Lucius winked at Bernice. “Did you sweeten it with honey, my honey?”

Bernice snorted and rolled her eyes, but her manner softened a little. She set the tray on the desk and shook out the
palla.
“I thought you might want this to keep warm, my lady.”

Adiona murmured her thanks. With her hair and tunic damp, she had begun to feel chilled. Wrapped in the
palla,
she cupped her hands around the warm glass and sipped the hot, sweetened water. Bernice lit several more oil lamps before she left.

Lucius eyed her over the rim of his drink. “Don’t worry about Quintus, my lady. Nothing bad ever happens to him.”

Incredulous, Adiona set her glass down with a thunk.
Already fretful over Quintus’s whereabouts, she lost her temper. “
Really?
You don’t think the death of his son was bad? Or being arrested and tossed into prison? Perhaps you’d consider it a
good
thing to be made a slave or to fight for your life in the arena?”

Lucius shrank back in his seat, clearly unused to facing serious anger. “Of course, Fabius’s death was a tragedy,” he said sadly. “We all felt it. The child was a joy. Always laughing. Quintus had just bought him his first pony last spring. But the rest?” He shrugged. “My brother is golden. Always has been. Look how he’s recovered. I find I can’t be distressed when he’s alive and all is well.”

She glared at Lucius. “All is
well?
I beg to differ. All
was
well until word of your whereabouts came this morning. If not for your lackadaisical ways, Quintus would be here with me now.”

His face fell. She refused to feel guilty, even though he made her feel like she’d kicked a puppy.

“You’re right,” he said, full of woe. “I’m sorry. I always cause trouble. Did you know Quintus and I are twins?”

“Yes, he mentioned it,” she answered, taken off guard by the unexpected question. Although both men were handsome, Lucius was a duller version of his brother. His hair was brown not black, his eyes mossy-green instead of emerald. They shared a similar height, but Quintus was more muscular. Most of all, Lucius possessed none of his brother’s presence. When Quintus entered a room, he owned it. Even in the chaos of the arena, he’d become a focal point for the mob.

“Since boyhood he’s watched my back and cleaned up my messes,” Lucius shared without a hint of reserve. “I’ve been overwhelmed without him these many
months thinking he was dead. I’ve missed him more than I can say.”

“I understand,” she said, thinking how dejected she’d been after a single day without Quintus.

Some time later, Bernice returned to the office and delivered roasted fish with an herb sauce for dinner. The delicious scent made Adiona’s nervous stomach roll sickly.

She cast another glance out the window. Night had come early thanks to the storm that continued to build. Flashes of lightning lit the darkness, thunder crashing quickly on its heels.

Raw with worry, Adiona jumped to her feet and began to pace. Lucius chattered on while he ate. She ignored him until she realized she’d been given a chance to learn more about Quintus from his talkative twin.

She faced the man-child and gave him a winsome smile. “Are you married, Lucius?”

He finished chewing a bite of fish. “Twice divorced. I have no trouble getting wed. It’s the knack of keeping a wife that escapes me.”

“And Quintus? He was married, yes?”

His mouth tightened and he quieted for the first time that evening. Frustrated, Adiona wanted to kick him. Why, when they were finally discussing something of interest, did he have to go sullen and silent?

“He told me a little of his marriage,” she said. “I take it he wasn’t happy. I confess I’m curious to know what Quintus did to make the poor woman miserable enough to…” She sliced a finger across her throat and let the implication hang in the air. “It wasn’t
his
fault,” Lucius said taking the bait in his brother’s defense. He pushed back his tray of half-eaten
fare. His shoulders slumped. “Actually, it’s mine in a roundabout way.”

“
Your
fault? How?”

“We were only eighteen,” he offered as an excuse. “I gambled myself into a corner with the son of a rival family. I ended up owing Faustinus more than a year of my allowance. For once, I didn’t want to embroil Quintus in my problems, but when Faustinus sent his lackeys to collect my debt, I didn’t have a way of hiding the broken bones they left behind.”

Thinking he deserved a few broken bones for being stupid enough to gamble away his inheritance, she said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“When Quintus found out what happened, he offered to loan me the money, but I owed too much. It was late in the year and he didn’t have enough funds on hand, either.”

He ran his fingers through his hair in a way that reminded her of Quintus. “He tried to reason with Faustinus, but the rat wasn’t interested. Quintus went to our parents for me, but they refused to pay the debt. Neither of us realized they declined because Faustinus had petitioned them for a marriage between Quintus and Faustinus’s sister, Faustina.”

Adiona’s anger burned brighter toward Lucius by the moment.

“You see, all the ladies of Amiternum wanted Quintus. Our family is prosperous and Quintus has been blessed since birth. Faustina knew she’d be the envy of every woman in the province if he married her.”

An alarm sounded in Adiona’s head. She sank into the chair behind her. The story sounded eerily similar to how Crassus had chosen her. “I can understand any
woman wanting to marry Quintus, but why did he agree to Faustina?”