Livia held her breath, waiting for Marius to respond, to show some sign that he’d heard her at least, though his stern expression gave nothing away. She hardly recognised the man she’d gone to bed with two nights before. This one looked as impenetrable as marble. Seconds or minutes might have gone by before he slowly unfolded his arms.
‘Go on.’
She let the breath go in a rush, her body shuddering with relief. If he gave her an opportunity to explain, then there was a chance, a faint one perhaps, but still a chance that he might understand, too.
‘Her name was Etain. She worked on my father’s country estate. He owned her for twelve years before they even met.’
‘Twelve years?’ He looked sceptical and she nodded.
‘It’s not so unusual. He lived mostly in town back then and he was still married to his first wife. It was only once he was widowed that he retired to the country. She was one of his kitchen slaves.’ She smiled sadly. ‘He used to say that he fell in love with her cooking before he even set eyes on her.’
‘Wait.’ Marius lifted a hand. ‘Go further back. What was she doing there in the first place?’
‘What do you think?’ She gave him a hard look. ‘What is any slave doing in a place that isn’t their home? Her village in Caledonia was one of those that defied the Romans when they were building the second wall.’
‘The Antonine?’
‘Yes. Roman legionnaires attacked at night so they barely had a chance to defend themselves. Everyone she knew was either killed or enslaved. She was only nine years old when she was brought south in chains and sold at market like an animal. My grandfather’s steward eventually bought her for his estate. She was a slave for thirty years.’
‘Until she met your father?’
She nodded vigorously, fighting a swell of emotion. ‘They fell in love. It sounds unlikely, I know, that she could love a Roman after everything they’d done to her, but she told me once that thirty years is a long time to hate. She said that my father wasn’t responsible for what had happened to her village and that love was love, wherever and whoever it came from.’ She rested her chin on her knees, looking inwards rather than out. ‘Though even then she refused to marry him at first.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she wasn’t his only slave. There were others, a dozen of them from all over the Empire. She told my father that she could never give herself to a man who denied happiness and freedom to other people.’
‘That’s why he set them free?’
‘Every one of them.’ She smiled proudly. ‘When Tarquinius heard about it he thought he’d gone mad. He even tried to stop the marriage, but by the time he arrived it was too late. My mother said they had a huge argument about it. He made my father promise never to tell anyone about her and never to go back to Lindum.’
‘His own father?’
‘Yes. Tarquinius was afraid of what it would do to his reputation if people found out that his father had married one of his slaves, so it was all kept secret. He probably bribed or threatened anyone who knew the truth. Fortunately, my mother didn’t care. She’d no desire to play the Roman lady and she loved my father. She thought that she was too old to have children, but then I came along and we were happy, her and Father and me. She taught me how to cook, as well as some Caledonian customs, including the language. She always told me that Caledonia was as much a part of my heritage as Rome. I grew up thinking of myself as belonging to both. It never occurred to me that other people wouldn’t think that way, too.’
‘Then what happened?’ His expression was still inscrutable.
She lifted her chin from her knees, looking at him sombrely. ‘She died. We thought it was just a cough at first, but it was more serious than we realised. One moment she was healthy and the next she was...gone. My father was heartbroken. It sent him into a decline, but he loved me and he knew that Tarquinius loathed me simply because of my mother. I think he clung on to life for as long as he could just to protect me, but eventually he got sick, too.’ She took a deep breath, blinking back tears. ‘Just before he died, he summoned Tarquinius and made him swear to take care of me, to treat me like a real sister.’
‘Did he?’
‘Maybe, although I don’t suppose that was saying very much in the first place. After the funeral, he took me back to Lindum and handed me over to his wife, but she hated me even more. She made me attend to her every whim, treating me like a slave in my own brother’s home. Then one evening, one of his business associates, Julius, a man twenty years older than me, noticed me standing in the background. I saw him staring, but I didn’t think anything of it until Tarquinius summoned me to his office the next day.’
She shook her head at the memory. ‘He walked around me, looking me up and down as if I were an animal to be inspected. Then he said that he’d arranged a marriage for me. He didn’t ask or offer me a choice. He just told me I was going to be married.’
‘To Julius?’
‘Yes. I was horrified, but Tarquinius said that I ought to feel honoured, that I ought to be grateful to him even for arranging any marriage at all considering who I was.’ Anger stiffened her spine. ‘That was how he said it, who I was, as if I were somehow repellent to him. Then he said that I should never mention my mother, not to a single living soul, but especially not to Julius, and that if anyone asked, I was to say she’d been a Roman widow from a nearby village. He said that if I told...’ She faltered over the words, the old fear reasserting itself.
‘If you told...’ Marius’s voice had a sharp edge to it.
‘If I told, then he wouldn’t be held responsible for the consequences.’ An icy shudder ran through her. ‘I was only fourteen at the time. I didn’t know what he meant, but he frightened me. He still frightens me... In any case, I went through with the marriage and I never told anyone. In ten years I’ve never spoken about her until now. It feels strange even saying her name.’
‘So that’s your excuse—’ the muscles in his jaw were bunched, as if he were clenching them all together ‘—that it’s simply become a habit not to speak about your mother?’
‘In part—’ she ignored the sarcasm ‘—although believe it or not, I wanted to tell you. I loved my mother. I was proud of her. She was so full of life and love and happiness despite how hard her life had been. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t talk about her. And Julius wasn’t a bad man, not really. He was kind to me at first. After a while I thought that he wouldn’t even mind if I did tell him the truth, but I was too afraid of Tarquinius to take the risk. Then he found out, just after Julia was born.’
‘But if you didn’t tell him...’
‘Tarquinius. After everything he’d made me promise, he was the one who told.’
‘Why?’
‘Money. He’d arranged the marriage thinking an alliance would make Julius more obliging in business. It did for a while, but he kept on pushing for more until eventually my husband refused. So Tarquinius told him everything, about my mother, about where she came from, about her being a slave. He threatened to tell the whole of Lindum if Julius didn’t give him the prices he wanted.’
‘Blackmail?’
‘Yes. He destroyed my life and my daughter’s future over the price of a few wine barrels. But then the only thing my brother cares about is money. He probably never gave a thought to what would happen to me.’
‘What did happen to you?’
She blinked, taken aback by the note of repressed anger in his voice.
‘Julius was furious, but he didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking. He wasn’t a violent man, although he wasn’t a particularly clever one either. If he’d thought about it for even a moment then he’d have realised that Tarquinius would never have gone through with his threat. It was his own reputation he would have been damaging, too. But Julius was so afraid of what people might say, of his family name being tarnished, that he gave in at once. He gave Tarquinius the low prices he wanted and took his anger out on me instead. Everything changed after that.’
She picked up a strand of hair and wound it around her fingers. ‘Julius had always said that he loved my red hair, but afterwards he hated it. He used to stare at me as if I were some kind of monster. He called me names. Barbarian. Savage. That’s why I overreacted that night with Scaevola.’
‘You didn’t overreact.’
She glanced up, surprised by the conviction behind the words. She’d left her hair loose deliberately, so that he could see how much of a Caledonian she really was, although her appearance didn’t seem to bother him.
‘After a couple of years I got used to his coldness, but then as Julia grew up he started to look at her in the same way, too. That was when the accusations started.’
Marius sat down on the edge of the bed, his back towards her, though he kept his face half-turned to one side.
‘What kind of accusations?’
She swallowed, trying to find the words. It seemed strange to be talking about the intimate details of her life with Julius, but now that she’d started she felt as though a wall were crumbling inside of her, releasing all of the pain she’d held in for ten years.
‘Livia?’ he prompted her and she jerked her head up.
‘He called me a lying whore and said that Julia wasn’t his daughter. Maybe because she looked so much like me and nothing at all like him. He accused me of sleeping with other men behind his back. It wasn’t true. I hardly left the house, let alone saw anyone else, but he was looking for reasons to divorce me and disown Julia, too. We were already leading separate lives, but he set his servants to watch me and report on everything I did. They saw his contempt, so they treated me the same way. I was despised and insulted every day behind my back and sometimes openly to my face. Only Porcia stood up for me.’
‘Your maid?’
‘Yes...’ she smiled affectionately ‘...although she was my slave first, only a girl when Julius bought her as a gift. It was still early on in our marriage and he thought that I’d be pleased. I was appalled. I gave her a document of manumission the same day, but she stayed anyway. She doesn’t know everything about me, but she suspects. She stayed even when I had nothing to pay her after Julius died.’
‘He left you nothing at all?’
‘Not a single denarius. After his funeral, I sent word to Tarquinius, though he didn’t answer at first. I thought that perhaps he wasn’t going to, that he was going to abandon us, but then he sent his henchmen to collect me. It was just like the first time. He didn’t ask what I wanted. He just told me that he was sending me here to marry again. Scaevola must have seemed like the perfect solution to his problems. Two birds with one stone. A way to get rid of me and make another useful alliance at the same time.’
‘So you think he was planning to blackmail Scaevola, too?’
‘Probably, as soon as he thought of a use for him. I doubt he would have taken on his debt otherwise, although perhaps he thought it was a reasonable price to pay to get rid of us.’
She ran her hands through her hair, pushing it out of her face and over her shoulders. ‘Part of me was excited when he told me where we were going. I’d always wanted to see Caledonia. I thought it would be a kind of homecoming even though I knew my marriage would be the same situation all over again. Then I met Scaevola and I realised it would be even worse. He didn’t even need to know the truth to hate me. He was repelled just by the colour of my hair, though in a strange way that made me feel better. I knew that when Tarquinius finally did tell him the truth, he couldn’t have hated me any more.’ She drew in a deep breath and then let it out again slowly. ‘I thought that there was no way out. I thought I was trapped.’
‘And then I won you.’ He twisted his face away again.
‘Yes.’
Slowly she unfurled her legs and clambered to the edge of the bed, sitting down beside him. ‘I’m not trying to excuse myself. I should have told you before we got married. I’m sorry that I didn’t. After you stood up to Scaevola for me I owed you the truth, but it all happened so quickly. I was selfish and knew that you’d be a good father to Julia, and...the truth is, I liked you. I felt as though there was something, some kind of bond, between us from the start. I wanted to marry you, but I was afraid that I might have misjudged you the way I did Julius.’
‘A bond?’
‘Yes. I thought that we could be happy together, but I was scared that if I told you the truth then you might change your mind about me, too.’
‘I wouldn’t have.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
‘No.’ His voice sounded leaden. ‘Your husband was a stupid man, Livia. Your brother and Scaevola are stupid, small-minded men. Your mother was captured and sold into slavery. Neither of those things was her fault. There’s no shame in them either.’
‘But she was still Caledonian. I’m half-Caledonian. They’re enemies of Rome.’
‘Rome has a lot of enemies.’
She stared at him. The words themselves sounded sympathetic, though his tone was anything but.
‘So...you mean you don’t care who my mother was?’
‘I don’t care if she was Boadicea herself. I don’t care about the colour of your hair either. I do care about the fact that you didn’t tell me.’
‘I was going to, I promise. I tried when we arrived, but then the timing didn’t seem right with the rebellion...’
‘You didn’t think it important considering who’s rebelling?’
‘I hoped that Nerva was right and you were mistaken. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to choose sides. I’ve never wanted to do that.’
‘If we’re attacked, then you might have to.’ His gaze turned accusing. ‘This is why you were so upset about the prisoner yesterday, isn’t it? You should have told me then what was wrong.’
‘How could I when you spoke about him so cruelly? You called him a barbarian.’
‘Because I’d been fighting! What did you expect?’ He glared at her for a moment and then seemed to look inwards. ‘But it was still wrong of me. I lost my temper and I shouldn’t have.’
‘So did I.’ She looked across at him hopefully. ‘You’re right—I should have told you then, but maybe it’s not too late...’
‘It is. It’s too late for any of this.’ He got to his feet, his expression as stern as she’d ever seen it. ‘I can’t trust you now, Livia. You kept secrets from me and went to see a prisoner behind my back. How do I know you’re not planning to help him escape?’
‘I’m not.’
‘But if you had the opportunity, would you?’ He held her gaze steadily. ‘Would you let him go?’
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. No matter what his reaction, she wasn’t going to lie again. ‘If it came to a choice between that and abandoning him to a life of slavery, then, yes, I’d help him escape.’
‘Then you need to stay here. Consider yourself a prisoner, too.’
‘A prisoner?’
‘Until things are settled. After that... I don’t know.’
He made for the door and then stopped, his shoulders tensing suddenly as if a new thought had just occurred to him.
‘Didn’t you think your brother would try to blackmail me, too?’ He turned around slowly, a look of suspicion on his face. ‘Didn’t that occur to you when you married me?’
‘Ye-es, but I thought he’d leave us alone.’
‘Because there’s nothing he’d want from a man like me?’
‘What? No!’ She was shocked by the strength of bitterness in his voice.
‘Or is that the real reason you married me?’ Green eyes blazed with a burst of anger. ‘Because you thought that with my family history I couldn’t be blackmailed?’
‘No, I told you I was going to...’
His lip curled. ‘You know, I thought I was doing the honourable thing in marrying you, but it wasn’t my honour that you wanted, was it? You wanted a man with no honour left to lose. That way your half-brother would leave you alone and you’d never have had to tell me the truth. I was just a means to an end.’
‘No! It wasn’t like that. I didn’t think he’d try to blackmail you, but I thought that if he did then you’d be the kind of man who’d stand up to him, who wouldn’t be threatened or intimidated. I never even thought about your family history. How could I when I don’t even know what it is?’
‘The details aren’t important.’ The anger in his eyes seemed to dissipate suddenly, his whole face shutting down as if he’d just pulled a mask across it.
‘Aren’t they?’ She shot to her feet, angry now, too. How dare he accuse her of using him so callously! ‘I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets!’
‘It’s no secret. I told you, there was a mutiny.’
‘But you won’t tell me what about!’
‘Because I don’t talk about my father. If you want to know more, then ask someone else. Half the legion could tell you.’
‘I don’t want someone else to tell me. I want you to do it! I’ve just told you everything about my mother. Why can’t you do the same?’
‘Because he dishonoured my family!’
‘Our family now! Mine and yours and Julia’s, too! And did he really dishonour it? Or was that just according to Rome?’ She narrowed her eyes scornfully. ‘You know the similarity between us, Marius? We’ve both been told that our pasts are shameful, something we ought to hide, but the difference is that you actually believe it! I don’t. Yes, I should have told you about my mother before, but now that I have, I’m glad of it. I don’t want to hide her away any more! I’m the daughter of a Caledonian slave, but she was a good woman, a better person than most Romans I’ve met. I’ve never been ashamed of her. I could never be ashamed of someone I loved, no matter how many insults are hurled at me, but you’re so deeply enslaved to the Empire that it never occurs to you that Rome might be wrong!’
‘I said I don’t talk about him!’
‘Do you really think that Rome is so perfect? Do you think that fools like Scaevola should be allowed to rule just because of who their fathers are? Was your father any worse than him?’ She stormed up to face him. ‘Even if he was, it doesn’t reflect upon you!’
‘If you can say that, then you really aren’t Roman.’
‘Then maybe I don’t want to be Roman!’ She shoved him hard in the chest, the words bursting out of her in a frenzy. ‘Maybe I’d prefer to be Caledonian!’
‘Exactly.’ His tone was brutal. ‘Which is why I can’t trust you.’