IT WAS made apparent subtly that we were to take our leave. Falco and Associates withdrew from the white-and-gold salon, leaving the family of Rubirius Metellus to reflect on the end to their difficulties.
The Camillus brothers stood with Helena and me as we waited for our bearers. Canidianus Rufus, who had stormed out earlier, was already prowling the atrium; his wife’s litter stood ready and he was hanging around for Juliana.
After a glance at the others, I walked across to him. “All very enlightening!”
He grunted. As a mode of expression it was minimal, but suited his personality. Even among a family he approved of, this man would have been restless and abrasive. Today he was ready to boil over. He glared at me through eyes like slits.
“Of course they have not admitted the whole story.” I implied that I knew anyway. “I don’t care for letting a murderess get away with it—and they haven’t thought about Lutea. He intends trouble, depend on it. He needs money far too much to stop.”
Canidianus Rufus was hopping from foot to foot, praying for his wife to arrive and free him. But they had brainwashed him into keeping their secrets and he managed to remain silent.
I pretended not to notice his discomfiture. “I do applaud Laco for sewing it all up with Donatus—Laco must have been working his arse off over all this . . . Curious family,” I commented. “Though strangely loyal. And now they will get away with it—”
“It stinks!” Rufus could no longer hold back.
I shrugged. Thinking of how old Donatus was now taking on little Lucius, I suggested, “So much could have been avoided by a quiet adoption process, surely?”
Helena had crossed the atrium to join us. She slipped her hand through my arm. “Oh no, Marcus. Adoption is for families of good birth only. The Metelli never had that option.”
“Because his father was unknown?” I pulled a face. Canidianus Rufus stood silent, either unaware how we were playing him, or helpless to escape. “Negrinus would take his mother’s rank, Helena—what’s the problem? Adultery is the fashion; there is no stigma nowadays.”
“Keep your voice down!” Helena hushed me, drawing Rufus into our gossip. “Marcus is so innocent. Not knowing a father is awkward, love, but common enough. But their situation is just unworkable. They have only admitted half of it. Rubirius Metellus was not his son’s father—but nor was Calpurnia Cara his mother! Am I right, Rufus?”
Canidianus Rufus was desperate to share his anger: “Oh, you’re horribly right, young lady!”
“Did Calpurnia bear three children?” hissed Helena. “Two girls and a boy?”
“Yes,” said Rufus.
“And the boy died?”
“Yes.”
“So Calpurnia obtained a substitute from Euboule?”
“Yes!”
“But that’s appalling.” I joined in as if the thought had only just struck me. “Such a child was a disaster. Negrinus could be anyone!”
Canidianus Rufus could no longer contain his true feelings. “It’s disgusting!” he roared, not caring who heard him. The Camillus brothers looked startled and came over toward us. “She should have been divorced, the minute Metellus found out. Passing off a child on him? He should have charged the bloody woman with deception. As for the so-called son—” He was livid. “Don’t ask me to use his name again—he has no right to it. That sham! It’s a bloody disgrace that decent people are expected to go on dealing with him. He should never have been allowed in the Senate. Never put up for aedile. Never kept in the family. I simply can’t believe it! They should all stop cozying up to him—and kick him back where he belongs!”
Overcome with revulsion, Rufus stomped off. We four stood there stunned—not only by the revelation. The outburst from Rufus showed the full force of senatorial snobbery. And his self-righteous prejudice showed exactly why the Metellus family had been trapped.
After a moment Aelianus whistled quietly through his front teeth. “Well?” he asked Helena.
She took a deep breath. “I just guessed. Calpurnia Cara’s own son must have died while being nursed by Euboule. Because fear or distaste made her not want to have another baby, Calpurnia chose not to tell her husband, but she let Euboule substitute another child. It worked. It worked for thirty years. But Calpurnia had to pay Euboule extortionately to keep the secret—and in the end Euboule or her daughter began to tell others.”
“It was always bound to happen,” Justinus observed.
“Calpurnia Cara made a terrible mistake,” Helena agreed. “When Saffia told Metellus, there was no way out. Calpurnia wanted to keep the secret for her own sake, and Metellus knew he could not allow anyone in good society to know. Metellus may have stood by Negrinus—who was the innocent victim—but he raged at Calpurnia. I can even see why she lost any feeling for Negrinus. Well, she always knew he was not her child. She let him be falsely accused of killing Metellus. She came to hate him for the trouble he had caused, and must have wanted him out of the way. It’s only astonishing that neither his father nor his sisters would abandon him.”
“That’s the one good part of this.” I took up the story quietly. “Metellus senior had brought up Negrinus as his own and could not reject him. Yet he had to keep the secret. No alternative. It’s more than merely scandalous. This supposititious child could have any parentage. To blackmail Calpurnia, you can bet Euboule suggested the very worst.”
“What’s that?” asked Aelianus.
“Well, Negrinus could be Euboule’s own child, in itself no recommendation. There are terrible alternatives, as the poor man must know. To be slave-born will make him a slave too; in theory, an owner could still claim him.”
Appreciating the problem now, Aelianus chimed in: “Either of his parents could be infamous. If he is the child of an actor, a pimp, or a gladiator, he’s a legal outcast. Rufus was right—he is completely disqualified from the Senate.”
“That’s nothing. He has even lost his citizenship,” I added. “He has no birth certificate, we can be sure. His marriage was illegal. His children are now nobodies as well.”
“However much his sisters want to help,” Helena groaned, “they cannot give him any status. The worst of all is—he doesn’t even know who he is. I bet Euboule won’t tell him.”
“Whatever she does say, he won’t feel able to believe her.” Justinus groaned.
What Verginius Laco had hygienically called the “situation” was dire. There was no chance of passing off Negrinus as of senatorial rank now. He and his children were lost souls. He could only leave Rome and begin afresh. Many have done it. In the Empire, a man of character could achieve much. But it would be hard for anyone who had been brought up, as he was, with such vastly different expectations.
We had our own problems. This case had left us with serious troubles. But when our transport came and we said farewell to her brothers, Helena and I went home that night in a subdued mood, not thinking of ourselves. “Gnaeus Metellus Negrinus” had been a diffident, well-meaning young man, a good father with strength of character. Now he could no longer even use his name. To be born with nothing was grim. But to be born with everything, then to lose it, was far more cruel.