Abigail laughed outright. “Venus? I think you were a bit strong in your teasing.”
“No. I think you simply do not realize how beautiful you are.” His hand stilled on her neck, then fell away. Abigail turned to meet his gaze, her own questioning. He drew in a long breath, wondering at the trust he saw in her eyes. “I certainly never made it a secret that I found you attractive. I think I made you blush every time we met.”
She surprised him by smiling. “You were certainly shameless.”
“If you had been anyone’s but Jason’s,” he began, but then shook himself to halt that thought. “But for all that, I could not understand how he had let himself fall in love with you.”
“Neither did I.” Sighing, she leaned against the wall at her back. “I thought he would tire of me quickly. I wanted him to. But it seemed that no matter what I did, he found something in it to pursue. If I held aloof, he would take it as a challenge. If I treated him normally, he would take it as encouragement. If I argued with him, he would find it entertaining. And then the baby.” Her eyes fell on Benjamin, and she smiled.
Titus watched the little one’s chest rise and fall. “I thought you a fool for not welcoming what would secure his affections. And I thought him a fool for caring.”
She rolled her head along the wall to face him again. “And I despised you for once convincing him to go to another woman. For making him feel guilty for staying at home with me instead of going into the town with you.”
Regret filled his veins. “And for all that, he loved you anyway, and remained my friend.”
She nodded. “He was a good man.”
Titus mirrored her in agreement, but then just studied her for a long moment. “On your wedding day, I accused you of not loving him.”
A sheen of tears glistened in her eyes. “You were right. I did not love him. I had come to be fond of him by that time, but I could not let him past the pain he had caused me. Even at the last, I had not given him my heart as he wished it. I suppose I loved him in a way.” She dashed at the tears before they could fall. Drew in a quivering breath. “Not as I should have.”
He could manage no accusation. “You made him happy, whatever your emotions. I am glad of that.”
“Now,” Abigail tacked on with a hint of a grin.
“Yes, now.” He smiled too, but it soon faded. “I see, now, what I could not before. That you are a person, not just a slave. A human, not just a woman. You have intelligence and conviction and wisdom. And that the Hebrew way is not so incomprehensible.”
Abigail reached out and patted his hand where it lay on the floor between them. “You have proven yourself to be much more than I ever gave you credit for. I thought you the worst of all Jason’s friends. But of all Jason’s friends, you are the only one who let himself be changed by all that happened.”
He took his hand from hers so that he could put the arm around her and draw her close in companionship. “It surprises me, too.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “But it has at least gotten your mind off the storm.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, undoubtedly instantly aware of it again.
Titus grunted, then laughed. “Sweet as honey, that Abigail. All humility and gentle modesty.” She grinned in response as Samuel was wont to do, and Titus sighed at the sight. “How old are you, Abigail?”
Abigail paused for a moment, as if she had to calculate. “My birthday passed this year without any attention. Fifteen. And you?”
He let his lips tip up in a crooked grin. “I remember when I was fifteen. It was a good year. Bithia came to us that year.” He glanced down and found her eyes lit dryly. “I think you do not care about that, though, do you? And I should try not to think of those things anyway, I know. I am in my twenty-eighth year. A few years older than Jason.”
“But still younger than most centurions. I suppose the five of you all were. Put ahead by politics, and brought together by that circumstance.”
“Indeed.” Titus sighed, resting his head against the wall. “The seas are calming.”
Abigail hummed her agreement, then let silence hold the room. Minutes later she asked, “Did you not like the military, Titus?”
He did not have to think through his answer. “No.”
“Why not?” Exhaustion weighted her voice, and her head came to rest against his shoulder.
“I did not like having to answer to somebody else for my every move.”
“But we all have to answer to someone.” She yawned. “At least in the military, there are others that must also answer to you.”
Titus smiled at her logic and reached with his free hand to smooth a stray tendril of hair from her cheek. “And in Rome, I have servants that do the same.”
She blinked rapidly, much as her son had done earlier when fighting off sleep. “Surely not so many.”