Her calm fled when her son’s form filled the entrance. She flew to embrace him. “My son!”
“Mother. I have missed you.” He held her close, then drew back enough to look at her, his smile genuine. “You are a vision of loveliness.”
Aquilia smiled at the compliment, but then another figure caught her eye. A woman. Her smile fell from her lips. “Who is that?”
Titus turned to include the woman, giving Aquilia a clearer view of her. She lifted her chin. Had she expected her son’s habits to change while he was away? Obviously they had not. He cleared his throat. “Mother, this is Jason’s widow, Abigail, and their son Benjamin.”
Not what she assumed, but no better. Aquilia did not return Abigail’s smile, and she did not reach out to make any greeting. She just shifted her words to Latin. “This is the Hebrew slave that ruined your friend? Why did you bring her here?”
Titus glanced at the girl, though her face revealed no emotion. “She needed to come to claim the estates for her son. I told her she could stay here until the matter is settled.”
Her mouth fell open. “Have you lost your senses, Titus? Are there not enough women in my house for you and your father to entertain yourselves with? Must you bring in another to tempt him into shame?”
Titus’s face turned instantly into the granite creation Aquilia saw more often than not. “She is Jason’s widow, Mother.”
Aquilia sliced a hand through the air. “She is a slave. And while your father respected your friend, you know well he will not consider a claim on such a creature now that he is dead!”
Her son rolled back his shoulders into the fighting stance she knew all too well. “Mother–”
“If my presence here is going to cause problems, I will simply stay elsewhere.” The words startled Aquilia not just because the girl dared to interject herself into the conversation, but because she did so in Latin. She even smiled. “I am certain there is either an inn nearby, or the steward of the Visibullis estates would consent to me staying there.”
“No.” Titus folded his arms across his chest. “You will not stay in a public house with no guard, nor will you throw yourself on your servant’s mercy. We will claim Benjamin’s inheritance through the legal channels, and when you go to his estates, it will be as mistress, not beggar.”
The girl looked at him with amusement. Amusment! In the face of her son’s determination? Had Aquilia not seen the stone of his countenance, she would have though he had softened while in Israel. Perhaps this slave was just too stupid to know when not to argue.
“Titus, I will not allow you to be generous at the cost of your home’s peace.”
His eyes gained an ironic glint. “There is no peace in this home, and there never was. You will cause no more trouble than would find us anyway. My father may be lecherous, but he is not the worst of the men I know. You would not be safe in the city unescorted.”
“She will not be safe here, either.” Aquilia threw her shoulders back. Her son respected the woman, it was clear. Which meant that unless she wanted to antagonize him his first hour home, she had better aid his efforts to protect her. “Not as an independent woman. You must let your father think she is yours, Titus, it is the only option.”
Titus did not look shocked by the suggestion, but he did not look convinced by it either. “She is Jason’s widow.”
Aquilia sighed. “And since when does that affect your desires? Was not Aria Flavius’s betrothed? Was not Cornelia Lusius’s sister?”
Titus said nothing, just clenched his jaw.
Aquilia lifted a brow. “If she stays here it will be as your protectorate. She can stay in the procoeton attached to your chamber.”
“The only way out of that room is through mine,” Titus objected.
Aquilia rolled her eyes. “Precisely. It is the only way in, as well.”
He considered for a moment. Sighed. Nodded. “Let it be as you suggest, Mother.”
Aquilia inclined her head, then looked at Abigail once more. “Whatever is she wearing?”
Titus and Abigail both looked at her garment with surpise on their faces. It must have been traditional Hebrew apparel, but it would not do here.
Her son cleared his throat. “Jason bought you some things after the Roman fashion, did he not?”
The girl nodded. “Shall I change?”
“Please.” Aquilia made no attempt to hide her distaste.
The girl once again proved she had no sense by smiling. She put a hand behind her back. “Come, Samuel. Titus will show us to our chamber.”
Aquilia drew in a sharp breath when a boy emerged from behind her. He was a lovely child, all golden curls and large eyes filled with trepidation. As for what he was doing here . . .
“Titus, tell me you have not gained a taste for boys.”