“Father.” Titus’s tone reflected no surprise. His fingers did not release Abigail’s. “I thought we had agreed years ago that you would announce yourself before entering my chamber.”
Caius let his eyes sweep over their joined hands to make it known he did not like seeing such warmth, then leveled a hard gaze on Abigail that had just enough raw desire in it to terrify her, he figured. “I would like to talk to my son alone.”
“In the face of such a gentle request, I know not what you can do, Abigail, but graciously acquiesce.” He turned his gaze on her, and it softened. “I will let you know when he has said his fill and it is safe for you to return.”
Abigail dared to smile, even squeezed his fingers before getting up and moving quietly into the procoeton.
“What is it?” Titus asked with a sigh, not bothering to stand.
Caius pointed at where Abigail had gone. “That whore is going to destroy you as she did Jason if you are not careful. I have seen the way you looked at her this evening, and I will not have it, Titus. If you wish to take her to your bed, fine, but you will not take her into your heart, and she will not step foot in the house again once she leaves for Israel. Have I made myself clear?”
Titus did not reply for a long moment, his gaze riveted on Caius’s face. “Abigail is my friend’s widow, and you will treat her with respect. And for the record, Jason was not destroyed by her; he was happier as her husband than I have ever seen him. Though I hardly expect to be graced by the same favor, I would count myself blessed if I ended up with a morsel of his happiness in my own life, be it from the hand of Abigail or anyone else. But as for returning, I can promise you I will not argue on that count. Because I do care for her, and I will not subject her to this disrespect any more than necessary. She is my friend, Father; we have shared a common grief and found from it a common joy. And if that distresses you, then it is your problem to deal with and not mine.”
Caius opened his mouth to rebut, but got nothing out before his son continued.
“And Father?” The smile Caius was more familiar with returned to his countenance, the one that combined menace with power. “I saw the way you looked at her this evening, too, and I will not stand for that. It drives you to madness to see someone so beautiful, conversing intelligently, looking at you with disdain. You want her, but you will not have her. If a whore, she is my whore. Have I made myself clear?”
Most of the rage abated, but the concession tasted no more pleasing. “I have no need to steal a woman from my son’s bed.” He made a point of looking at the bed, neat and still made up from that morning. “It is all women are good for, we both know that, and there are plenty to choose from. What I find curious, Titus, is that you have been so deferential to her emotions in the days that she has been here. I am not so convinced you are satisfying her body.” He gave a wicked little smile and turned to the door. “And I cannot have unsatisfied women in my house.”
*
Titus’s hand had clenched into a fist that he carefully uncoiled as his father left the room. He must get a rein on his anger, dismiss that part which came from the dent in his pride. Focus on the offense he took on Abigail’s behalf, even at the opinion on women in general. Just not on the insinuation that he could not please a woman. It would do no good to get upset about something when it would lead his mind down dangerous paths.
He did not hear Abigail reenter, only noticed her when she took her seat again and covered his tensed fingers with a small hand. “I did not intend to eavesdrop, Titus, but hearing myself called a whore made me freeze where I was.” There was a smile in her voice, and it lured his gaze from the door to her face. “My friend, I appreciate your defense, and I even thank you for claiming me as your own. I will do my part and seem as satisfied as is humanly possible.”
That won a grin from Titus, though he tried to hold it down. “I do not wish to shame you like this, Abigail. You are a woman of virtue, and I hate to besmirch your name, even in my own house. Especially in my own house.”
Abigail tilted her head. “When in Egypt, Abram told Pharaoh that Sarai was his sister instead of his wife, in order to save his life and her virtue. I do not see why you claiming your friend as your lover to do the same is any different. I am not shamed, Titus. I am protected, and I thank you. I think the important thing here is you. I do not wish to make your father your enemy.”
Titus sighed, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I fear that was done long before you entered my life, dear one. We have never gotten along, and I know not how it could change.”