Caelia clutched the door until her knuckles were white, resentment burning in her chest as her mistress strode away. She wanted to slam the door closed, but she could not. She wanted to claw Aquilia’s eyes out, but she could not. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to destroy that Hebrew witch, but she could not. Not yet, anyway. She would not disobey her mistress’s command, because she knew for a fact her threat was a meaningful one.
But there would be another opportunity, sooner or later, to get her revenge. And until it presented itself, she would simply be patient.
Ever so quietly, she closed the door.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Titus knew relief. It had never occurred to him that his mother would prove the answer to his prayers about his father, but he whispered his gratitude to God. He only wished he had found the time to discuss it with Abigail the day before, so she could have allayed his fears earlier. Some guests had come over the previous evening, ones who he could not in good conscience ignore. He invited her down, but she had declined. He had not minded, though he had missed spending time with her. By the time he had retired, she had been asleep, so it was not until the following morning that she managed to tell him about her conversation with his mother.
“You were once again right, beloved.” He hugged her tightly. “We had only to pray, and we received an answer. I never should have doubted.”
She smiled up at him. “We all doubt. It is getting past it that is important.”
He returned her smile then, unable to resist, leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
“How was your evening?” She posed the question guilelessly, but Titus still had to narrow his eyes. The family that had joined them for dinner had been an upstanding one, one whose daughter was just of age to be wed. It had not been a whim on his parents’ part to invite them over with their children, and Titus had been fully aware that both sets of parents were considering whether or not he and the girl would be a good match. He suspected that her brothers would not like the idea; he had been friends with both of the eldest, which meant that they knew his reputation.
“What?” Abigail prodded when he did not answer.
Titus blinked away his thoughts. “It was a matchmaking venture. One would think they could at least wait until you left before they started this nonsense.”
Abigail sighed. “That reminds me. Your mother advises that you be more careful about how you look at me in front of your father. She says it is all too obvious that we are in love.”
Titus gaped. “My mother said that?”
Abigail nodded placidly, absently smoothing down his toga. “I will never get used to seeing you in all this cloth, Titus. I still expect you to be in your uniform every time I see you.”
Titus chuckled and tugged gently on her corresponding stola. “And every time I see you, I expect you to be in. . . that delectable blue thing.”
Abigail laughed and dug her fingers into his side, though she only got one good tickle in before he pinned her hands behind her back and pulled her against him. He proceeded to kiss her soundly.
“There. That will teach you.”
Abigail laughed again. “Oh yes. I have learned my lesson well. If I want you to give me an exceptionally good kiss, I should tickle you.”
He kissed her again just to make sure the instruction stuck, then stepped away, holding onto one of her hands as he did so. “Are we ready?” He propelled them toward the door as he asked. They had been planning this outing for a week and half, and he was looking forward to showing her around his city.
“We are ready. Antonia has the children, Phillip is outside the door, ready to take up residence in my shadow, I watched you grab some money, and I can think of nothing else.”
“Marvelous.” He pulled her through his door, where Phillip was waiting to fall in behind them, and out the front. He tossed a smile her way. “How is it that we have yet to go out together, except that one time to the villa?”
She smiled back. “You are out with your father every day, and when I have gone out, it has been with Antonia. I suppose when you have a day with nothing pressing to do, you take the opportunity to stay home.”
“True.” Though he had never done so before, he had to admit. He had run into a few of his old friends, and they had seemed a bit offended by his preoccupation. It reminded him rather forcefully of his own response to Jason when he had acted in this very way.
Abigail must have read his thoughts. “I seem to have that effect on people.”