It was all the encouragement Cornelius needed to continue. “Tell me, how was my old friend these past years? I had heard, of course, that he married a local woman, and naturally I met Jason when he was in Rome, but the details have been few.”
Figuring her family was something she could speak of easily enough, Abigail settled in and relaxed in reminiscence.
*
Titus laughed at whatever it was the man beside him had just said, but his eyes moved around the room in search of Abigail. She had sat with Cornelius for almost an hour in conversation, eating little and drinking less. When Cornelius had finally left, Marcus’s wife had moved to the seat beside Abigail and struck up another conversation. He had watched Abigail’s body language to try to divine the nature of the talk, but it was apparently friendly enough, for she had laughed sincerely without tensing. He was glad she was getting on so well, but still, he wanted to maneuver himself to her side as soon as possible.
“Titus!”
Titus turned with a smile at the familiar voice, unable to help laughing when one of his oldest friends barreled toward him. “Lucius.” He steeled himself for the enthusiastic embrace that Lucius did not withhold. “You are back from Ephesus.”
Lucius looked down at himself as though amazed to see that truth. “So I am. And you from Israel. When we got the news that the Asiniuses were hosting a party tonight, I told father we simply had to come. We are late, I know, but it seems it does not matter.” He looked around at all the people milling about, smiled again. “My sister asks after you.”
Titus rolled his eyes. “How is she enjoying married life?”
Lucius’s amusement was wry. “She is not. She finds her husband a bore, which is not unexpected when one marries a man as old as one’s grandfather. But when one is convinced that only a man in his dotage will forgive one’s lack of innocence . . .”
Titus fended off the old accusation with a raised hand. “It was years ago, my friend, and your sister did not seem so concerned about her ‘innocence’ at the time.”
“I shall take your word for it.” Lucius did not seem overly concerned as he scanned the room. When his gaze halted on Abigail, his brows flew up. “Delicious. Who is she?”
“Abigail Visibullis.” He expected jealousy to surge, but instead it was pride that filled him. “You remember Jason? Abigail is his widow. I brought her here from Israel so that she could claim Jason’s inheritance for their son.”
Lucius grinned. “Yes, I am sure that was your only reason. I had, of course, heard that Jason married a Jewess. Was she not a slave?”
“It depends on your definition of the term. Jason’s parents raised her as their daughter, educated her, clothed her as a gentlewoman. Jason, obviously, did not feel inclined to regard her as a sister, though.”
Lucius sniggered. “I should think not.”
Their continued gazes in her direction brought Abigail’s eyes up, and when she saw Titus, she flashed him a smile.
Lucius shook his head. “I did not realize they were hiding such beauty out there in barbary.”
Titus breathed a laugh. “Call her a barbarian when she can hear you, and you shall find yourself the recipient of a nicely delivered lecture on civilization through the ages of the Greeks versus the unbroken chain of law of her own people. If you are lucky, she will throw in a few musically rendered lines of Homer, and then compare them to Virgil’s attempt at modeling it.”
Lucius laughed. “Come, friend, you must introduce me to this paradigm of charm.” He started in her direction, leaving Titus little choice but to follow. As if foreseeing their lack of need of her, Marcus’s wife stood and moved away, exchanging a few words of greeting with the two younger men as she passed them.
The couch was not designed to hold three of them, but Lucius did not seem too concerned about that. He merely sat on one side of Abigail as Titus claimed the other, exclaiming merrily, “Titus tells me you can sing the Greek poets.”
Abigail glanced at Lucius, then looked with curiosity at Titus. He had pulled her closer to his side to keep as much space between her and Lucius as possible and then left his arm around her waist protectively. “Strange, I do not think Titus has ever heard me sing the Greek poets.”
Titus smiled at her and accepted a glass of wine from one of the slaves. “Perhaps it is just that I have heard you speak of the poets, and your voice is always a song.” When his friend laughed, Titus took a sip of his wine. “You would have loved to hear her the first time Jason invited us to his home, Lucius. She chastised us as lawless pagans, subtly rebuked us for staring at her, and proceeded to teach us about our own religious figures so that we were truly ashamed at having not realized ourselves the things she pointed out.”