“She is worse today.”
Phillip could not argue with Miriam’s whispered observation. For the past two weeks, Abigail had been withdrawn. It was understandable. Her fall from Titus’s favor had given the rest of the house a reason to snub her, so even appearing at meals was impossible. Miriam had to fetch all of her food from the kitchen and bring it to her so that she would not have to face Aquilia or Caius or Titus. The one time she had gone out, none of them had looked at her, and the servants had actually avoided her, too, as though she were not even there. It had been debasing, and Miriam had held Abigail as she wept afterward. She had not repeated that torture since. The next day she had attempted to send a missive to Arminius to try to make arrangements to move out to the villa for her remaining time in Rome, but that had proven an even greater trial for her; Titus had intercepted the message and proceeded to corner her and rail at her stupidity and lack of concern for Jason’s child’s life.
Phillip had seen her flinch when he called Benjamin simply “Jason’s child.” It was what Caius always referred to him as, as though her part in his creation was null. She had retorted with a claim that if he was so concerned, he should volunteer to send an appropriate entourage with her for their protection, but Titus had gotten that cold smile on his face. He had said that she had already gotten more than enough from him.
That night, Abigail had taken off the amethyst necklace she had been wearing under her tunic and had Miriam slip into Titus’s room when no one was there and leave it. Titus had not so much as appeared in the same room as her since. That had been a week and a half ago. Abigail had tried to be strong after that, and probably would have done fairly well had it not been for Samuel. Titus had started out still seeing the boy daily, laughing and playing and hearing of his day. But in the past week, those visits had tapered off as Titus spent more and more time away from the house. Samuel had started to sulk, and nothing Abigail could do raised his spirits.
“Do you think it is because of Samuel?” Phillip asked just as quietly, wishing his mistress did not look so broken inside today. She sat with her shoulders hunched forward, as though too tired to straighten them, and her head was bowed. The silent movement of her lips told him she was praying. She had been doing a lot of that lately. He could not see that it did much good, but the one time he had made that observation, Abigail had gotten a strange smile on her face and told him he had no idea how bad it would be otherwise.
Miriam shrugged. “I do not think it is only that, but who is to tell? There is much burdening her spirits. Titus, the children, concern for her mother. Who is to tell if this is something new or just the rest weighing heavily?”
Phillip’s jaw clenched. “You have no idea how much I would like to break the nose of that–”
“Hush.” But Miriam smiled. “If she hears you, she will scold.”
They watched her for another minute in silence before the maid sighed. “Perhaps it is Caius. He has been lurking about when he has no cause to, just looking at her. Perhaps she is concerned he will try something, now that Titus does not seem to care.”
Phillip tilted his head in thought. “I daresay Titus would care quite a bit if his father touched her. He may be angry, but he is not indifferent. Though you may be right about the concern that could cause Abigail.”
Miriam nodded, but then her face grew worried as she glanced through the open door into the house. “Titus is coming.”
Phillip did not need to turn to follow her gaze to feel the approaching presence of an angry man. Moreover, he did not waste time with looks, he simply moved stealthily forward so that Titus could not barrel past him and lay hold of Abigail. He did not actually draw close to his mistress, since she liked to maintain the feel of independence, but he was near enough to be able to leap to her aid if necessary.
It was not necessary. Upon reaching the door, Titus came to a sudden halt, scanned the immediate vicinity, and headed for Phillip, not Abigail. When he was beside him, he pitched his voice down so that the mistress would not even hear him.
“Be wary tonight, Phillip,” he warned with sparking eyes. “My father has already begun drinking, and it is Abigail’s name that falls off his tongue. Do not trouble her with this in case it is nothing, but bar the door after she falls asleep, and keep careful watch.”
Phillip nodded firmly, pressed his lips together.
Titus looked over at Abigail, shoulders still bent, head still down, lips still moving. “She looks terrible. Has she been eating?”
“As much as we can make her.” Miriam stepped up beside Phillip. “If you wish to ease some of the shadow from her eyes, try spending some time with Samuel today.”