He spurred the horse on again and even urged it into a canter to get him there a bit faster, promising the beast a rest and food and water once he delivered him to the villa. Apparently the dust he kicked up was spotted a good ways off, for as soon as he came to a halt in front of the house, there were servants there to take the reins from him and offer him water. He drank.
“May I assist you, friend?” A man strode up. He was tall, muscled, older than Menelaus but looking far more energetic.
Menelaus drew in a long, cautious breath. “I am looking for Titus and Abigail Asinius. I am. . . an old friend. Menelaus Casicus.”
The man smiled as if he recognized the name. It was possible, Menelaus granted, but not likely. They had no reason to speak of him to their servants.
“Of course. I will take you to my master. Mistress is tending the children, but I will inform her you are here. I am their steward, Jacob, and I am at your disposal.”
Menelaus nodded as his eyes took in everything around him on the walk into the house. It looked to be prosperous, that was beyond doubt, but it did little to ease his mind.
Titus should not be enjoying Jason’s prosperity.
The master came through the atrium as they entered it, and his face lit with immediate recognition. He smiled, and Menelaus frowned. He could not ever recall seeing Titus smile like that, but the lines it formed around his mouth proved he did it often.
“Menelaus!” Titus laughed, hurrying the last few steps to clasp his wrist and clap a hand to his other shoulder. “My friend, it is so good to see you! We have prayed for you regularly.” He turned with bright eyes to the steward. “Did I not tell you I felt that the Lord would bring him here soon, Jacob?”
The steward smiled. “You did, Titus, and I never doubted. Shall I go tell Abigail?”
“Please. But on your way, you had better stop to see your daughter and her little one. He is standing.”
With a proud grin, Jacob departed. Titus turned back to Menelaus with a more sober expression. “I have kept myself informed of your whereabouts. Lentulus and Apidius have come to visit whenever they could, but you I have not seen since Jerusalem. You have been on my mind much recently, my friend, and I felt deep within me that you have some contentions to settle with me.”
Menelaus scowled. “You have felt that, have you?”
Unperturbed, Titus nodded, his dark eyes studying him. “We can talk now, or you can rest first. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”
Menelaus’s brows drew together. “You are very generous with what is not yours.”
Titus actually smiled. “You would like to talk now, then. Very well. Allow me to assure you that I have touched nothing of Jason’s estate except to improve it, and it is all Benjamin’s. I live off my own revenue, as do Abigail and the children. When Benjamin comes of age, he will come into his wealth and find it more than what it was when he was born.”
Menelaus breathed a humorless laugh. “You always had to be superior, did you not, Titus? But when Jason had something better, you simply took it.”
A light of sadness entered Titus’s eyes at the accusation. “I took nothing, Menelaus.”
“You married his wife and raised his son and moved to his villa. You support his mother and harbor his people.”
Titus spread his hands, palms flat. “And I am wrong for this? For taking care of his family as he asked me to do? For increasing what he left for his son, for protecting those he had come to identify with before his death?” He shook his head. “You are angry for many reasons, my friend, but that one is not valid.”
Menelaus was too irritated to think of a proper retort. And he was distracted by the boisterous shouts of young boys that drew ever closer. In curiosity he watched as a pack of them burst into the room, the tallest screeching to a halt in a way that was vaguely familiar.
Titus, too, had turned to see the boys come in, and he smiled. “Perfect timing, my sons. We have a guest. This is Menelaus.”
“I remember you,” the tallest and obviously oldest spoke up. Menelaus saw the burnished hair falling in curls, the almost too-perfect features, and felt a whisper of recognition that he could not place. The young man grinned and elbowed the younger boy beside him. “He served with our fathers in Jerusalem. He was your father’s best friend, and he came to see Mother and Grandmother after the uprising.”
The younger boy’s eyes widened as Menelaus’s narrowed. “You knew my father?”
Menelaus knew a moment of begrudging respect. Apparently he had been wrong to assume that Titus had erased all knowledge of Jason from his son’s mind. “Benjamin?”
The boy nodded vigorously. He must be, what, ten now? Menelaus suddenly saw Jason in his smile, carefree and confident. He stepped forward and reached out to clasp hands as a man would have, and Menelaus found himself smiling in return. “You look like your father.”
Benjamin smiled again. “I know. Mother and Grandmother tell me that all the time. I look like Grandfather, too.”
“Yes, you do. You would make them proud.”