Abigail had never felt such utter appal. She gazed for several long, deathly silent moments at this creature she could not quite feel any love for. “Elizabeth, he was your husband.”
“I knew you would lecture me.” Far from looking uncomfortable, she smiled. “And I wonder that you have the gall. I heard that Jason has taken you to his bed. Not quite the virtuous little maid any longer, are you?”
Abigail flushed with heat. “It was not my choice. But even so, I am his now, so I will honor him. You would do well to learn loyalty for yourself.”
“I have.” Elizabeth practically purred with self-satisfaction, it seemed to Abigail, and she could not begin to imagine what caused it. “It is just that my loyalty does not lie with a corpse. I pledge myself only to the living.”
Abigail’s eyes slid shut in dismay. “What have you done, Elizabeth?”
“Followed your example, of course.” Her sweet tone bit like acid. “I gave myself to my master.”
“Elizabeth! When did you do this? When you were married, or after, when you should have been cloistered in mourning?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes again and pushed herself up to pace the close space of her room. “Yesterday, Abigail. I was not still married. And it was not as though I threw myself at him. It just–well, he called me in to offer his condolences, and–you know how quickly it can happen!”
Abigail met her glare cooly. “No. You have shamed yourself, Elizabeth.”
“I have not!” Elizabeth cried. Her breast heaved at the outburst, and she stood there, the sun gleaming in behind her, and looked like a wrathful madwoman. “I at least have the honor of widowhood. What do you have? You will never even be a wife, now.”
Abigail’s spine stiffened. She would be humble with her betters, with her masters, she would never argue with them about her worth. But with this slave, she would not let herself be slandered. “I will. Andrew has already asked for me.”
Elizabeth seethed in exasperation. “Perhaps before he knew how you had been spoiled.”
“And after. He promised to wait for Jason to release me.”
That seemed to deflate Elizabeth. Her shoulders sagged, and she turned her back on Abigail. “Then you have a man who loves you, as well as one who wants you. As always, Abigail, you prove yourself to be followed by good fortune.”
“Good?” Too irritated to sit, Abigail surged to her feet. “I have a man I love whom I cannot marry because of the claims of a man I despise! How is that good?” Immediately regretting her words, she covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut against sudden tears of disapprobation, for herself and her companion. She knew beyond doubt that she should not have said such things in Elizabeth’s presence.
Elizabeth’s hand landed on her shoulder, and it was gentle. She opened her eyes to find her friend’s gaze on her, as soft as her touch, and tears burning there, too.
“I am sorry,” Elizabeth whispered. “I have been jealous of you for so long, Abigail. Your mistress loves you, mine barely tolerates me. Your master has educated you, mine never even noticed me except to realize that I was an attractive option for his favorite slave, and now perhaps for himself. You are more beautiful, you are more loved, and I know there is nothing I can do about either. But I should not have tried to cause you pain.” She pulled Abigail close and held her there fiercely. “I am sorry you were forced into this situation, Abigail. I am sorry I did not want to see how it would hurt you.”
Abigail returned the embrace, and for the first time, she let the tears truly come.
*
Cleopas had not brought up the subject for a month. He knew very well that both his wife and son hoped he had forgotten about the spiritual lessons of the Galilean, and he did not correct them. He had no intention of bringing up the subject before anything could be done about it.
He knew his family did not understand his need. Ester was still afraid to contradict her father’s rhetoric, and her father had scoffed if anyone mentioned the possibility of a messiah, apparently. Well, it was not as though Cleopas was ready to declare the Nazarene the savior of mankind; but that did not mean it was not worthy of investigation. Every story he heard, even the ones so outrageous that logic told him they must be false, pulled on something within him.