Soon enough, it would not be so flat. Everyone would be able to look at her and know. The vendors in the marketplace, the townspeople, Elizabeth and the rest of the general’s household. Some would look at her with a smile, others with pity, still others with derision, depending on how much they knew about her.
By the time she called up enough energy to make it back inside, Dinah was up and stirring the fire in the kitchen. When Abigail came in, probably not looking much better than she felt, the woman put aside her tasks and enveloped her in her matronly arms instead.
“It will be all right.” Dinah rubbed her capable hands over Abigail’s back. “I know you are not happy right now, but trust me, child, it is good for you to have a babe of your own. Jason will welcome a son and care for you because of it. And if he does not, then Andrew will. Either way, a baby is a blessing.”
Because it was one Dinah had been denied, Abigail would not allow herself to disagree. Instead, she smiled blearily and pulled away to help her with the morning’s work. Jason returned when she was elbow high in bread dough, so he just placed a dutiful kiss on her cheek and informed her that he would see to his own cleansing and join his parents for breakfast. She could only nod.
She had cleaned herself up in time to assist Ester in dressing, then plodded through breakfast. The minute Jason finished his meal, he stood and took Abigail’s hand. “You look exhausted.”
Her eyes sought the ground. “I did not sleep well.”
“Did you try to stay in your own room?”
“Yes, Lord.”
He gave her a fondly irritated look and shook his head. “Do not attempt it again, sweet one. You need better rest than your pallet will grant you. Come. We shall sleep.”
He led her from the room.
*
Titus drummed his fingers on his knee as he sat waiting not so patiently for Jason to come. They had agreed to meet half an hour ago, and Titus was not a patient man. Especially since he knew very well what would be keeping his friend at home: a lovely set of curves and large brown eyes. He grunted and shook the thought from his head. There would come a day soon enough when he would go home, and then he, too, would have women at his disposal every hour of the day. More of them than Jason had.
In fact, he had just received word from his father. It was this news that made him anxious for Jason to arrive; he needed to tell someone, and no one else would want to hear it. Actually, Jason may not, either, but he was friend enough to listen anyway, and reliant enough on the graces of the Asiniuses not to grumble too loudly. A knowing smile pulled at Titus’s lips. Six more months in this wretched place, and he would be back in Rome, running his father’s companies for him. He was not sure how Caius had arranged it, but he would not complain. He may not like being under his father’s rule, but it was better than the military. Similarly, he may resent that one of his best friends was that largely for political reasons, but he would not complain; it was nice to have some pull over the self-confident Jason Visibullis.
He finally saw him approaching and stood, prepared to offer some snide comment about his lack of punctuality. It died on his lips, however, when he saw the look in Jason’s eyes. Titus drew in a deep breath. Why was it that he was always the one around when Jason was troubled? He was getting tired of dealing with his friend’s petty concerns. They were always about the girl, anyway, and Jason was never sensible enough to take good advice and not give her so much of his attentions.
“Jason,” he merely said in greeting.
“Titus.” Jason managed to put irritation into the word. “I am sorry I am late. My mother insisted I dine with her before leaving.”
They fell in together and headed for the markets.
He would not ask. He did not want to know. But the silence stretched all the way into uncomfortable and left him little choice. “So how is your Venus faring?”
Jason speared him with a scalding look. “She is pregnant.”
Titus made no response for a moment. He knew not which to make. He was certainly not surprised by the news; these things had a tendency to happen when one frequently engaged in activities of a certain nature. It was Jason’s tone that baffled him. When he did speak again, he made sure his own accent was neutral. “Is this a bad thing?”
“She seems to think so,” Jason returned testily. Then he spewed a few choice expletives that made Titus grin. “What is wrong with her? I do not pretend to understand the workings of a woman’s mind. They are impossible, incomprehensible, utterly forsaken of all reason–”
“Are you just figuring this out?”