Ester followed her hostess outside into the well-appointed courtyard, happy to escape the talk of politics that the men had turned to. She knew her husband was enjoying the chance to socialize with others more recently from Rome–after twenty years in Israel, and ten in Gaul before that, Cleopas undoubtedly missed the customs of his home. But he had chosen to let her run their house in the Hebrew tradition, which meant that his were still largely unfamiliar to her.
Several moments throughout the night, she had felt the difference of her world and his. In things as small as the stola Julia wore over her tunic to the vast difference in their outlooks.
Ester settled onto a stone bench, softened with colorful cushions that a servant undoubtedly took inside every night, and motioned for Abigail to take up her position behind her. She would have liked to urge the girl onto the pillow at her side–would have, had they been home–but refrained. Julia would not approve, and Abigail would feel it.
Julia’s maidservant had also followed them out, but the hostess waved her away with an abrupt flick of her wrist. The girl, probably twice Abigail’s age, slunk back inside. Julia sighed. “That girl is such a nuisance. I brought her with me from Rome, but she has done nothing but mope since we arrived. I begin to think she had a lover there she did not tell me about.”
Ester hummed but made no other reply. Perhaps she ought to comment on the lovely jeweled collar Julia wore. Anything to turn the conversation from the servant’s personal life.
Julia’s eyes turned to Abigail. “How long have you had your girl?”
“Abigail has been with me for a year.” Hopefully her soft smile would prove she was more than just a girl to her.
“Only that long? She is very well trained. From whom did you purchase her?”
Ester shifted, turned slightly so that Abigail would not feel like a shadow behind her. “The poor dear was orphaned, and her guardians could not keep her. Thankfully, Cleopas heard of it and brought her home to me. I have been very blessed to have her.”
“She is a pretty child. I have always thought that important–who wants to look at a homely creature every day? So long as they do not think themselves above their stations because of their looks.” She narrowed her gaze on Abigail. “Do you dress her so well to entertain yourself, or is she already showing signs of arrogance?”
Ester felt her spine go rigid. “It is Hebrew tradition to treat fellow Israelites with compassion. Especially orphaned children, even if they are slaves. Moses says they are in their position only because of an unfortunate turn, not because they are worth any less than the rest of us.”
Julia’s face reflected apology and youth. Ester was reminded of the decade she had on her hostess, of the relatively new marriage to the general. “I am sorry,” her hostess said, voice soft. “The custom in Rome is quite different, and I am not very familiar with the ways of the Jews. I pray you will be patient with me and help me learn the customs of your people. I will need the education, if I am to survive here for any length of time.”
Ester relaxed again. “I will be glad to help. And perhaps you can teach me more of the ways of Rome. Cleopas and I have not had the opportunity to return to his home.”
She was rewarded by Julia’s bright, young smile. “I would be honored. Thank you.”
Ester let a relieved breath ease slowly from her lungs. Finally, after twenty years of marriage, she had made a Roman friend.
Chapter Three
Cleopas noticed the shift in his men before he heard the tickle of a familiar female voice. Their language changed from curses to pleasant observations, their shoulders edged back, their chins went up. He had no need to look over his shoulder to realize that Abigail had stopped by. The greeting of Vetimus, one of his centurions, merely confirmed it.
“Abigail, good morning. Market day, is it?”
Her laughter rang out, incongruous with the clang of swords and armor if familiar to it. “As you well know. Though Michael once again tried to charge me too much for the oranges.”
“Because you steal the man’s livelihood every time you haggle him down. But more importantly, have you any of Dinah’s famous honey cakes in the basket?”
Again, her laughter filled the halls. “Not today, but I have been instructed to invite you and your family to dinner at your earliest convenience.”
“Name the day, and we shall be there.”
“Tomorrow.”
“We shall see you then. And if it is Andrew you search for, you shall find him at the entryway to the field.”
“Thank you.”