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“My love is different. If she were free, I would marry her.” He ducked his head down, wondering if Felix would think he was losing his mind.
Felix rose to his feet. “I see,” he said slowly.
Rufus gave another shrug. “But, she loves her master.”
“You would marry her,” Felix repeated. “You’re a good man, Rufus. It is a commendable that you should wish to keep her safe by your side. But, she is precious to both of us. We share her love as equals and I think she craves that from us.”
Rufus looked up. “Then what will happen if she does not submit to us after tonight, if she prefers one of us more than the other?”
Felix folded his arms and stood over his slave girl. “I don’t think you should worry, Rufus. Look at her. She sleeps in a state of bliss—her lips are still glossy from our kisses, her nipples hard and her neck glows with passion. She dreams of us fucking her, I’m sure of it.”
“Then, you will continue to bed her—”
“We both shall. Nothing has changed just because our hearts are trying to rule. As for her freedom… I prefer to think of myself as her protector, not master.”
Rufus opened his mouth, then shut it. But did she? What exactly would she think of them if they never freed her?
“I’ll keep her warm for a while,” Felix murmured. “Then you can. Rest yourself.” Felix nestled his body around Bethan and she merely muttered before returning to a deep sleep.
Rufus stretched out on the cot, too tired to think any longer. In the morning, they would continue their travels and he would ponder on Felix’s words. He felt neither discouraged nor jealous by the news that Felix loved his girl. She was a remarkable young woman and Rufus should not be surprised she’d won both of their hearts.
In the early morning light, he woke to find she was no longer in bed. He’d moved to join her at some point, but remembered little of when or how he’d accomplished the switch. Instead, she sat by the window and was repairing her stola with a needle and thread. He watched, unobserved by her, as she worked quickly. She was a fine seamstress, as well as a beautiful lover.
As for Felix, he was absent—probably gone to find some foo
d. He would be keen to start their journey. Rufus sat up and opened his mouth to speak to Bethan and tell her about his plan to marry her. But, as she turned to smile at him, the words failed. First, she needed to be free and that decision lay in Felix’s hand. What Felix needed to do was to let go of his Roman dreams and accept that fact he was a Briton. Whether he could or would wasn’t something that Rufus could greatly influence; Felix would always be the master of his own decisions.
Chapter Twenty-Three
They were going home via the villa of Varius, which was a minor excursion from the main road. However, the overall journey would still take them a few days. Each hour burdened Bethan with worry. Was Ceadda safe? What kind of master was Varius and would he sell Ceadda to Felix? Amongst the anxiety was excitement: she was going to see her brother.
The journey was made more remarkable by the transformation in the two men, especially Felix. He’d ceased calling her slave, and hadn’t used the term since the morning after her punishment. Both men treated her with greater equality and although in control of everything, instead of ordering her about, they requested as they would do each other. There was no more head bowing or averting her eyes.
It wasn’t just their attitude toward her. They showed her affection in new ways. It might take the form a caress of a hand down her face or along the contours of her body, sometimes a passionate kiss or embrace. Those little acts of intimacy came unprompted and frequently. However, Felix reminded her obedience was expected and compliance would be praised.
Her impatience to be with Ceadda put her to the test. When she criticised Felix for taking another rest stop, he raised his eyebrows and gave her the withering look of an unhappy man.
“The horses need watering and grazing. You will sit in the wagon and curb your tongue, young lady.” She scuttled inside. There was something about the way he said ‘young lady’ that had an immediate impact on her awakening sex. Whether she really wanted his hand smacking her bare arse, the idea of it was curtailed by a different matter: she dared not risk irking him when her brother’s future hung in the balance. She decided it was best not to disappoint him, at least while Ceadda’s circumstances were unknown.
And what about Rufus? How would he expect her to behave now that she was sealed into their hearts? When they resumed the journey, she slipped between the drapes, onto the bench next to Rufus and whispered in his ear.
“I’m troubled.”
He held the reins loosely in his hands. Felix had rode ahead to scout the route. “About what, sweetness?”
“Since you… you two both tumbled with me… and I look forward to it happening again soon…” Her cheeks must be bright red; Rufus was grinning.
“We enjoyed it too.” He snapped the whip over the horse’s ears and she jumped. The sound reminded her of the purpose of the conversation.
“I love you both…”
Rufus’s smile broadened. “We know and we do too, each in our way.”
“I suppose that is the source of my… troubles.” She fiddled with the loose threads of her shawl. “Felix is your friend, and will always be my master, whether I am a slave or not. He will keep a firm hold on me and if I should stray, he would surely take me over his knee.”
“He would,” Rufus agreed.
“I’m not perfect. I would try to honour his wishes, but I think it is a certainty I will be spanked. Punished.” She winced just saying the word. “I want you to know that I won’t seek to be punished just so that I might…” She couldn’t say it.
