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“I will travel with him, write his ledgers and letters. You see, he has a palsy, and cannot hold a stylus. He lost his scribe to illness. He wants a Briton because I know the land and can speak both tongues, as you do. See, am I not looking well and dressed in fine clothes?’
r /> He performed a spin on the spot. She had to admire his white tunic and the bronze buckle of his belt. He’d changed from boy to man, lost his bandy legs and spots, and filled out his chest with muscles. Ceadda might be short in stature, but he’d never been feeble or dim-witted.
She examined the building behind him, recently renovated with columns supporting the porch. She heard young children laughing; the sounds of a happy family. Ceadda’s prospects were likely to be good. “You think your future is here?”
He nodded. “One day I shall be free. I shall marry. I shall have my own money. But I can only do this if I have the education of a Roman. I’m not a fighter, not like Da.”
She laughed. “No, probably not, but you are brave.”
Felix emerged from the shadows of the house. Walking alongside him was a man leaning on a stick. Varius was younger than Bethan anticipated and although crippled, he had a straight nose and piercing eyes.
She bowed.
“So this is Ceadda’s sister?” Varius said. He’d a strong voice too. “The young man feared you were dead.”
“Has Ceadda explained his wishes, Bethan?” asked Felix.
Rufus came out into the sunlight and took her hand. “He seems happy here.”
“I’m glad to find him alive and well.” More than glad, she was relieved. If Ceadda returned with them, what would he think of her relationship with two gladiators? Best he didn’t know.
Varius replenished their food supplies and she was pretty sure he’d bought a few pieces of silverware. Felix turned down an offer of a room for the night. He was keen to be home.
Bethan hugged her brother and promised to visit—with Felix’s permission.
Felix’s keenness to return home meant travelling long into the twilight hours, then rising at dawn to continue. The three of them had little sleep. They arrived at the farm just before dusk.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Look!” Rufus pointed at the fields. Each one was a golden yellow. The wheat stood tall and swaying in the breeze. The slaves and overseer congregated by the entrance to the house, ready to greet them. Felix immediately congratulated them on their hard work and off loaded the amphora of wine he’d bought in Lagentium.
“Go drink and celebrate the forthcoming harvest,” he said.
Bethan hurriedly told Awen the good news about her brother as they unpacked the wagon.
“How was it with the overseer?” Bethan asked.
“We’re pleased our master is back,” Awen replied, winking.
Felix intercepted Bethan as she walked to her little room. “No. Go bathe, then come to my room.”
“Not by the altar?” It had been a while since he honoured the goddesses.
“No. Rufus and I wish to discuss your future.” He cocked his head to one side. “Don’t worry.” He kissed her cheek. Felix’s displays of affection were infrequent, unlike Rufus, who liked to kiss and pet her without regard to etiquette.
“I’m not worried if you are taking care of me.” She wished she meant it with the whole of her heart. But as she had no real freedom, what else could her future involve if it didn’t mean trusting Felix.
She bathed and enjoyed a moment of privacy. After so much time in the back of a cramped wagon, she relished the space. Changing into fresh clothing, she prepared herself, combing her hair and braiding the ends. She chose the knee-length tunic to wear.
The men were waiting for her in Felix’s room. She only went in there to sweep the floors since she either slept in her own or Rufus’s room. Rufus was leaning against the wall, his red hair and trimmed beard catching the brightest spot of the oil lamp. Felix was pacing. He’d shaved and the outline of his strong jawline had emerged once again. Wearing a simple tunic with no other apparel, he had in choosing the clothing bared his arms and lower legs. He remained a magnificent figure even when in a state of agitation.
Bethan wasn’t sure how to proceed; to bow or kneel? Felix stopped his restless strides in front of her and cupped his hands around her face.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” She stared into his dark eyes and waited. This wasn’t what he truly wanted to say to her.
He dropped his hands and held hers. “On our travels, I’ve had much time to think. When we found your brother, I expected he would leap at the idea of coming here, but he didn’t. The man, Varius, who is descended from a long line of Roman scholars and merchants, can offer him far more than I can.”
