It seemed ironic, Julia found, that she and Marius had vowed eternal togetherness, and yet she spent so much of her time alone. His company, however, was not always pleasant, particularly when they retired to bed each night. She could not become accustomed, however much she tried, to the things married couples did together.
The first time, she had found the process fascinating, even enjoyable. Then the bloodstains on her nightdress and a sheer, overwhelming sense of shame had horrified her. Marius, holding her and telling her she was beautiful, extraordinary, his love, made her feel somewhat better. Nevertheless, her reactions never deterred him from continuing to make demands of her.
It all seemed so…untidy. Moreover, she never thought about her husband as she lay in his arms, feigning pleasure and adoration. She thought of the home in the countryside she would never return to. The vivid dreams she had long since stopped experiencing. Even, on occasion, of Quintus.
She had not dreamt of her soldier Maximus, or of the lady, since the last time she had seen Quintus. He was, as well as, the only true friend she had never known, her lost link to all of those things.
The villa was almost palatial – exploring it daily, she found, provided some measure of solace in her loneliness. Respectable wives, she had discovered with some devastation, were allowed even less freedom than unmarried girls. She kept her diary obsessively, and appropriated most of the servants' duties until they were almost being paid for doing nothing.
A horridly short time passed before she realised that her life was purely a routine. She had been waiting for changes that would never arrive. Her beautiful home became nothing more than a splendid prison, and the one person who might rescue her from it did not even know where she was.
Mercifully, as though the Gods had seen her growing misery and sought to relieve it, a friend literally arrived on her doorstep when she had been married two months.
Julia had slept too late, stirring to the feeling of wetness on her cheeks and lips, no doubt the remnants of Marius's parting kisses. She had to credit him with being diligent at his work as a carpenter, rising early and coming home late, though his displays of affection at his departures and returns made her uncomfortable to say the least. This morning, just the knowledge that he had touched her while she lay unconscious and defenceless made her even more sick than usual.
"Madam?" a servant girl trilled, tapping on her door. "There is a visitor to see you, a Mistress Livia by name."
Livia was the wife of a poor merchant, a neighbour of theirs, who disapproved of his lady calling on those even slightly wealthier than they. Her independence and disregard of her spouse's wishes, nay orders, made her notorious all around Rome, though she remained well-loved by everyone. Tales of her good humour and generosity preceded those of her supposed indecency everywhere she went.
Julia dressed swiftly, having instructed the maid to show their guest into the dining chamber, where breakfast had been laid out. A smile frozen on her face, she relished the anticipation she felt at shortly holding audience with the lady. Incredulity gripped her briefly as she remembered her past aversion to female camaraderie, until she realised the reason for her sudden joy: she admired Livia, her passion and sweetness, completely without jealousy. No other woman had impressed her so before – except, of course, the lady in her dreams.
Audaciously, Livia had seated herself at the table without first awaiting her hostess. The sight caused Julia to blush and cover her mouth, stifling a laugh, as she entered the room to join her.
"Darling! How wonderful to meet you properly at last."
Her voice filled the chamber like the ringing of a bell, delighting Julia so much that she failed to notice this second breach of decorum, Livia having addressed her before she had had chance to speak.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Mistress," she began with uncharacteristic timidity, stepping forwards as the other woman rose from her seat, holding out both arms, and hurried faster towards her.
"You look beautiful! Married life must be suiting you very well." Livia placed both hands on either Julia's elbows, and kissed her once on each cheek. Not the slight, cool brushing of lips she had been accustomed to, either – and unrestrained display of genuine affection. She blushed even more, stiffening. Sensing her discomfort, Livia unhanded her, smiling genially all the time.
"You must call me Livia, my dear. Formalities, I have found, are simply not worth the trouble."
Julia laughed, forgetting herself finally. "Will you eat with me, Livia? I apologise that I did not rise sooner so that I might have laid the table myself, but my servants do well, I think."
"I think they do also. Your household is immaculate, if I may say, and I would like nothing better than to share your meal."
They sat down to eat, small talk continuing, until Julia noticed her guest eyeing her curiously, a small smile playing her pretty, well-formed mouth. Livia was past middle age, and though not nearly as comely as Diana, still very attractive. Her loose-fitting tunica did little to beautify her ample figure, spoiled by multiple pregnancies, however her magnetic and loving disposition made it easy for Julia to believe the popular rumour that her husband had stayed faithful to her throughout their long marriage.
"Why do you stare at me?" she asked the lady, smiling quizzically and narrowing her eyes.
"I have been longing to speak with you ever since I heard of your arrival," Livia replied, slicing a small loaf of bread before her and apparently ignoring the question. "I do not suppose you know of all the talking that went on about you. It lasted weeks – everyone wanted a glimpse of Marius's lovely and refined little bride. You fascinated people, Julia, and now I see why."
"I…am confused! Why did everyone talk?"
Livia reached across the table to squeeze her hand companionably. "For no reason you should not be proud of. Quite simply, you are the most beautiful and educated woman we have ever been fortunate enough to know. You are mysterious. Everyone would like to know your secrets, though I am not insinuating that you have any! You are obviously as virtuous as you are exquisite."
"Did you tell the talkers that, Livia?"
The lady tilted her head backwards, chuckling heartily. "Many times, my dear!"
Julia smiled until her face ached, looking coyly down at her untouched breakfast. It cheered her more than she could comprehend at that moment that, even if she barely showed herself outside her own home, at least dwellers of the outside world were aware of her existence.
"Strange," Livia noted suddenly. "You invited me to eat with you, and I appear to be eating all on my own."
Julia gazed wide-eyed at her friend who, unbeknown to her, found her innocence all at once charming and disturbing.
"You will be ill, my dear. You are too pale."
"I fear I already am ill," Julia murmured, seeing no reason anymore to be anything but completely honest with her guest. "I do not care for food in the mornings anymore. Sometimes…I even vomit. Without warning, when I am at my sewing, or supervising the servants…"
Her voice trailed off as she noticed Livia's exultant smile.
Marius often arrived home hours after the time she expected him, drunk. This suited her well, for she gradually became accustomed to long hours of solitude, alleviated as they were by Livia's frequent visits. It was while her husband was completely soused that she informed him that she was pregnant, expecting him not to remember come the morning. Incredibly, he did.
Impending fatherhood gave him even more reason to celebrate, both with alcohol and with her. In their bed, oddly, he remained every bit as insatiable, even as she had nursed a vain hope that now, he would leave her alone occasionally.
Livia had assisted her in calculating when she would give birth. Were it not for the other woman's vast store of knowledge, as well as her constant support and encouragement, Julia wondered how she would have coped. She had known that being married would almost invariably entail becoming a mother, although she had never looked forward to the prospect. Children had never held much interest for her. Her progressing condition, moreover, provided no end of discomfort and humiliation.
The majority of each day, including this one, she had spent vomiting. Livia had clapped her hands with joy upon hearing of the first flutterings within her young friend's belly, but to Julia herself they were nothing but a nuisance and a painful reminder of things to come.
Sipping a cupful of water, she sat hunched over her diary. Until recently, she had filled page after page with mournful eulogies on the past she had lost. Now she documented the future she dreaded.
A loud banging on the door caused her heart to leap with gladness. It was usual for Livia to surprise and embarrass her, as she loved to do, by calling on her first thing in the morning, though she had surely calculated this midday visit as a pleasant surprise. Julia hurried to let her in, swallowing to repress a fresh wave of nausea.
Pulling open the door, however, she was greeted with the sight of Quintus.
"Oh!" she yelped, instinctively jumping backwards.
He looked extremely old, as though he had aged twenty years since they had last met. Exhaustion lay etched in every feature, his face white and haggard and his hair and beard overgrown. His smile seemed forced, and when he held out his hands in greeting, she saw that they were shaking. Nevertheless, after overcoming her initial horror at seeing him, she was overpowered by elation.
"How did you find me?" she blurted out, unable to find any other words.
"Julia, do you not know that you, and your movements around this city are legendary?"
Glancing around them, she clutched his arms and pulled him inside the doorway. "I have been told, if you must know."
Unable to stop herself, she pressed her hands to either side of his face, as if to reassure herself that he was tangible, really there. Sudden tears blurred her vision.
"I couldn't help it," he said softly, making no move to prevent the contact she had made with him. "I discovered your location only this morning. Just when I had thought you gone from…Rome, forever. I would have sent a message, but I had no wish to anger your husband…"
"Marius cares not what I do or with whom I communicate!" she interjected urgently, her voice trembling. "As long as I am in his bed when he returns he is happy." Her face flamed as she regretted this crude admission, and she hung her head as she continued, "When did you learn of my marriage?"
"Almost as soon as the deed was done. I hope that you are contented now, my dear. I have heard also that you will shortly be blessed with a child."
Julia managed an ironic laugh, her cheeks still burning. "So my neighbours discuss such things so freely? The thought is hardly a comfort."
His gaze had not left hers during the whole of this exchange, and strangely, she did not feel in the least uneasy for it. Eventually, he broke the amiable silence between them by lifting her hand and kissing it chastely, his lips barely touching her skin. She gripped his fingers with her own, all the questions she had been longing to ask him rushing to the forefront of her mind, having lain dormant for so long.
"You asked for my hand the last time we met," she stated bluntly, her expression hardening. "It terrified me. Why did you do it?"
Quintus sighed deeply, his brow furrowing. "My esteem for you, and great, selfish naivety, almost drove me to madness. I sought your approval of myself in the only way I could imagine. I have long since realised what unforgivable folly it all was. I am an old man – too old for such things as marriage."
"Not so!" she reassured him weakly, bowing her head once more. The time when assurances might have affected her friend in any positive way had clearly long since passed.
"Thank you, my dear, but I did not come here to dwell on these matters with you. There is something else I must ask of you, a proposal I believe you will be more willing to accept than the last."
Her heart leaped involuntarily. She had craved desperately some new event in her life, whether good or bad, to occupy her mind. Besides, of course, all the unpleasantness attached to her pregnancy. "You must sit with me; then we will discuss whatever you wish!"
"I cannot…but I thank you again. I will not intrude inside your home longer than is necessary. The matter is…a friend of mine, a very wealthy and potentially very powerful man, who has been longing to meet you, for reasons I cannot share with you just yet. May he visit you?"
"He wishes to meet me?" she said, frowning even though excitement and anticipation threatened to engulf her.
"Yes. When may he come?"
"Tomorrow," she informed Quintus quickly, "if he is able. At this time. My husband need never know of it; as I have said, he cares not what I do."
