Read Online A Day of Fire: A Novel of Pompeii by Kate Quinn, Ben Kane, Stephanie Dray, Michelle Moran, E. Knight, Sophie Perinot, Vicky Alvear Shecter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Quinn, Ben Kane, Stephanie Dray, Michelle Moran, E. Knight, Sophie Perinot, Vicky Alvear Shecter
Tags: Historical fiction, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Amazon, Retail, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense
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nubile young thing. Her father’s fortune would be reason enough to marry her, but you get good looks, too. I ought to be more worried about the former because you will be better funded next time you run against me. But let’s just say that whenever I see your Aemilia in the theater or marketplace, it’s not the richness of her dress that draws my eye.”
“I will take my leave,” Sabinus had to choke the words out. The thought of Pansa casting lustful looks at Aemilia made his throat close.
As Sabinus turned to go, Pansa added, his tone light, “If you want me to act on your suggestions, engineer, I suggest you come back with less talk and more coin. I am not an unreasonable man.”
Sabinus ignored the insult, and considered bribing the aedile for a moment—but to pay a dishonorable man was to throw money away. So he kept walking, out of the forum and into the street. There he paused, breathing heavily. The unseasonably warm autumn air did little to relieve the pounding in his head. He needed something to draw the blood elsewhere and take his mind off his various troubles and worries. He knew just the thing. He turned his step in the direction of his favorite caupona . The wine was good and the spicy sausages better, but more importantly there was a woman there who would wipe his mind blank. Not the skinny, swarthy whore with the sharp tongue who belonged to the place, but her rosy, well-rounded sister, Capella, who was always both friendly and obliging.
IT was not until she got off her knees to rinse out her mouth that Sabinus felt a twinge of guilt—for thinking of Aemilia while Capella had him between her lips.
“Will you take a glass with me?” he asked with a certain contrition.
Capella paused in the process of tidying her glorious golden mane, and looked at him curiously. They were not in one of the little street-side cubicles where she ordinarily plied her trade, but rather above the caupona ; Sabinus didn’t mind paying for the added privacy. Capella smiled at him. “Until my master notices—he doesn’t like me to linger too long with one customer.”
When they’d settled at a table in a dark corner, far from the open front of the place and thus less likely to be seen by anyone who knew Sabinus well, Capella spoke again. “I think something is bothering you, and I believe I know what it is.”
Could she know? Could she be concerned about the tremors too?
“A man of your age and stature shouldn’t be nervous about marrying,” she continued, offering a smile. “Marriage is a blessed thing, a gift from the goddess, and I think you will enjoy having a wife to cook for you. Besides, any woman would be lucky to have you. Is she pretty, your betrothed?”
“She is pretty.” And she does not need to cook for me , he thought. Someone will do that for her. Someone will dress her, do her hair, carry her purchases in the marketplace, and refill her lamps—all unimaginable luxuries to the girl who sat across from him. He lowered his voice. “Maybe too pretty for me. Or better say, maybe I am not pretty enough for her. I suspect she is infatuated with a youth nearer her own age.”
“Does he return her affection?”
“What youth would not?” Sabinus cut himself off before his bitterness ran away with him. Why was he telling her this—something he had not said out loud to any other? Telling his secret insecurities to a tavern maid? Perhaps it was her kindness. He perceived that quality in Capella whenever they met.
“Beauty is a great attractor for the young,” Capella conceded. “But as she grows in wisdom, your wife will come to value other virtues. Does a little infatuation bother you so much?”
“Of course.” Again his own candor surprised him. “I saw them together this morning. He was standing so close to her, and her eyes … Let’s just say they never regard me in such a manner.”
Capella gave a musical laugh. “Do you know how few Roman husbands care how their
“I will take my leave,” Sabinus had to choke the words out. The thought of Pansa casting lustful looks at Aemilia made his throat close.
As Sabinus turned to go, Pansa added, his tone light, “If you want me to act on your suggestions, engineer, I suggest you come back with less talk and more coin. I am not an unreasonable man.”
Sabinus ignored the insult, and considered bribing the aedile for a moment—but to pay a dishonorable man was to throw money away. So he kept walking, out of the forum and into the street. There he paused, breathing heavily. The unseasonably warm autumn air did little to relieve the pounding in his head. He needed something to draw the blood elsewhere and take his mind off his various troubles and worries. He knew just the thing. He turned his step in the direction of his favorite caupona . The wine was good and the spicy sausages better, but more importantly there was a woman there who would wipe his mind blank. Not the skinny, swarthy whore with the sharp tongue who belonged to the place, but her rosy, well-rounded sister, Capella, who was always both friendly and obliging.
IT was not until she got off her knees to rinse out her mouth that Sabinus felt a twinge of guilt—for thinking of Aemilia while Capella had him between her lips.
“Will you take a glass with me?” he asked with a certain contrition.
Capella paused in the process of tidying her glorious golden mane, and looked at him curiously. They were not in one of the little street-side cubicles where she ordinarily plied her trade, but rather above the caupona ; Sabinus didn’t mind paying for the added privacy. Capella smiled at him. “Until my master notices—he doesn’t like me to linger too long with one customer.”
When they’d settled at a table in a dark corner, far from the open front of the place and thus less likely to be seen by anyone who knew Sabinus well, Capella spoke again. “I think something is bothering you, and I believe I know what it is.”
Could she know? Could she be concerned about the tremors too?
“A man of your age and stature shouldn’t be nervous about marrying,” she continued, offering a smile. “Marriage is a blessed thing, a gift from the goddess, and I think you will enjoy having a wife to cook for you. Besides, any woman would be lucky to have you. Is she pretty, your betrothed?”
“She is pretty.” And she does not need to cook for me , he thought. Someone will do that for her. Someone will dress her, do her hair, carry her purchases in the marketplace, and refill her lamps—all unimaginable luxuries to the girl who sat across from him. He lowered his voice. “Maybe too pretty for me. Or better say, maybe I am not pretty enough for her. I suspect she is infatuated with a youth nearer her own age.”
“Does he return her affection?”
“What youth would not?” Sabinus cut himself off before his bitterness ran away with him. Why was he telling her this—something he had not said out loud to any other? Telling his secret insecurities to a tavern maid? Perhaps it was her kindness. He perceived that quality in Capella whenever they met.
“Beauty is a great attractor for the young,” Capella conceded. “But as she grows in wisdom, your wife will come to value other virtues. Does a little infatuation bother you so much?”
“Of course.” Again his own candor surprised him. “I saw them together this morning. He was standing so close to her, and her eyes … Let’s just say they never regard me in such a manner.”
Capella gave a musical laugh. “Do you know how few Roman husbands care how their
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