Read Online Death at Pompeia's Wedding by Rosemary Rowe - Free Book Online

had left by now – including Antoninus, I observed – and, as she’d said, the few that remained were obviously waiting to say their goodbyes as well.
    I raised my brows at Livia. ‘But isn’t there a relative by marriage in the house?’ I murmured, then added, since she was staring in puzzlement at me, ‘Somebody called Redux, or something similar? I thought I heard it mentioned.’
    From the chill that followed you might have supposed that I had named the hound of hell himself within a house of death, and was myself in danger of bringing a curse upon the place.
    Her face turned scarlet and her voice was surprisingly unsteady as she said, ‘Related by marriage in a fashion, I suppose. But quite remotely and some time ago. Hardly the person to perform the rites.’
    She was so dismissive that I pressed the point. ‘But, surely, even a remote connection, in the circumstances . . .’ I trailed off, remembering. ‘Oh, but come to think of it, do I recall hearing that there was some kind of grudge?’
    She gave me a thin smile. ‘Exactly, citizen. And that is family business, so if you’ll excuse me now . . .’
    She made as if to turn away, but I prevented her. I could not lay a hand upon her arm – that would have been presumptuous – but I said in an urgent undertone, ‘Lady, if I am to help you in this matter, I must know the facts – and I would rather hear them from your lips than have to ask the gossips. Or perhaps Helena Domna would enlighten me . . .?’
    The name – as I hoped – was enough to do the trick. Livia gave me a nervous sideways glance. ‘I suppose you’d find out somehow. At least if I tell you, there’s some chance you’ll hear the truth. Very well. Come into the triclinium , where we won’t be overheard.’
    She waved her maidservant and Minimus aside and led the way into the dining room, where the decorated central table, and the stools and other seating set around the walls were a forlorn reminder of the cancelled feast. She sat on one of the three dining couches for which the room is named, and motioned me to sit beside her on a stool. ‘I can’t be long, I shall very soon be missed, but I will tell you the story very briefly, citizen. It is not a happy one. Redux was brother-in-law to young Honoria – Pompeia’s elder sister and my stepdaughter – who was executed by my husband for her presumed adultery. Perhaps you’ve heard the tale?’
    I nodded. ‘I had heard rumours.’
    ‘I am not surprised. It was the talk of Aqua Sulis for a moon or two. In the old days, of course, when people like Julius Caesar were alive, it was a dishonour not to mete out that kind of punishment – but these are modern times. It was regarded as a very cruel and violent thing to do. Even Redux’s brother Miles thought so, and he was the husband in the case.’ She picked up one of the roses from the tabletop and – as if her hands were moving without her willing it – began to tear the petals from it one by one.
    ‘Though Honorius was defending the husband’s honour as well as his own,’ I said.
    She nodded. ‘Miles didn’t want to believe Honoria had been unfaithful – the maids had heard her screaming that she was innocent, and he would have heard her out. But her father wouldn’t listen – there was no excuse, he said. He was visiting the house and found her in her sleeping room, apparently, lying on the bed frame half-undressed, with a man who was not her husband hiding underneath. There was only one thing for a father to do in such a case, according to his view. And, of course, he did it. He pulled out his dagger and slit both their throats – “cutting off the bough that shames the tree” he called it – to uphold the honour of the family name. And when there were protests – from Miles among others – Honorius took the matter to the courts, and won. The two men had business dealings – that is why the marriage was arranged in the first place – but it made for