cow.
‘How do I look?’
Frightful. ‘Wonderful. And me?’
‘Claudia, you look as ravishing now as the day I married you.’ He clucked her under the chin, then paused. ‘Tell me, my dove. There must have been times over the last few years when you’ve wanted…a spot of male company, shall we say?’
‘A lover?’
The more direct you are about things, the more it unnerves people. Especially husbands.
‘Ah, well, I wouldn’t go so far as…’
‘Gaius. I assure you, sex is not a problem.’ Or in our case, the distinct lack of it. ‘I wonder what your sister will find to carp about tonight?’
Gaius chuckled. ‘These interchanges are good fun, what?’
Claudia made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat.
‘Seriously, my little dove.’ Gaius picked up an ivory comb and ran it through his hair, covering the front where it receded. ‘Sweet, domesticated wives are ten a quadran, whereas Seferius has a treasure beyond price.’
‘Oh?’
‘A wife with balls. Rarer than teeth on a duck’s arse.’ They were both chortling when they emerged from his bedroom, and Claudia was delighted to see that Julia looked as though she’d bitten straight through a lemon. Just in case the frosty old turnip had missed the point, she pinched Gaius’s bottom and got a playful slap on her own in return. Her stepdaughter’s jaw had dropped open and Claudia wished someone would have the sense to snap it shut for her. Of Gaius’s four children, Flavia was the least likeable. Whereas her sister Calpurnia, was a lively, amusing creature—until her untimely death at the age of fifteen. Poor old Gaius wasn’t having much luck with his offspring, really. His youngest son, Secundus, a snide little bastard if ever there was one, had managed to fall under the broad wheels of a wagon. He wasn’t much of a loss, though, and Claudia didn’t think even his father had mourned him for longer than a week. Still, he’d at least had a sense of fun, that boy.
‘New tunic, brother?’
‘Pure Campanian wool. Like it?’
Julia wrinkled her nose, but said nothing as she followed them up the other stairs towards the smaller dining room. It was strange to think there were twenty years between brother and sister Claudia reflected. His zest for life and his passion for the wine business knocked years off Gaius, yet Julia could pass for a decade older. The party paused to admire the new frescoes depicting scenes from Greek literature. In the doorway, Marcellus blocked his hostess’s path.
‘Good, was it?’ he sniggered, nodding towards Gaius, who was now gingerly lowering his bulk on to the couch.
Claudia treated him to a sickly smile and patted his pockmarked cheek. ‘Better than you’ll ever be, brother-in-law, better than you’ll ever be.’
She wriggled in between Flavia and Antonius, certain the arrangement would suit them both, although that wasn’t her motive.
‘Could any man want for a more beautiful mother-in-law?’ Scaevola asked, tilting his glass at Claudia. ‘Or a prettier bride?’
Claudia spluttered into her wine. Pretty was stretching the imagination, wasn’t it? Flavia had been sulky and sullen even before the prospect of marriage came along, sitting round-shouldered and biting her nails. Of course, a smile would be a great improvement, but that didn’t seem to be part of the girl’s wardrobe. On the other hand, when you were fifty-three yourself, maybe any fifteen-year-old looks attractive?
The slaves came round with the eggs and salad. She would be a very wealthy woman one of these days, would Flavia, now there was only herself and Lucius to inherit the Seferius fortune. Gaius had made sound provision for his wife, but his children were the chief inheritors.
‘There’s a lot of talk going round about you, Claudia.’
Julia’s birdlike features seemed more pronounced than ever tonight.
‘Oh?’
You bastard, Orbilio! I’ll nail your balls to a post for this!
Julia sniffed. ‘I’m
‘How do I look?’
Frightful. ‘Wonderful. And me?’
‘Claudia, you look as ravishing now as the day I married you.’ He clucked her under the chin, then paused. ‘Tell me, my dove. There must have been times over the last few years when you’ve wanted…a spot of male company, shall we say?’
‘A lover?’
The more direct you are about things, the more it unnerves people. Especially husbands.
‘Ah, well, I wouldn’t go so far as…’
‘Gaius. I assure you, sex is not a problem.’ Or in our case, the distinct lack of it. ‘I wonder what your sister will find to carp about tonight?’
Gaius chuckled. ‘These interchanges are good fun, what?’
Claudia made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat.
‘Seriously, my little dove.’ Gaius picked up an ivory comb and ran it through his hair, covering the front where it receded. ‘Sweet, domesticated wives are ten a quadran, whereas Seferius has a treasure beyond price.’
‘Oh?’
‘A wife with balls. Rarer than teeth on a duck’s arse.’ They were both chortling when they emerged from his bedroom, and Claudia was delighted to see that Julia looked as though she’d bitten straight through a lemon. Just in case the frosty old turnip had missed the point, she pinched Gaius’s bottom and got a playful slap on her own in return. Her stepdaughter’s jaw had dropped open and Claudia wished someone would have the sense to snap it shut for her. Of Gaius’s four children, Flavia was the least likeable. Whereas her sister Calpurnia, was a lively, amusing creature—until her untimely death at the age of fifteen. Poor old Gaius wasn’t having much luck with his offspring, really. His youngest son, Secundus, a snide little bastard if ever there was one, had managed to fall under the broad wheels of a wagon. He wasn’t much of a loss, though, and Claudia didn’t think even his father had mourned him for longer than a week. Still, he’d at least had a sense of fun, that boy.
‘New tunic, brother?’
‘Pure Campanian wool. Like it?’
Julia wrinkled her nose, but said nothing as she followed them up the other stairs towards the smaller dining room. It was strange to think there were twenty years between brother and sister Claudia reflected. His zest for life and his passion for the wine business knocked years off Gaius, yet Julia could pass for a decade older. The party paused to admire the new frescoes depicting scenes from Greek literature. In the doorway, Marcellus blocked his hostess’s path.
‘Good, was it?’ he sniggered, nodding towards Gaius, who was now gingerly lowering his bulk on to the couch.
Claudia treated him to a sickly smile and patted his pockmarked cheek. ‘Better than you’ll ever be, brother-in-law, better than you’ll ever be.’
She wriggled in between Flavia and Antonius, certain the arrangement would suit them both, although that wasn’t her motive.
‘Could any man want for a more beautiful mother-in-law?’ Scaevola asked, tilting his glass at Claudia. ‘Or a prettier bride?’
Claudia spluttered into her wine. Pretty was stretching the imagination, wasn’t it? Flavia had been sulky and sullen even before the prospect of marriage came along, sitting round-shouldered and biting her nails. Of course, a smile would be a great improvement, but that didn’t seem to be part of the girl’s wardrobe. On the other hand, when you were fifty-three yourself, maybe any fifteen-year-old looks attractive?
The slaves came round with the eggs and salad. She would be a very wealthy woman one of these days, would Flavia, now there was only herself and Lucius to inherit the Seferius fortune. Gaius had made sound provision for his wife, but his children were the chief inheritors.
‘There’s a lot of talk going round about you, Claudia.’
Julia’s birdlike features seemed more pronounced than ever tonight.
‘Oh?’
You bastard, Orbilio! I’ll nail your balls to a post for this!
Julia sniffed. ‘I’m
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