afraid so. Brother, you ought to be more careful, we don’t want the name of Seferius sullied.’
Gaius stiffened. ‘No, indeed.’
His eyes narrowed as he looked at his wife. She opened hers ingenuously wide and shrugged. Lips pursed, Gaius turned to Julia.
‘What have you heard, sister?’
All eyes were on Julia as she laced her fingers together. ‘They say that if it’s good enough for the Emperor’s wife, it’s good enough for Claudia Seferius.’
‘What, exactly, are you driving at, dear?’ This time it was Claudia who spoke, her lips parted in what she hoped would be taken as a smile.
‘Spinning, of course! I mean, honestly, Claudia, you don’t do any of the weaving and clothmaking expected of a woman of your social standing, it’s an absolute disgrace.’ Two spots of colour had appeared on her cheeks. ‘The Emperor won’t consider clothes unless made by his own wife’s hand, just like my Marcellus would never dream of wearing anything other than homespun, would you, Marcellus?’
All eyes turned to Mulberrychops, who reminded Claudia of a beetle wriggling on the end of a pin.
‘Flavia won’t let you down, Antonius,’ Julia said primly, ‘I assure you of that. Oh yes, you’ll have a wife to be proud of, because she sews a very fine seam, does Flavia.’
All eyes turned to Flavia.
‘I do,’ she said smugly. ‘I sew a very fine seam.’ Claudia was aware that if she restrained her laughter much longer she’d wet herself, and when she glanced at Gaius it was obvious that the image of his wife happily playing with distaffs and spindles was too preposterous to take in. His whole body was shaking.
‘I do not find this amusing, brother. Simple pleasures are always the best.’
Claudia couldn’t help herself. ‘Did you say “thimble” pleasures, Julia?’
Marcellus laughed so heartily that food fell out of his mouth and down his tunic and Gaius’s eyes were watering when Leonides, the lanky Macedonian steward, entered the room.
‘I apologize for interrupting dinner sir only Rollo, the bailiff, is downstairs. Shall I ask him to wait or do I show him straight up?’
Gaius wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Oh, bring him up, Leonides. He’s ridden for two days, poor devil, he won’t want to hang around here for too long. Not when there are taverns and whores waiting.’
Seferius had immense respect for his bailiff. Originally a slave set to work on the farm, Rollo had shown such flair for viniculture that Gaius had quickly given him his freedom and promoted him to supervise the vineyards. Within less than five years, Rollo had risen to become bailiff of the entire estate.
He looked as though he’d ridden for two weeks, rather than two days. His face was drawn, he could pass for forty instead of thirty.
‘Master Seferius, it’s bad news, I’m afraid. It’s your son…’
‘Lucius?’
‘Aye. There’s been an accident.’ He shuffled his feet and stared at his large, square hands. ‘I’m most terribly sorry, sir—he’s dead.’
IX
Claudia was engrossed in thought as her entourage wove its way through the maze of temples, arches, halls and rostra that comprised the Forum. Progress through the throng of orators and philosophers, barbers and beggars was slow, and donkeys carrying stone for the restorations were becoming bad-tempered in the stifling heat. To her left rose the twin peaks of the Palatine where the imperial residence and a sumptuous temple to Apollo dominated the skyline, while on her right work was in progress on the Capitol in the form of a temple to Jupiter in praise of Augustus’s escape from lightning during his recent Spanish campaign. At times the builders’ hammers threatened to drown the clamour in the Forum. Claudia snapped shut the distinctive orange curtains of her litter.
Poor Gaius. The death of his favourite had come as a body blow. He’d crumpled instantly and remained inconsolable. She chewed her lip. Terrible business. From the moment of
Gaius stiffened. ‘No, indeed.’
His eyes narrowed as he looked at his wife. She opened hers ingenuously wide and shrugged. Lips pursed, Gaius turned to Julia.
‘What have you heard, sister?’
All eyes were on Julia as she laced her fingers together. ‘They say that if it’s good enough for the Emperor’s wife, it’s good enough for Claudia Seferius.’
‘What, exactly, are you driving at, dear?’ This time it was Claudia who spoke, her lips parted in what she hoped would be taken as a smile.
‘Spinning, of course! I mean, honestly, Claudia, you don’t do any of the weaving and clothmaking expected of a woman of your social standing, it’s an absolute disgrace.’ Two spots of colour had appeared on her cheeks. ‘The Emperor won’t consider clothes unless made by his own wife’s hand, just like my Marcellus would never dream of wearing anything other than homespun, would you, Marcellus?’
All eyes turned to Mulberrychops, who reminded Claudia of a beetle wriggling on the end of a pin.
‘Flavia won’t let you down, Antonius,’ Julia said primly, ‘I assure you of that. Oh yes, you’ll have a wife to be proud of, because she sews a very fine seam, does Flavia.’
All eyes turned to Flavia.
‘I do,’ she said smugly. ‘I sew a very fine seam.’ Claudia was aware that if she restrained her laughter much longer she’d wet herself, and when she glanced at Gaius it was obvious that the image of his wife happily playing with distaffs and spindles was too preposterous to take in. His whole body was shaking.
‘I do not find this amusing, brother. Simple pleasures are always the best.’
Claudia couldn’t help herself. ‘Did you say “thimble” pleasures, Julia?’
Marcellus laughed so heartily that food fell out of his mouth and down his tunic and Gaius’s eyes were watering when Leonides, the lanky Macedonian steward, entered the room.
‘I apologize for interrupting dinner sir only Rollo, the bailiff, is downstairs. Shall I ask him to wait or do I show him straight up?’
Gaius wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Oh, bring him up, Leonides. He’s ridden for two days, poor devil, he won’t want to hang around here for too long. Not when there are taverns and whores waiting.’
Seferius had immense respect for his bailiff. Originally a slave set to work on the farm, Rollo had shown such flair for viniculture that Gaius had quickly given him his freedom and promoted him to supervise the vineyards. Within less than five years, Rollo had risen to become bailiff of the entire estate.
He looked as though he’d ridden for two weeks, rather than two days. His face was drawn, he could pass for forty instead of thirty.
‘Master Seferius, it’s bad news, I’m afraid. It’s your son…’
‘Lucius?’
‘Aye. There’s been an accident.’ He shuffled his feet and stared at his large, square hands. ‘I’m most terribly sorry, sir—he’s dead.’
IX
Claudia was engrossed in thought as her entourage wove its way through the maze of temples, arches, halls and rostra that comprised the Forum. Progress through the throng of orators and philosophers, barbers and beggars was slow, and donkeys carrying stone for the restorations were becoming bad-tempered in the stifling heat. To her left rose the twin peaks of the Palatine where the imperial residence and a sumptuous temple to Apollo dominated the skyline, while on her right work was in progress on the Capitol in the form of a temple to Jupiter in praise of Augustus’s escape from lightning during his recent Spanish campaign. At times the builders’ hammers threatened to drown the clamour in the Forum. Claudia snapped shut the distinctive orange curtains of her litter.
Poor Gaius. The death of his favourite had come as a body blow. He’d crumpled instantly and remained inconsolable. She chewed her lip. Terrible business. From the moment of
Similar Books
