Page 81 of Enslaved
“Thank you, Lady Diana,” Tor said fervently.
“Keep your weapon ready at all times,” she cautioned with a straight face.
“I will, lady,” he assured her.
“I feel sure Livi and her girls will be able to keep you reasonably happy. The question is, are you up to keeping them happy?” Laughing, Diana went through the door into her own chamber, leaving Tor grinning from ear to ear.
Chapter 25
Petrius coveted his father’s wealth. He had always been wildly jealous that Marcus was firstborn and the heir. But at least until now he had been Marcus’ sole heir. As Primus Pilus, then general in the Roman army, the odds were against his brother surviving past his prime. Until now all Petrius had to exercise was patience, and everything would be his. Now that Marcus was about to marry, however, all that would change. Marcus’ children would become his heirs and Petrius would receive only a small share of the family wealth.
On the voyage to Rome, he had done his utmost to persuade Marcus against marriage. He had vilified women in general as faithless bitches who sold themselves to the highest bidder. He pointed out that a concubine could be controlled; a wife could not. But when his insinuations moved from women in general to Diana, Marcus had not taken it kindly. Especially when Petrius hinted of impropriety with her virile young bodyguard. His brother’s black eyes had glittered dangerously.
“I think I am capable of controlling my woman, Petrius. Keep your vile tongue and your vile thoughts from her, if you wish to remain healthy.”
“Marcus, you mistake me. It’s the shackles of matrimony I warn you against, not Diana. If your mind is made up to marry, you couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful bride.”
Petrius had only one avenue left open to him, before he would be forced to do something quite drastic. When he went in to greet his father, he was dismayed to learn that the old man’s brain had not deteriorated along with his body.
“There is a most serious matter I must bring to your attention, Father. Marcus is a love-sick fool who cannot see that this woman marries him for gain. She cannot wait to get her hands on your wealth. I swear to you she was his slave. Your grandsons will be the offspring of a slave!”
Titus closed his eyes to ease the pain Petrius’ words brought him. After a moment’s silence he opened his eyes and looked at his handsome son. “You think I should change my will.” It was a statement, rather than a question.
“Yes, I do, Father. If he is determined to bring shame upon the House of Magnus, he should not receive the lion’s share of our wealth. The woman is a slut who fornicates with her own bodyguard. She even accepted my advances.”
“She must be very beautiful to tempt you, Petrius.”
“She is. She tempts every man who glimpses her.”
“Beauty can be a curse, Petrius. I believe your beauty is a curse. I shall change my will. But I’m afraid it won’t make you very happy. You see, I, too, am cursed, Petrius. Cursed by one son while being blessed by the other. I had hoped a military career would at least cure you of cowardice, but even that was too much to expect. Get you from my sight!”
Petrius flung from the chamber, and then the villa. So be it. The old tyrant had sealed his doom. Petrius was being forced to do something drastic, and do it soon before his father had a chance to change his will.
Though he was very sick, Marcus’ father had one of his personal body slaves lift him from his couch into a chair. He was too proud to receive his firstborn son in bed. But even so, the pallor of his skin and the amount of weight he had lost betrayed to Marcus the extent of his father’s illness.
Marcus was shocked at how much his father had aged, but he was relieved to see that the burning intensity of life still glowed in his dark eyes. Marcus dropped to his knees so they could embrace.
A blunt, unsentimental man, Titus said baldly, “I have lost the use of my legs, but as a result my brain is twice as sharp.”
Marcus grinned at him. “You always were the most intelligent and astute man I ever met. I am happy to see the years have not altered that.”
“So you have brought a bride home at last. I quite despaired of grandchildren. She must be something special to meet your exacting standards.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow, a protest on his lips.
Titus lifted a commanding hand to stay his words. “You are too much like me. You have such lofty principles, you expect the same from others. Duty before pleasure; death before dishonor. Your gods are truth and justice.”
“You make me sound insufferable.”
“We both are. Wherever did you find a paragon worthy of you?” he asked with amusement.
“She is a Briton, as intelligent as she is lovely. I hope you will give us your blessing, Father.”
Titus’ black eyes met those of his beloved son’s and held. “Marcus, your choice is my choice.”
Marcus knew they shared a bond that nothing could ever tear asunder. Their love for each other was unconditional and absolute.
“Now, tell me of this mission you and Julius Classicianus have. If you are to persuade Nero and the Senate to aught, it won’t hurt to have unlimited bribes at your disposal. My wealth is your wealth, Marcus; you know that.”
