“Good morning, sir.” Aelius sat in the chair opposite the desk without waiting to be invited to do so. Rather presumptuous, but he was no supplicant come to ask for a loan or legal aid in the courts. He would be the man’s son-in-law if all went well.
Crispinus squinted at him. “Aelius Herminius, is it? Do we know each other?”
“I was at one of your recent dinner parties, sir. With Gaius Valerius Catullus.”
“Ah, yes, the poet.” His brow wrinkled, and Aelius wondered if he’d made a misstep by mentioning the poet. While Catullus’s works were generally admired, plenty of people found them prurient and frivolous.
Aelius changed the subject and got to the point. An eminent man like Crispinus would have a morning full of appointments, and he’d appreciate brevity and efficiency. “I come to you on a matter of importance, sir. I would like your consent to marry your daughter.”
Crispinus’s gray eyebrows rose. “Crispina?”
Does he have another daughter?Aelius nodded. “Yes, sir. Crispina.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You must know she’s barren.”
“I’m aware, sir.” Aelius had made a list of all possible objections or concerns that Crispinus could raise, and had practiced a rebuttal or counter-point to each. Now was the time to put his preparation to the test. “I met her at your dinner party and was quite taken with her.”
Crispinus’s frown deepened. “I know my daughter, and I know she goes to no effort to endear herself to anyone. I find it doubtful she has so enraptured you. I suppose I should ask if you’ve violated her, though it hardly matters.”
“No!” Aelius said hastily. He didn’t like the casual way Crispinus spoke of his daughter’s possible dishonor. No wonder she was desperate to get out of this house. “I assure you, I hold Crispina in the highest regard.” He leaned forward. Now was the time to lay it all out. “I intend to mount a campaign for tribune of the plebs in the next election. The support of your family name would be instrumental to my victory. And once I am victorious, it can only benefit you to have an ally in the plebeian assembly.” Aelius had no intent of compromising his victory by becoming a puppet of the patricians, but that was a problem for after he won the election.
“So you are a plebeian, then.” The distasteful expression returned to Crispinus’s face.
“Yes, and a freedman, sir.” He spoke the words as dispassionately as possible, as if he were telling Crispinus his address rather than revealing the shame of his birth.
Crispinus made a noise of disgust. “How low we have sunk, that because of one disgraced daughter we must entertain proposals from freedmen,” he muttered.
Aelius pretended not to have heard the remark. “I am sure you will be happy to have Crispina installed in her own household.”
“Yes, she has been a nuisance moping around the house. She drives her mother to distraction.”
Aelius strove to keep his expression neutral. He could barely get through one conversation with Crispina’s father without wanting to snap. With each word, he understood even more why Crispina wanted to escape so badly she’d agree to marry a man she barely knew. “Indeed. And because we will have no children to provide for, it’s only natural for the dowry to be reduced. Perhaps half of what you outlaid for her first marriage.” He had no idea how much Crispina’s dowry to Memmius had been, but judging by her family’s status, he bet it was a small fortune. The money didn’t matter to him. Dowries were returned in the event of a divorce, so it wouldn’t be his to keep anyway.
Interest lit in the man’s eyes at the prospect of saving money. “A quarter, and you’ll have the votes from all my plebeian clients.”
“Agreed.”
Crispinus gave a swift nod. “My scribe shall draw up the paperwork. You may consult with the augurs to determine an auspicious day for the wedding.”
Triumph lit a warm fire in Aelius’s chest. He’d done it. He’d secured the hand of a senator’s daughter.Crispina is going to be my wife.The unsmiling woman who splashed him when he offended her, who hid her face against his shoulder at a gladiator’s death—she was really going to be his wife.
Not forever,he reminded himself.
He still had a lot of work to do, but now he had a real shot at winning the election. “Thank you, sir. When will you inform Crispina?”
“Now is as good a time as any.” He rapped an inkwell on his desk. The door to his study opened, and a slave poked his head through. Crispinus issued a brusque order to fetch Crispina.
A minute later, Crispina appeared. Her head was bare, as she was in the privacy of her own home, and her dark hair tumbled in loose waves over her shoulders. She looked lovelier than ever, unadorned with jewelry, garbed in a simple gown of light green that clung to her slender figure.
Her face remained blank as she glanced from her father to Aelius. “You asked to see me, Father?”
“I have decided that you will marry this man,” Crispinus announced, gesturing at Aelius, “on a date of his choosing. You are very lucky I have made this match for you, considering your…difficulties.”
Crispina bowed her head, the picture of a demure daughter. “Yes, Father. Thank you.”
Aelius imagined that in any other circumstance, Crispina would have spat fire at being informed she’d been promised without her consent, but luckily this situation was of their own making. He had never imagined she could look so biddable. He vastly preferred the Crispina who doused him with water and spoke her mind.
Crispina turned to Aelius. “I shall need at least a week to prepare my bridal garments and pack my things. Please inform me of the date you choose at your earliest convenience.” Her voice rang with formality.
