She flinched at the dismissiveness of his tone. “I’m only trying to help. I heard you with Petronax earlier. I don’t think you should antagonize him. What were you arguing about?” she pressed.
His gaze became stony. “It’s none of your concern.”
“Is it Silvanus’s concern?” she shot back. “I bet you’re going to tellhimeverything. Maybe you already have. You tell him too much. He is your subordinate, after all.”
Never before had she questioned his relationship with Silvanus, but Max’s outrage at the state of her marriage had changed something inside her. Maybe she’d been wrong to be so accommodating, so amenable. Maybe she deserved more than a disinterested husband.
“You are my subordinate too, wife.” Ice coated his words. “I will speak of my business as I please, and your opinion is not required.” He rose from behind the desk and strode past her to the door, pausing in the doorway. “Tell the kitchen that I will take dinner in my room.”
With Silvanus, no doubt.
She gave a stiff nod, and he left. The pile of redcurrants remained forlorn on his desk.
Volusia bit her lip until it hurt. They had never argued like this before, perhaps because Volusia had never broken her role of the dutiful, agreeable wife. But now, the boundaries of their marriage, once safe and comfortable, felt oppressive, constricting, like a hairstyle braided too tight.
She rose from the chair and left the study. In the hallway, her feet itched to turn right, toward the atrium and front door where Max no doubt stood, silent and dependable. But she forced herself to turn left, and retreated to her bedroom.
As the sun dipped low in the sky, Max left the governor’s residence and returned to the buildings that comprised the legion’s camp at the edge of the town. Almost as soon as he set foot within the walls, one of Glabrio’s lackeys informed him that the centurion would like to see him.
Jupiter’s balls.Max stifled a groan. One of the grooms in the stables must have reported his presence to Glabrio.
Max set his jaw and turned in the direction of the centurion’s office, practicing excuses in his head. He entered the office and saluted in a way he hoped looked especially deferential. “Sir, you asked to see me?”
Glabrio, seated at his desk, steepled his fingers and fixed Max with an intensified version of his usual disapproving glare. “I was told you violated the terms of your punishment.”
Max endeavored to look as innocent as a newborn kitten. “Sir?”
“You were seen at the stables today. Were you not expressly forbidden from visiting the stables?”
“Yes, sir, but the lady Volusia requested to go riding. I thought it would be inappropriate to refuse her.”
Glabrio’s brows drew together. “What reason does a lady have for riding?”
“I believe she wished to see some of the countryside, sir, but I did not think it respectful to question her motives.”
“So you abandoned your post to go gallivanting around the countryside with the governor’s wife,” Glabrio said.
“On the contrary sir, I assumed I was carrying out my duty by ensuring the lady’s safety. And…” Max risked a small elaboration of the truth. He had a feeling he was on the verge of another punishment, so he needed to think fast to convince Glabrio that he’d acted correctly. “Governor Avitus himself encouraged it. He wished his wife to see more of the province but did not have time to escort her himself.” At least it was true enough that Avitus knew of their outing—even if he hadn’t explicitly encouraged it.
Glabrio’s lips tightened at this new information. “Be that as it may, I would urge you to be cautious of how you conduct yourself, legionary. I would never dare to impugn the lady’s honor, but it’s well known that Roman ladies who have been married for a time often seek distraction. And any legionary who dares to take such liberties will be dishonorably dismissed without delay.”
Max flushed. Could Glabrio tell how much he wanted to take liberties with Volusia? “On my honor, sir, nothing untoward happened while we were riding.”
“Nor will it in the future,” Glabrio said. “If the lady asks to ride again, you will decline. Is that clear?”
Max strove for a chastened expression, despite his relief that he seemed to have avoided a second punishment. “Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Max saluted once more, and hurried from the office before Glabrio could change his mind.
The day after his riding excursion with Volusia, Max’s mind was full of Volusia’s confession about her marriage as he stood guard by her front door. It wasn’t fair. She deserved a husband who worshiped the very air she breathed. Avitus never should have married Volusia if he couldn’t be the loving husband she deserved.
Would you be happier to see her blissfully satisfied in her marriage?an unpleasant voice in his head questioned.
Perhaps there was a small, selfish, uncharitable part of him that was glad he didn’t have to witness her marital bliss. But still, his heart ached at the thought of what the past ten years must have been like for her.
A throat cleared. Max straightened up quickly, hoping to see Volusia.
