“I thought—I thought Dihya was flirting with me,” Caeso stammered. “And she did keep going on about her daughter, but I assumed that’s just how mothers are. I swear by Vesta, she never said anything about marrying her daughter!”
“I know,” Lucretia said. “Dihya made some unfortunate assumptions. Though,” she allowed her voice to take on a gently chiding tone, “I would caution you against kissing women with no explicit indication that they would welcome it. If you had been more circumspect, this whole situation may have been avoided.” Though, to be fair, if Caeso hadn’t acted so impulsively, how long might this whole miscommunication have lasted?
Caeso ran an agonized hand through his short dark hair. “You’re right. I was so foolish. She gave me this odd look when she left the table. I thought she wanted me to follow her! I couldn’t think what else she meant by it. Please, Lucretia, will you apologize to both of them on my behalf? I’m sure they don’t wish to see me, but I must beg their forgiveness for how I acted.”
“My hope is that you may be able to deliver such a message in person,” Lucretia said. “Dihya asked me to come speak to you, to see if there really was a misunderstanding. I’ll tell her of our conversation, and I believe she’ll want to apologize to you as well. She should have been clearer about her intentions.”
“Oh, if you could make that happen, I’d be eternally grateful,” Caeso said. “I couldn’t live with myself if she thought poorly of me. I really do like her—I mean, more than like her. I think about her all the time. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. No offense,” he added hastily, flushing.
Lucretia grinned. His infatuation was endearing. “None taken.”
“I was sure there was no way she’d think of me like that,” he continued. “Then she invited me to dinner and I thought, maybe she liked me too. Maybe this was my chance. But then everything went so wrong. Oh, Lucretia, if you could help me fix things with her, I’d owe you, well,everything.”
“I’ll do my best.” Lucretia took out her purse to pay for the honey cake, but Caeso waved away her coins. She accepted thegesture with a grateful nod. Another patron had appeared in line behind her, so she bid Caeso farewell and continued on her way.
Time for her second mission.
Lucretia made her way from Caeso’s stall to the harbor, shading her eyes as she gazed out at the water. A ship was slowly making its way in, sails furled as a neat row of oars dipped in and out of the water. Usually, she only came to the harbor when she was expecting one of her ships to return. But today, she had come to surveil Felix’s ship.
She watched the ship until she was sure she recognized it as theProserpina, one of Felix’s vessels. Then, she headed to the nearby building which housed the office that dealt with import and taxation. She bypassed the man watching the entrance with a smile and a silver coin, then entered the first room she came to, a large space filled with clerks scribbling onto wax tablets. The clicking of abaci filled the air.
Lucretia glanced around, chin raised as she waited for someone to notice her. She carried herself as if she were expected, as if she had every right to walk into this room and survey their operations.
After several moments, a portly man in a rust-red tunic hastened up to her. “Are you lost, lady?” Thankfully, he wasn’t one of the bureaucrats whom she’d met before. Today, it was better for her not to be recognized.
“No.” She smiled sweetly, noting how his gaze softened as she did so. “I’d like to pass along some intelligence that theProserpina—Lucius Avitus Felix’s ship—is carrying unreported cargo. I heard some gossip at a dinner party and I felt it was only my duty to report it.”
The man frowned. “Lucius Avitus Felix always pays his taxes.”
“But can you be sure that he pays infull? I’ve been told it’s very easy to conceal items of value among humbler cargo. I would hate to think he was depriving your office of its due.”
“Well—I would never accuse a man like Lucius Avitus Felix—” the man stammered.
“I’m not accusing anyone,” Lucretia replied. “Merely suggesting that you look into it.” She dropped a small coin purse in front of the man, which he only barely caught, then turned and left the building.
She couldn’t resist a smile of satisfaction. If Felix was going to go after Lentulus, then she would go after Felix’s cargo.
This tip to the tax officials wouldn’tactuallyharm him—provided he wasn’t engaging in any illegal activity. Felix seemed scrupulous, so she doubted he had anything to fear from an audit of his cargo.
But it would be a nuisance, and Felix deserved a nuisance after his efforts to steal her investors out from under her. He needed to know that he couldn’t get away with such schemes without retaliation.
However, she couldn’t help wondering what Felix would try next. Perhaps he would try to go after her suppliers. She would have to write some letters, try to get ahead of him.
There was only one way he could truly destroy her, one great risk she’d taken to guarantee herself full autonomy over her business. As long as that secret remained hidden, she could face whatever Felix threw at her.
Chapter 8
Felix ground his teeth as he surveyed Paulinus, the secretary standing before him. Siro was away to Spoletium in search of Lucretia’s guardian, but Paulinus was a worthy, if slightly jumpy, second-in-command.
“What do you mean, the customs officials are holding my cargo?” Felix demanded. One of his ships had docked this morning, and Felix should already be well enmeshed in the work of selling its goods to the various merchants who would distribute them down the Tiber to Rome and from there throughout Italy.
It wasn’t unusual for customs officials to make a cursory inspection of incoming boats, but Felix had managed to avoid undue hassle by virtue of always paying his taxes in full, along with a few well-placed bribes. But today, it seemed they were in a mood to be more thorough than usual.
Paulinus clasped his hands, fingers squeezing each other. “They say they have not yet finished their inspection.”
“Did they say how long their inspection would take?”
Paulinus took a small step back, as if to distance himself from Felix’s wrath. “A few days. Maybe a week.”
