Felix gave a dismissive shake of his head. “My stepfather is a horse breeder. There was no way I could have grown up without being at least a mediocre horseman.”
He was more than mediocre, Lucretia had to admit. She knew little of horses, but the ease with which Felix managed the beast was evident in his relaxed posture and loose grip on the reins.
For her part, she felt dreadfully unsteady, as if any unexpected movement might tip her off the side of the horse. She had to cling to Felix much tighter than she wished, digging her fingers into the fabric of his tunic. The unpleasant proximity also allowed her to notice his smell, something woodsy and lightlyspiced. It was the same aroma she’d detected in their brief moments of nearness before.
Now, she recognized the fragrance as marjoram; his clothes must be stored with sprigs of it. Marjoram hailed from the eastern regions where Felix concentrated his trade, so it made sense that he preferred it—just as she liked to perfume herself with Gallic lavender.
Lucretia couldn’t help breathing deeply as they traveled, allowing the calming, herbal fragrance to fill her lungs.
She had never been this close to Felix before, with multiple body parts pressed tight, jostling against each other as the horse trotted. Then again, she hadn’t been this physically close toanyone—save a rare perfunctory hug from Marcus—in a long time. Since Cornelius died. And their marital relationship had been waning for several years before his death. They had still been friendly and companionable, but the ardor of their early marriage had long since dwindled by the time Cornelius was taken from her.
Now, with Felix’s lean body beneath her hands, a hesitant tendril of sensation sprouted within her. It spiraled through her, sparking tingles where their bodies met.
Lucretia tamped it down hastily. Perhaps this inappropriate craving was her mind’s way of distracting her from the guilt and self-reproach that had consumed her for the past day.
Finally, Felix drew the horse off the main road, down a dirt path that led toward the shore. They had been stopping to ask anyone they passed for word of a shipwreck. A wreck was an exciting event, so news had spread with speed, and they easily received directions as they got closer.
The path sputtered to a halt at the top of a rocky cliff overlooking the water. Felix stopped the horse, hopped down, then reached up to help Lucretia. She didn’t allow herself to enjoy the press of his hands around her waist as he supportedher to the ground, but heat flared where he touched her nonetheless.
“It must be down here.” He walked over to the cliff, looking down.
Lucretia followed him, then drew in a sharp breath when she saw what lay below.
A small, sandy beach stretched between the cliffs and the sea, and it was littered with wooden wreckage. Out at sea, a rock formation jutted from the water, sharp and unmoving against the rolling waves. The ship must have run up against that in the storm, then sank with its debris washing up on shore.
Between the splintered chunks of wood lay a different sort of wreckage, made up of rounder, softer forms.Bodies.
“Divine Juno,” she breathed, shuddering.
A moving figure below caught her attention, and for a moment her heart leaped, thinking it was a survivor. But the figure moved quickly from one body to another, then paused to investigate a half-broken crate of something.
A scavenger, come to see what profit they could scrape from others’ misfortune.
“That’s my property!” Felix snarled as the figure yanked out an amphora, remarkably unbroken. “Stay here,” he snapped to Lucretia.
He hurried forward, and for a moment Lucretia thought he meant to jump off the cliff. Then, she saw the narrow, steep path that wound its way down the rock face to the beach.
Felix was the last person she would take orders from, so she followed him. She hiked up her skirts in one hand, using the other to brace herself against the rock to her right. She watched Felix’s steps carefully, matching the position of his feet, until her toes touched the sandy beach.
Felix dimly registered that Lucretia had ignored his command to stay behind, but he paid her no mind as he hastened down the cliffside path. If she wanted to risk breaking her ankle, so be it.
He made it to the beach and started toward the scavenger, long strides eating up the sand. “Unhand that cargo!”
The other man froze, but didn’t drop the sealed amphora he’d extricated from the broken crate. “Piss off,” the man growled. “I have as much right as anyone to salvage.”
“This ship and all its contents belong to me.” Felix squared his shoulders. The man was bulky, but shorter than Felix. A fight would be bloody and vicious, but Felix would do what was necessary to protect his cargo. “If you abscond with so much as a splinter of wood, I’ll have you prosecuted for theft.”
The man’s eyes slid to the side, assessing the surrounding terrain. Felix could tell he was preparing to run, and Felix gathered his own legs beneath him.
“Unless your name is Caesar Augustus, you’ve got no excuse to be so high and mighty, cocksucker.” The man bolted.
Felix leaped after him—but a retching sound from behind pulled him up short.
Lucretia was on her knees next to one of the bodies, vomiting into the sand.
“Infernal Dis,” Felix hissed. He cast one look at the man fleeing with the amphora—hisamphora—then hurried to Lucretia’s side. He knelt next to her in the sand, strategically putting himself between her and the body to block her view. “Lucretia?”
“Leave me—” Her stomach heaved again. “Alone. Go chase your precious cargo.”
