'But I thought your father retained control over you. Couldn't you have just divorced him?'

'My father would not listen. He thought I was being hysterical. Lucius was always polite to him.'

'But not to you.'

'In private? Never. He has a quick temper for those who cross him.' Julia's throat started to close again. She forced her back straighter. 'I disgusted him—too many curves.'

Valens was at her side, gathering her into his arms. He cradled her, stroked her hair, smoothed it away from her face.

'Why did you divorce?' he asked.

'One evening after the baths, I walked in and found him in our bed…with a boy. He beat me and I finally snapped. I could not stay in that house, so I walked out.' Julia pressed her hands together. There was no need to tell Valens the entire sordid story. 'I had had enough of the gilded prison. On this occasion, Sabina was in Ostia, visiting friends, and my father believed me. He wasn't happy about it, but I was able to divorce Lucius with my father's blessing.'

She waited to hear what Valens would say, but he looked at her with an inscrutable expression.

'I'm sorry,' she said, tightening the ends of the blanket around her shoulders and trying to swallow the lump in her throat. 'I'll go now.'

'Julia, I want to make love with you, but not like this.' His voice was strained.

Julia gave a small nod of her head. Perhaps this was for the best. She refused to beg. 'You're being sensible.'

The corners of his eyes crinkled. 'Not sensible, selfish. I want to have the time to show how it should be done properly. I can see the first faint streaks of dawn.'

'Until some other time,' she said, intending to sweep away, intending there would be no next time.

He caught her arm and pulled her close. She felt the hardness of his body and knew, if she stayed one heartbeat longer, she'd lose all her dignity and beg. He put his hand to his mouth, then his finger traced the outline of her lips.

'Until the next time.'


Chapter Eight


Sunlight streamed through Julia's window when she opened her eyes. The pounding in her head echoed the pounding on the door.

'I know you are in there, Julia, wake up!'

Claudia. Julia flopped against her pillow, wondering at the time. How late had she slept? The sun from the window had reached the bottom of her bed. Most days, she dressed before it crept over the window ledge.

She remembered lying awake for ages, going over the time with Valens, detail by detail, wondering, if she hadn't pulled back, whether they would have become lovers. But she must have drifted off.

She turned her head and saw a white rose, lying on her pillow. When had he left that there? Her fingers touched the petals, and she wondered at the meaning of the gift. Cupid gave a white rose to Harpocrates, the god of silence, to keep him from betraying Venus and her love affairs. Did it have to do with passion or was it a request that she keep silent about his life's story? She tapped the rose against her teem.

'Julia!' Claudia cried again. 'Are you coming out or am I coming in? You can tell whatever man you have hidden under your bed to leave by the window.'

Julia pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. Claudia's joke caused her body to tingle. What would it be like to have Valens in her bedroom and to experience his kisses again?

'Since when do I have a man in my bedroom?' Julia called, struggling to keep her voice light as she hurriedly placed the rose on her dressing table.

The door crashed opened and Claudia swept in, face perfectly made up and a gown of the finest green wool clinging to her every curve.

'I'd have a man in my room if I could,' she said with an impish laugh. 'I'd start with that gladiator of yours. By Hercules, he has broad shoulders. And his legs! Imagine how safe a woman must feel in his arms.'

Julia stood up and concentrated on dressing, wishing she dared wear something as suggestive as Claudia's gown and settling instead for a tawny gown and matching shawl and stola.

'He's hardly my gladiator,' she protested, wondering how many times she would need to deny it.

The lifted eyebrow from Claudia signalled she had waited too long before making her protest. Julia tightened her belt just under her breasts. The last thing she wanted was more gossip, more scandal. The story about the brawl over Bato was starting to die down, but at least three people had questioned her about it at the baths yesterday.

'Please believe me…'

'Julia, I'm teasing you,' Claudia said, laying her hand on Julia's shoulder. 'You are such fun—you take everything seriously.'

Julia shifted under Claudia's gaze. She grabbed a pot of red wine dregs and started applying it to her cheeks with fierce short stabs of the brush.

'I told you what my father said. Even a little joke like that could send him back into the arms and plans of Sabina. He says he has told Mettalius "no". Am I to believe him? Sabina kept on and on at him at dinner. She wants him to agree to the betrothal as soon as possible. She has apparently asked the augur at Juno's temple and he believes the omens are right, but my father wishes to consult Caesar's augur. Mettalius tends to align himself with the older senators, rather than Caesar, so there is a slim chance that the augur might read the signs differently.'

Claudia leant forward and tapped a bit of the wine dregs off Julia's left cheek.

'If it is anything like the situation at my brother's house, you barely see the gladiator. I fail to understand why you are making my light-hearted remark seem like the fatal blow in a hard-fought campaign. Your father heard rumours. All of Rome has. The betting is heavy on which one will win come the games.'

' Valens rescued Bato. You were there. I have scarcely seen him after that episode.' Julia set the brush down with a trembling hand. She knew if she continued to try to apply her make-up, she'd look like one of the mimes from the theatre. 'He's nothing special.'

Claudia pursed her mouth and raised an eyebrow. Julia had the sinking thought that perhaps she had overdone the denials and Claudia had reached her own conclusion.

"Then I guess you have more pressing plans than going to watch the gladiators train with me. It is a full practice today at the Circus Maximus. The opening of the games is but a week away and Caesar wants to take a measure of his gladiators' preparedness.'

A shiver ran through Julia. To see Valens so soon after their late-night encounter. Her heart pounded in her ears. She had to go.

'If you need someone…' Julia said, toying with a pot of face cream.

'Good, it's settled then. We'll leave as soon as you have finished with your face,' Claudia said, clapping her hands and sending Bato scurrying under the bed. 'This time we will leave Bato with your porter, Clodius—to be on the safe side. Your reputation might not survive another brawl.'

'I never said I'd go.' Julia fastened a string of blue beads around her neck and slipped two gold bracelets on her right wrist, then contemplated her face. How could she apply the extra make-up to ensure she looked stunning without Claudia guessing the reason? 'There is plenty of spinning I should be getting on with, and several scrolls I wanted to read.'

'But you need to go. You must want to feast your eyes on the gladiators up close. Valens is not the only one with broad shoulders. When the games start, the gladiators will look like ants from where we have to stand. The only way you will be able to tell who they are is from their helmets.'

'Who said I was going to the games?' Julia's stomach twisted as if it were thread on a spindle. How could she sit and watch Valens fight, possibly to the death? 'There are a number of things I should be doing, like supervising the making of the new blankets.'

Claudia's mouth dropped open and her hands fell to her sides. Who was the one who disliked being teased? Julia resisted the urge to point this out.

'Julia, you can't say that spinning is more attractive than watching the games. You know some of the top gladiators, now. I'm counting on you.'

'One of the gladiators,' Julia corrected and tried to erase the image of Valens bleeding on the ground from her mind. A chill went through her.

'I still have a few days to convince you otherwise. I am determined to make a supporter of you. Say you'll come today,' Claudia looked at her with pleading eyes. 'It will give you something more to talk about…whenever you chance to meet him.'

Julia picked up a clean brush and started to dust her eyelids with powdered oyster shell, giving her eyes a luminous glow.

'Claudia, do you think any of the gladiators are Roman?' she asked finally, putting one last dab on.

Claudia frowned. 'They are mostly slaves. There might be one or two ex-criminals or maybe a man so down on his luck and deep in debt that he became a contract gladiator. But rumours of any patricians being gladiators are products of the playwrights' imaginations. Nobody becomes a gladiator without a good reason. Why?'

'I wondered about their backgrounds. That's all.' Julia tossed her shawl over her head and carefully arranged the folds. She made a face in her mirror before setting it down on her bedroom table.

'Gladiators are for feasting your eyes on,' Claudia said with a knowing expression on her face, 'and other parts if you are lucky. Their backgrounds are of little concern. They are symbols, not people.'

"They are people. Valens—'

'Even your gladiator, Julia,' Claudia said sternly. 'Don't you think you are fooling me with your oh-so-casual approach. This is the first time I've seen you spend that much time over your make-up since before you married Lucius.'