The Warrior's Bride Prize

‘Is he unwell?’

The few heartbeats it took for him to answer told her the truth before he did.

‘No, lady.’

‘Oh.’

She felt the last vestige of hope crumble away. If Lucius Scaevola wasn’t away or unwell, then it seemed he had no desire to come and meet her himself. The thought was depressing even if not unexpected... Well, she’d wanted to know what he thought of their union and now she did. Apparently he was just as enthusiastic about it as she was.

But at least she was there, she thought with a renewed burst of anger. She was the one who’d come all this way, doing her duty to her family, which in her case meant following Tarquinius’s orders. Scaevola might at least have come to greet her. Just when she’d thought she couldn’t be any more humiliated! Only now that she’d made herself a hole, she seemed unable to stop digging...

‘What is he like?’

‘Lady?’ The tone of the Centurion’s voice conveyed a distinct reluctance to answer.

‘Scaevola. We never had a chance to meet in Lindum. I’d like to know what kind of a man he is.’

The jaw muscles tightened again. ‘I can’t say.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’

She surprised herself with the question. She was being too insistent, too demanding, but her nerves were stretched almost to breaking point and she couldn’t seem to help herself. She didn’t care what this Centurion thought of her now. His very reluctance to answer was alarming. Surely he could tell her something. Anything! Even Scaevola’s hair colour would be a start.

‘It’s not my place to answer, lady. He’s a senior officer, a tribune.’

‘A tribune?’

She stopped so abruptly that he was a few paces ahead before he noticed. She’d assumed that her new husband must be a man of rank for Tarquinius to want an alliance, but Tribunes outranked every Centurion in the army. Only the Legate ranked above them.

‘But I thought he’d only just joined the army?’

‘He has.’ If she wasn’t mistaken, his lip curled slightly. ‘But he has good family connections. Men like that don’t enter in the ranks. Or fight much either.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

She put a hand to her head, thoughts whirling. Not just a tribune, but a senatorial one, too? Such a man was more than a few steps above her on the social scale, more like a whole ladder away. The debt to her half-brother must be huge indeed for him to accept her as a bride, but what exactly did Tarquinius want from him? What was her half-brother planning?

She twisted her face to one side, vividly aware of the Centurion’s stern gaze. They’d climbed out of the woodland while they’d been talking on to a plateau overlooking the rugged moorland to the north. The landscape in this part of the country was noticeably wilder than the flatter marshlands around Lindum, with jagged crags and rocky outcrops dotting a spartan terrain that seemed particularly suited to the man beside her.

On any other day she might have admired it. Today she felt as if a black cloud had passed over the sun, obscuring any warmth or beauty and making her feel powerless and vulnerable, like one of the reedy-looking trees clutching the sides of those same rocky outcrops, holding on for dear life in a wind-battered world that offered no respite. She’d as good as voiced her fears about her future husband out loud and this Centurion’s answers had only confirmed the worst. As grateful as she was for his honesty, she didn’t think her spirits could sink any lower.

‘Perhaps I ought to go back to the carriage after all.’ She felt a sudden, overpowering urge to get away from him.

‘Very well.’ He hesitated briefly before continuing. ‘He’s young, lady. He has a lot to learn, that’s all.’

She bit her lip, fighting the impulse to laugh. Not a demure, ladylike laugh, but a hysterical, high-pitched scream of a laugh, one that would vent all her rage and frustration and probably convince him that she was mad, too. He was trying to placate her, she could tell, using the same tone she’d been using all this time to reassure Porcia, but there was nothing reassuring about it.

A lot to learn... What could that mean except that she was going to marry a boy after all? How would a boy react when h

e saw her? In marital terms, she was ten years past her prime. More important, how would he react to Julia? She only hoped that Tarquinius had told him about her in advance, though surely he had... If nothing else, surely he would have mentioned her daughter?

She gave a curt nod, not trusting herself to speak as she turned and made her way hastily back to the carriage. She didn’t want to look at him any longer—him or any other man. All she wanted was to be left alone, to be a widow and mother, to find a place to belong and to raise her daughter in peace. Was that so much to ask?

Yes.

She knew the answer because Tarquinius had made it clear to her before she’d left Lindum. No matter what kind of man was waiting for her in Coria, she had to go ahead with the marriage. She had no freedom, no money and no choice. She had to do what her half-brother ordered or he’d cast her and Julia off from his protection for ever. She was heading for the northernmost frontier of the Roman Empire, to the very border with her mother’s homeland—one of the many facts she was specifically forbidden to mention—to the place she’d spent her whole life wanting to see and now dreaded the sight of. There was no turning back and nowhere else to go. Worse than that, there wasn’t the slightest hope of escape.

Chapter Three