The Warrior's Bride Prize

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‘I didn’t mean the ramparts. You’re one of only a handful of women in a camp full of soldiers. You shouldn’t be out on your own.’

The implication made her cheeks flush an even brighter shade of pink. The fact that it came from him made it feel even more personal. After all, he was the one she was standing alone with, the one she’d woken up dreaming about...

She tossed her head, pushing that particular memory aside.

‘Do you think so badly of your men, then?’

‘No, but they’re not all my men. I’m sure Nerva will assign you a guard if you want to look around.’

She shuddered at the thought. Another man to watch her, to follow her every footstep and then report back as if she couldn’t be trusted. It would be like living with Julius all over again.

‘No!’ She shook her head adamantly. ‘I’ll take my chances. I’d rather be on my own.’

‘As you wish.’ He scrutinised her face for a few seconds before walking back to the top of the steps and then standing there.

‘What are you doing?’ She stared after him suspiciously. He looked like one of the sentries.

‘Waiting.’

‘For what?’

‘To escort you back to the villa.’

‘I don’t need escorting. I remember the way.’

‘None the less.’

‘I just told you I’d rather be on my own.’

‘So you did.’

She glared at him, seized with a combination of irritation and guilt. He’d caught her off guard—again!—and now she was being rude, unfairly so since he hadn’t done anything to offend her, not really. On the contrary, since they’d met he’d been thoughtful and protective and sensitive too, in a severe kind of way. Even now he was still being thoughtful and protective!

But she was angry, not just at him, but at her whole situation. Somehow he made her feel even more powerless than before. It wasn’t his fault, but if they’d never met then she would only have had Scaevola and Tarquinius to worry about. Without him she wouldn’t have imagined, even for a moment, that her future could have been anything more than a prison.

She heaved a sigh, oppressed by the thought. If only it had been someone else who’d come to greet her! If only it had been someone else who’d defended her the previous evening, too. But it had been him, the only man apart from her father who’d ever stood up for her, who’d put a stop to Scaevola’s insulting behaviour as if he’d been personally offended. Now the fact that she ought to feel grateful made her even more irritated. But it was only right that she thank him.

‘About yesterday evening...’ she strove to sound calmer than she felt ‘...thank you for interrupting when you did. I hope you weren’t in any trouble for it.’

‘No.’

‘Good. I appreciated your help.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I only stated the facts. You and your daughter were tired.’

‘None the less.’

She repeated his words ironically and saw one side of his mouth twitch upwards. It was the first time she’d seen any hint of a smile from him and it made her feel slightly less irritable.

‘Are you going somewhere?’ She gestured at his cloak. ‘You said you were in the stables.’

‘I’m visiting some of the other forts today.’

‘Then you shouldn’t let me detain you. I’m sure you’re eager to be going.’

‘It can wait.’ He gave her a look that suggested the subject wasn’t up for further discussion. ‘I’ll be here until you’re ready, lady.’

She sighed again and leaned forward against the parapet, gazing into the distance, but it was no use. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of a wall on the horizon. Meanwhile, Marius’s refusal to leave was infuriating. Perhaps he was right and she ought to go back, but she refused to be coerced, even for her own good.

‘Have you ever been north of the wall?’ She glanced back over her shoulder at him.

‘Yes.’

‘More than once?’

‘More than once.’

‘More than ten times?’

His lips twitched again. ‘I’ve lost count, lady.’

‘Oh... Have you ever been attacked?’

‘Yes.’

She twisted around fully this time. ‘Do you agree with Scaevola, then? Do you think that Caledonians are all savages?’