An Echo in the Darkness(17)

“You deliberately shocked her! You were rude!” she said later in their upstairs apartment.

“Why should I concern myself with the feelings of a traditionalist?”

“She’s my mother!”

Calabah arched her brow at Julia’s imperious tone. “I don’t care who she is.”

Julia stared into the cold blackness of Calabah’s eyes, fathomless as a dark, bottomless pit. “Do you care at all about me and my feelings in the matter?”

“You ask foolish questions and make unwarranted demands. I will not suffer her presence in order to please you. You are indulged by me enough as it is.”

“Indulged? Is it indulgence to show common courtesy to the only relative I have who speaks to me?”

“Who are you to question me? You were nothing but a foolish, naive child when I met you in Rome. You didn’t even know your potential. I guided you and taught you. I opened your eyes to the pleasures of this world and you’ve been drunk with them ever since. It is I who deserve your loyalty, not some woman who by accident of biology gave birth to you!” Calabah glared at her with chilling intensity. “Who is this mother? How important is she when measured against me? She is a narrow-minded, backward-thinking fool who has never approved of the love we have for one another. She looks upon me as a foul, anomalous creature who has corrupted her daughter. She suffers me in order to see you. I tell you, she pollutes the air I breathe just as your little Christian slave did. I despise her and all those like her, and you should as well. They should be made to bow down before me.”

Julia shuddered now as she remembered Calabah’s face, grotesque with hatred and rage. Calabah had quickly regained her composure, but Julia was left shaken, wondering if the smooth, smiling face was but a mask to Calabah’s true nature.

As the chair was lowered, Julia drew the curtain aside and looked up at the marble wall and stairway. She had not come back to this villa since her father had died. A wave of longing swept over her at the thought of him, and she blinked back tears. “I need help,” she said hoarsely and held out her hand. Without expression, Jannes assisted her from the chair.

She looked up at the marble steps, feeling weary. She stood for a long moment, gathering her strength and then began the climb to her mother’s villa. When she reached the top, she dabbed the perspiration from her face before she pulled the cord. “You may go back and wait with the others,” she told Jannes and was relieved when he left her. She didn’t want a slave present should she be humiliated and turned away by her own family.

Iulius opened the door, his homely face taking on an expression of surprise. “Lady Julia, your mother was not expecting you.”

Julia lifted her chin. “Does a daughter need an appointment to see her mother?” she said and stepped past him into the cool antechamber.

“No, my lady, of course not. But your mother is not here.”

Julia turned and looked at him. “Where is she?” she said, disappointment tingeing her voice with impatience.

“She’s taking clothing to several widows who have come to her attention.”

“Widows?”

“Yes, my lady. Their husbands worked for your father and brother. Lady Phoebe has taken it upon herself to provide for them.”

“Let their children provide for them!”

“Two have children too young to work. Another’s son is with the Roman army in Gaul. And the others—”

“Never mind,” Julia said. “I don’t care about them.” The last thing she had come for was to hear the troubles of others when her own were so burdensome. “When will she return?”

“She usually returns at dusk.”

Utterly dejected, Julia wanted to weep. She couldn’t wait that long. Dusk was hours away yet, and Calabah would want to know why she was so long in returning from the haruspex. If she admitted she had come to see her mother, she risked Calabah’s further displeasure.

She pressed her fingers against her throbbing temples.

“You look pale, my lady,” Iulius said. “Would you like some refreshment?”

“Wine,” she said, “and I’ll have it in the peristyle.”

“As you wish.”

She walked along the marble corridor and went beneath one of the arches. She sat in the small alcove on the far side. Her heart beat fast, as though she had been running. She had sat here the day her father died, crying inconsolably while the others had gathered around him. She hadn’t been able to bear seeing him so emaciated with illness, his sunken eyes full of pain and sorrow. She hadn’t been able to face his disappointment in life. In her.