An Echo in the Darkness(181)

“I know that, Mother.” Even when he had thought she was dead, Hadassah had been the very air he breathed. “I love her,” he said hoarsely.

“So do I.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “Because we love her, we will treat her with the same care and sensitivity she has always shown us.” She hesitated, knowing what she had to tell him would come as a surprise. “I’ve granted her freedom.”

Marcus turned abruptly. “In writing?” he said in alarm.

“Of course.”

He glanced at Hadassah and saw the small scroll that had fallen onto the marble tiles. “You had no right, Mother!” he said, angry again, afraid.

“You don’t want her to be free?”

“Not yet.”

Phoebe saw clearly. “Ah, I see. She’s not to be free until she’s answered your questions and agreed to whatever demands you might make of her.”

“You think me so callous?”

“At times, you are very callous,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry if this upsets you. I simply did what I felt led to do, Marcus.”

“That document isn’t worth the parchment on which it’s written,” he said in a tone he had often used in business dealings. “Not unless my signature is on it. Legally, Hadassah is my property, not yours.”

Phoebe had nursed him at her breast and was not daunted. “Your father gave Hadassah to me, and I gave her to Julia. Upon Julia’s passing on to the Lord, I felt justified in believing Hadassah mine again. And I have given her the freedom she deserves. Would you rescind that now? What of her feelings?”

“What if she leaves?”

Phoebe smiled in complete understanding and touched his cheek lightly. “You have two legs, Marcus. There’s nothing to stop you from going after her.”





53

Hadassah awakened in the moonlight, still lying comfortably on Phoebe Valerian’s couch. The air was coolly refreshing, the sky a dark indigo blue with sparkling starlight. “The heavens declare your glory and the skies proclaim the work of your hands . . . ,” she whispered as she looked up. She lifted her veils and smiled, gazing up at the beauty of it in wonder, watching the blue lighten. Dawn was coming.

She rose and held her hands up to the Lord in thanksgiving for Julia and Phoebe, both restored. Then she drew the veils down over her face again. Quietly entering the bedchamber, she saw a small brass oil lamp burning on a table. Phoebe was asleep.

Hadassah left the room. She limped along the upper corridor and entered Julia’s chamber. Julia’s bed had been removed and the room scrubbed clean. Except for her own bed, which remained by the wall, the few possessions she had brought with her, and a table on which was a basin and pitcher of water, the room was empty.

Feeling rumpled, Hadassah removed her veils and dark palus. She poured water into a basin and washed, then chose a blue palus to wear, covering her face with the matching veils. She went out onto the balcony to watch the sunrise.

“Your work is done,” Phoebe had said, and Hadassah knew she had no reason to stay. Yet her heart broke at the very thought of leaving. And staying would be worse, infinitely worse.

“She’s ugly,” Marcus had said so long ago in the garden of the Rome villa. It was the first time she had seen him, the first words she had heard him utter. “She’s ugly.” If he had thought her ugly then, what would he think now, scarred as she was, mauled and torn by a lion of Rome?

What would others think if they were to see someone like her standing beside Marcus Lucianus Valerian?

Bowing her head, she struggled with her feelings. If she didn’t do what she knew she must, she would waver, and worse heartache would happen. Turning away, Hadassah went through the archway into Julia’s room. Without stopping, she passed through to the corridor above the peristyle. She went down the steps and out the front door.

It was a long distance to Alexander, but she needed time to settle her mind and put all those things that might have been with Marcus behind her. Her father had often said to commit her work to the Lord. She was trying hard to do just that.

A man she didn’t know answered her knock. “May I speak with Alexander Democedes Amandinus, please?”

The door was drawn back abruptly, and she saw Rashid. “My lady!” he said and shouted for Alexander. “Rapha has returned, my lord!” He caught her up in his arms.

Alexander came running. “You walked all the way?” he said, taking her from Rashid’s arms and striding into the courtyard, where he placed her on a comfortable couch. “Why didn’t you send word to me or come by litter?”

“I didn’t think of it,” she said dully, her head against his shoulder. “I just wanted to get away as quickly as possible.”