Celtic Fire(38)

Marcus shot him a fearful glance and dove under the table to retrieve the tablet.

“Marcus,” Lucius said.

Marcus jerked his head around and it hit the underside of the table with a crack. He sucked in a breath and emerged slowly, clutching the tablet like a lifeline. Rising to his feet, he placed it on the table with exaggerated care.

“Marcus, come to me,” Lucius commanded. Marcus stiffened as though he feared his father would run him through with his sword.

Rhiannon stepped between them. Lucius’s startled gaze focused on her. “Stand aside,” he said.

“No.” Behind her, Marcus gasped. She held out her palm and offered Lucius the knucklebones. “I would see you perform the feat of which you boast.”

His expression turned as dark as a thundercloud. “Very well.”

She dropped the bones into his palm and retreated to Marcus’s side. Lucius weighed the set in his hand. When he looked up, his expression was inscrutable. “What is learned as a child is seldom forgotten.”

With a swift flick of his wrist, he sent the bones aloft. His palm flipped downward. All five knucklebones landed, neatly balanced, on the back of his hand.

Marcus gave a gasp of delight. Lucius’s opposite palm closed over the bones. Retrieving a pouch from the floor, he slid the pieces inside and handed the bag to Marcus. “Put this room in order and return to your studies.”

The lad took the bag, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “At once, Father.”

Lucius turned to Rhiannon. “Come.”

She shot a sidelong glance at Marcus. “No. I’ll stay and help Marcus tidy the room.”

Marcus made a strangled sound. Rhiannon snorted. Did no one ever contradict Lucius? If not, it was time someone did.

Lucius fixed Rhiannon with a glare that would have caused even the most battle-hardened soldier to drop to his knees. And indeed, Rhiannon did drop to her knees, but not to cower. She began gathering the scattered Robbers pieces.

Lucius grasped her by the elbow and hauled her back to her feet. The game tiles she held clattered to the floor. “Come,” he repeated in a tone that brooked no defiance.

He propelled her out the door. When it had shut behind them, Rhiannon wrenched her arm from Lucius’s grip. “What are you about? You scared Marcus half to death.”

Lucius shot her a dark glance. “I only wish you were as easy to frighten. Why were you disturbing my son’s studies?”

“He sought me out.” She strode past him into the courtyard. The rain had lightened. Only a few stray drops stirred the puddles.

She stopped at the edge of the fountain. Lucius came to a halt behind her, not touching, but so close she could smell the musk of the day’s exertion on his skin. Warmth pooled low in her belly. He set one hand on her shoulder and an odd restlessness shot through her. Feigning nonchalance, she moved away, breaking the contact.

“The boy needs to attend his studies,” Lucius said.

“He needs a father more. Especially since he has lost his mother.” She sank down onto the stone bench and dabbled her fingertips in the water. A measure of the Great Mother’s calm flowed into her, enough that she dared a look into Lucius’s eyes.

She saw sorrow there, and regret, before his gaze shuttered. “Demetrius thought the journey north might turn Marcus’s mind from his mother’s death.” He bent and picked up a pebble that had strayed from the path to nestle in the dirt. “He was very attached to her.” He tossed the pebble from hand to hand, not meeting her gaze.

“Yet she lay with another man while you were at war. She died bearing his child.”

He started. The pebble glanced off his arm and plunked into the pool, splattering water over the edge. “Marcus told you that?”

“No. He’s far too innocent. He told me only that you’d been gone more than a year before the babe’s birth.”

“Another reason why I consented to bring Marcus to Britannia,” Lucius said. “Rome is a city built as much of gossip and rumor as it is of stone. Sooner or later Marcus would have realized the truth. I would rather his memory of Julia be unsullied, at least while he is young.”

“Even after she shamed you?”

Lucius shrugged. “I hadn’t visited my wife’s bed since before Marcus’s birth and Jupiter knows I was not celibate all that time. I could hardly expect Julia to comport herself like a Vestal in a city where bed partners change more frequently than the weather.” He met Rhiannon’s gaze. “But I did expect her to use whatever means necessary to avoid bearing a bastard.”

“Oh.” She kept her eyes fixed on the surface of the pool. “Did you not love her?”