Tabula Rasa(124)

“Good,” said Ruso again, with less confidence. The broad smile of approval from Virana did nothing to restore it.

He promised to join Albanus for lunch just as soon as he had had a nap, but lunch was long gone by the time he woke up again, and it was halfway through the afternoon. Tilla arrived carrying a bowl of warm water and a towel and announced that everything was ready. She told him that all he had to do was wash, get dressed, and turn up. By way of encouragement, she whipped off all the bedclothes and began rummaging about in a trunk for clean clothes.

He had a worrying suspicion that he knew what she was talking about and that he had agreed to it yesterday under the cheering influence of the poppy. Rather than risk a direct question, he tried, “Remind me of what I did for Daminius.”

She pulled his best cream tunic out of the trunk and flapped it vigorously to get rid of the creases. “You have kindly lent him the money to buy Fabius’s kitchen maid. It is very good of you.”

“But I haven’t got any money! If I had, I’d spend it on a kitchen maid of my own.”

She eyed him over the top of the tunic.

“That didn’t sound quite how I intended.”

“You do not have money, but Serena has arrived to visit her father and she always has plenty of money because her father says she does not deserve to live like a doctor’s wife.”

“So, in effect, Valens’s wife has lent money to a man she doesn’t know in order for him to buy the slave he was having an affair with?”

“No. She has lent it to you to buy a horse. You have lent it to Daminius.”

Ruso groaned. “Is there anything else I’ve done that I should know about?”

“I did ask you,” she said. “You said yes.”

“Was I full of poppy?”

“You do remember that we are to have the wedding blessing this afternoon?”

He rolled over to put his feet on the floor so she could not see his face. “Of course. But I don’t feel up to a big fuss.”

“Just the family and a few friends. I shall be there waiting for you. I will ask Conn to fetch you in the cart.”

He did not want to spend time with Conn. “I’ll walk.”

“It’s raining.”

“I know.”



Ruso suspected he and Albanus made a comical pairing as they limped down the farm track in the rain, one leaning on a stick to support a bandaged ankle and the other shuffling along as if he had aged forty years in the last couple of days. Still, he was glad of the opportunity for an uninterrupted conversation about Albanus’s lost nephew, who had failed to realize the danger he was in once he had recognized a runaway slave who did not want to be caught.

When he had finished, Albanus was silent. They separated to skirt around opposite sides of a puddle. Albanus said, “All this has caused you a great deal of trouble, sir.”

Ruso opened his mouth to assure him it was no trouble at all, but the words would not make their way past the dull ache in his jaw. Instead he said, “If he were my nephew, I’m sure you’d have done the same.” Albanus, without the distraction of Tilla, would probably have dealt with it in a much more professional manner. He said, “I’m sorry it ended the way it did.”

“Thank you, sir.” But Albanus had further apologies to make. He seemed to think he was entirely responsible for the ghost escapade, since he had failed to strangle the plan at birth, and when it all went wrong—as he had anticipated—he had then sat nursing a sprained ankle and sent Tilla off into the night alone.

“I thought it was a bad idea from the start, sir, but your wife was very keen, and I thought I’d better try and help. But I didn’t.”

“Don’t worry,” Ruso assured him. “I know how persuasive my wife can be.” He squinted through the drizzle, assessing how much farther they had to walk. “I hope you don’t mind coming to a thing like this when you’ve just had bad news.”

“That’s quite all right, sir. I’m glad to be asked. Weddings are always cheerful.”

Something else occurred to Ruso as they passed the leaf-spattered fork in the track and turned in amongst the trees. “You never did tell me what happened to—”

“Hah!” interrupted Albanus, as if he did not want Grata’s name mentioned. “A fat old merchant flaunted his moneybags in front of her, sir.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“She seemed to think he wouldn’t last long. She promised to marry me next, but I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.”

Ruso doubted that the fat old merchant would have liked it much, either. He said, “I’m glad you’re here.”