The Governor's Man by Jacquie Rogers (best beach reads TXT) 📕

the young girl speak. After a moment or two, Aurelia jumped up, avoiding her aunt’s gaze.

‘It’s just - just been such ages since I saw you. And you know how much I love to visit Aquae Sulis, and …’

This was news to Julia, who understood Aurelia to prefer the soft green hills and marshes of her own lands, and to be much too keen a horsewoman to ever wish for town walls and pavements. She remained silent. Aurelia looked at her, and flushed.

‘Well, I did really wish to see you, and Britta, too.’ This was said with feeling, and Julia realised the girl was on the brink of tears.

‘Nevertheless, dear child, for you to arrive without forewarning and on horseback is unusual.’

Aurelia held her chin up a fraction, and the brimming tears fought with stubborn pride. Julia knew that look, having seen it in her bronze mirror many times during her own girlhood.

‘My dear, I wish you will tell me what is the matter.’ She glanced at Britta, standing calmly in front of the door. ‘Do you want Britta to leave?’

‘Oh, no!’ Aurelia flung herself up and into Britta’s comfortable embrace. ‘Dearest Britta is my best friend, after you, Aunt.  And darling Father. ’ She paused to blow her nose on a scrap of linen twisted out of her robe. ‘I had to come. I had to get away from that woman! And even …from Father.’

Ah, yes. Julia understood. Now that Aurelia was moving towards womanhood, her headstrong personality was bound to clash with the  cold, perfectly-mannered Claudia.

‘Aurelia, it will make your father very unhappy if you quarrel with your stepmother. She only means what is best for you, I am sure.’

The girl stared at Julia, hot tears falling down her face.

‘Means the best for me? By marrying me off to that scheming nephew of hers, that bullying wretch, that cruel monster —that Lucius!’

Julia was astonished and couldn’t find words for a long moment. Britta’s eyebrows shot up, and she took herself out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Aurelia fell into Julia’s arms, weeping openly. ‘Please, Julia, let me stay with you. Don’t make me go back home.’

The girl sobbed while Julia held her close, grim-faced. Marriage at thirteen was not unheard of among the British upper classes. But Julia knew it wasn’t right for Aurelia. And to Lucius Claudius, of all young men? He would break Aurelia’s heart and crush her spirit.

Once she had calmed the girl and got her settled in the guest room, Julia called Britta back. Britta fully understood the special relationship she had with her niece, and knew the hopes Julia had for Aurelia’s future. These did not include a premature marriage to a young man like Lucius.

Julia had several times met Lucius and his father, the fat businessman Claudius Bulbo.  Most often since Bulbo’s sister Claudia, a sophisticated widow from Gaul who moved like a cat and looked like a goddess, had married Marcus. Julia reflected on how quickly the lonely Marcus had been enticed away from his books and into a second marriage. Then she thought again of her soft-spoken cultured brother, left bereft with his baby daughter when her gentle sister-in-law had died a decade ago. It was understandable that he should want company, a hostess to welcome the guests and supporters a Magistrate inevitably attracts. And a mother to help bring up his little girl as the heiress to a large, prosperous estate.

‘Aurelia can’t stay here more than a night or two, I’m afraid. It looks like things are not right at Bo Gwelt. No point in writing to Marcus. I’ll have to go myself, and it’s only proper that I take Aurelia with me. I’ll send Rufus straight back to Bo Gwelt with a quick note, put their minds at rest till we can get there. I need to talk to Anicius Piso and leave some directions for the orderlies at the clinic first.’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘I hate to bother Marcus when he’s not well, but it can’t be helped now. Actually I’d like to see how he’s doing. I’ll try to persuade him to let Aurelia come back to visit us for a few weeks. With his official approval this time, and enough luggage to clothe the girl.’

Britta nodded in agreement.

Chapter Five

The rain was easing on their third day of travel as Quintus and Tiro entered Calleva Atrebatum, passing a cluster of round temples near the east gate. Weak gleams of sunlight shone fitfully onto puddles. Tiro squinted round. A reasonable enough town, but nothing like Londinium.  Tiro’s forebears came from Kent, but his family long ago cast in their lot with the bustling new city on Tamesis. Within a generation they had forgotten they had ever lived anywhere else. Londinium was surely the greatest city in the Roman world, and Tiro couldn’t wait to get back.

Home for tonight was a large white-washed mansio, with a range of stables off to one side. The building was substantial and clearly busy. Water dripped slowly off the thatched eaves. No bathhouse, seemingly. You can bloody stick the countryside. He was disgusted.

‘Stop day-dreaming, Tiro. Take these horses round to the stables. I’ll see to our rooms.’ Quintus swung down off his horse and pushed his way past a party of civil servants arguing with a serving man over their accommodation. Tiro was tired and bad-tempered. He didn’t need reminding by anyone how to look after horses. He led the mounts into the muddy stableyard, his mind working on ways to make it clear to his new boss who was in charge of this trip. Who does he think he is? This is still my parish, even this far from Londinium. I’ll show him.

Quintus found the innkeeper dashing around with a tray of wine and beakers, shouting at his staff. It was