Courted Read online

  Courted

  By Sylvia Ketrie

  Published by Stump House Publishing at Smashwords

  Copyright 2014 Sylvia Ketrie

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  Gallia Lugdunensis, 111 AD

  Anthea Vitruvia was happy--happier than she had been for more than three years. Her nasty, protracted divorce from her second husband was finally over. Her first divorce had been an amicable walk to the aqueduct, and she hadn’t been mentally or emotionally prepared for the nightmare Titus Herennius Manlius would put her through when she left him. Roman citizen or no, the man was a duplicitous pig. The last time she had been so relieved to get to the end of something she had been giving birth.

  Lighting the imported beeswax tapers used only when company was coming, Anthea said a small prayer of thanksgiving to Juno that she had never become pregnant by Titus. When she first married him, she had hoped to have another child. The three children from her first marriage were growing up, and she wanted to enjoy a baby again. Nevertheless, after a few months with Titus, she had started using a contraceptive pessary; no child should be burdened with such an ass for a father.

  She looked around the room that served as her atrium, dining room, and office. Her apartment was large, occupying two thirds of the first floor of the apartment building she owned, but it was not a grand villa by any means. The mosaic that decorated the back wall of the room, however, was good enough to be in any rich man’s house. She had certainly paid enough for it. It was worth it to show the world the success she had made as a perfumer and landlord.

  By Roman standards her insula was not large, only three stories high, but those three stories were perfect in her opinion. Too tall, and people would mistake it for one of those rat-infested death traps that rose like boils all over larger cities. Too short, and it would look old and thus give the impression of being shabby. This building, with its flower boxes and back walled garden and fresh paint, looked like exactly what it was; a place for upper-middle class families to live in decently sized rooms instead of in the squalor and darkness of bigger insulae.

  She could hear Chloris fussing nervously at Doccia in the kitchen, where they were preparing dinner. Chloris always got in a tizzy when she was cooking for anyone but the family. Anthea’s only manservant, Chloris’s teenage son Machaon, finished moving one of the small folding tables closer to left hand dining couch, and then hurried away to help his mother. He was serving dinner tonight, and was unusually anxious himself because of the importance of their guest.

  Anthea’s lawyer, and with any luck her soon-to-be lover, was a man of rising distinction. She had hired Lucillus Equitus Luccianius to represent her in her lawsuit to recover her dowry because he was the most successful and well-known lawyer in Lugdunum. His fees had drained the majority of her savings, but she decided it was worth it to get back her much more valuable dowry. Even if it had ultimately cost her more than she won, it was well spent if it made her ex-husband Titus eat dirt in court.

  When she had initially met Lucillus in his offices, she could not understand how he had earned his reputation in court or had impressed his powerful patron. He was a tall, thin man, with limbs long enough to make him seem clownish when he stood up—awkwardly--to greet her. Neither did she think he was handsome. His face narrowed down from his high, broad forehead too sharply, and his cheekbones, chin, and nose were all a little too prominent for him to be comely. He looked nothing like the beautiful and elegant men who were typically given preferential treatment by court and country.

  Only his aquamarine eyes and red-gold hair could be considered beautiful by Roman standards. Deeply set under straight brows and shaded by thick lashes, his eyes were almost the color of blue topaz, and just as clear, but with a soft green undertone to them; they were nearly the exact same color as the summer sea off the coast of Narbonensis in southern Gaul. His gingery hair, a smidgeon longer than was fashionable and with a slight curl, made them even more noticeable. His eyes were so lovely that they gave his whole visage a deceptive appearance of attractiveness. After speaking with him for an hour or so, Anthea had reevaluated and had decided he was better looking than she had given him credit for at first glance.

  It must have been his voice. It was as smooth as a good wine, deep and gentle but with a rumble underneath it she could almost feel. He spoke to her only of the most matter-of-fact aspects of her case, but every word rolled over her like buttery seduction. By the time she had left his office she knew she wanted to have an affair with him, preferably one with strange and exciting new kinds of sex, as soon as she was no longer paying his legal fees.

  What she hadn’t known was that Titus would be such a pain in her gluteus maximus that the case would be tied up in court for more than a year. Those months had only whetted her appetite for Lucillus, until she felt positively ravenous at the thought of him. She had spent the year anxiously crossing her fingers that he wouldn’t remarry before she was free to try to lure him into her bed, or onto her couch, or even into taking her standing up while braced against a convenient wall.

  As though her daydreaming had summoned him, Machaon announced that Lucillus had arrived. While the lawyer was changing from his street shoes to the special house slippers worn indoors, Anthea checked the drape of her gown a final time. She even fiddled a bit with her pearls, making sure the looped strand was lying correctly across her breasts. The pearls were her mother’s and a part of the dowry that Lucillus had helped her reclaim, and she wanted him to see how much she appreciated his victory on her behalf.

  Lucillus also seemed to have taken particular care with his appearance. He was clearly fresh from the baths, and had worn a toga over his tunic to indicate the importance of this visit. Anthea had previously suspected he was interested in her, but hadn’t been entirely sure. The toga was a very good sign her suspicions had been correct.

  The lawyer strode toward her and she noticed again how clumsy his gait seemed in contrast to the way he moved in court. When he spoke before the magistrates, every gesture, step, and posture had the controlled yet powerful grace of a racing horse. Outside of the courtroom, he moved more like newborn colt trying to figure out how walk. She wondered whether he was as nimble in the bedroom as he was in front of a jury, but wasn’t worried about it either way since she found his awkwardness oddly endearing.

  “Anthea, thank you for inviting me for dinner.” Lucillus took her hands in his and leaned down to kiss her on both cheeks in greeting.

  “It is I who thank you for coming, Lucillus. I know what a busy schedule you have.” His bony grip engulfed her hands, and when he leaned close to her she could smell the expensive blend of fragrances from his bath oil. Spicy, rather than a citrus or floral, it was a scent used by men who were attempting to woo a lover.

  She could have danced with glee. She was wearing a blend of rose and cinnamon perfume for the same reason. Without saying a word, they had both announced their willingness to have a tryst, or perhaps even a longer term affair.

  “Nothing is more important than supper with a beautiful lady,” he assured her.

  His slow, knowing smile caused her body to tighten in anticipation. Sweet Venus, she hoped he made his move sooner rather than later after they ate. She was already turned on enough to skip foreplay and let him bang her like a drum, and that was simply from the way he curved his mouth. His delectable mouth with its crisply defined upper lip an
d plump, pouting lower lip that begged to be nibbled on.

  Her cunna was going to burst into flames before hors d’oeuvres.

  “You flatter me.” She looked up at him from under her lashes flirtatiously, and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow so he could escort her the measly six steps to the dining couches.

  “It isn’t flattery if it’s the truth.” He flirted shamelessly.

  She gave him a smile she hoped was alluring. “Your words are coated in enough honey to frighten bees, but luckily for you I am partial to sweets. I simply love desserts made with honey. I’ve had one prepared for tonight.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I am partial to sweets as well. There is something about the way honey lingers on the tongue that makes it so,” he paused, “enjoyable.”

  Just thinking about his tongue in connection to the word lingering is going to make me come, she thought a little wildly.

  She struggled to keep her face composed yet coquettish. She wanted him to know she was receptive to advances, not to frighten him off as some sort of voracious lust-monster, even if voracious lust-monster was a fairly apt description of her current state.

  “Well, we will get to dessert much faster if we start the first course. Shall we share a supper couch or use both triclinia, do you think?” She asked.

  “For myself, I find that sharing a supper couch with one’s host is better on occasions when one is the only guest. It seems more suitable for intimate dining.” He put a slight emphasis on the word intimate that shot straight to her groin.

  “Then we should certainly share a couch, after all we have been through together.” She agreed.

  A gentleman, Lucillus assisted her to recline before he lay on the opposite side of the triclinium, propped on one elbow and facing her. He was polite enough to maintain the proper distance, which Anthea thought was a positive sign of respect for her on his part. She may have been eager for him, but if he started his lovemaking too soon in the evening it would imply something insulting about the value of what he was seeking.

  Doccia came over with a pitcher of watered wine, which she handed to Machaon. The young server took the pitcher and filled the goblets that stood on small tables on both sides of the couch. It was far classier to have a male server at the table, and Machaon was doing his best to look more experienced than he was.

  “I hope you like the wine.” Anthea said politely to her former lawyer. “It is one of the darker varieties, and not everyone finds them as enjoyable as I do. We have several different kinds if this one is not to your taste.”

  Lucillus took a sip, and tasted it thoughtfully. “I’ve never had this particular vintage before, but I like it.” He smiled. “I’ll have to order some for my table also. You have a gift for wines, Anthea.”

  She beamed under his praise. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to choose wines freely again. Titus complained bitterly about anything new I had brought into the house.”

  Oh shit, did I just mention my ex-husband to the man I am trying to seduce? She kept smiling, but internally Anthea was beating her head repeatedly against the fulcra of the couch.

  “Titus,” Lucillus told her, holding her gaze with his remarkable eyes, “was an idiot about so many things, how could you possibly remember all of them?”

  Relieved she hadn’t ruined the mood, Anthea answered. “I made a list of the ways he wasn’t an idiot. It is simpler to remember three things than a thousand.”

  Lucillus gave a small puff of laughter. “As many as three?”

  Anthea did her best to look like a paragon of matronhood. “I tried to be generous, as befitting a woman.”

  Cocking an eyebrow at her, her dinner date said, “Yes, I am sure you are as generous about a fool’s faults as you are docile in trade.”

  She dimpled at Lucillus, pleased as ever that his sense of humor meshed so well with hers. “I’m often described as meek, I believe.”

  Lucillus nodded solemnly. “Yes. I’ve heard as much. I know your competitors think of you as a veritable pushover. Anthea the Meek; that’s what they call you.”

  Fluttering her lashes, Anthea told him, “I’m sure you know how it is. When one is shy one is often a target. Your retiring nature has made oratory very difficult for you, I gather.”

  “Oh yes, very.” Since he was known even in Rome for the force and venom of his rhetoric in court, Lucillus’s eyes twinkled.

  Machaon reappeared beside the couch. “Excuse me, milady. The first course is ready if you would like it now.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.” She nodded to the boy.

  Machaon bowed and ducked back into the kitchen, quickly returning with a slender rectangular tray covered with a variety of small plates, platters, and bowls. Doccia followed him bearing perfumed wet cloths so that Anthea and Lucillus could wash their hands as customary. When their ablutions were complete, Machaon laid the tray of finger foods and sauces on the couch between them.

  “It looks delicious, Anthea.” Her date complimented her. “Olives stuffed with Nemausus cheese is one of my favorite dishes.”

  “That’s yet another thing we have in common.” Anthea noted gaily.

  ****

  After dessert was cleared away and Machaon dismissed, Anthea and Lucillus lay together on the couch sipping after dinner wine. Their talk had grown more personal, and more thoughtful.

  Lucillus put his goblet on the side table and turned back to look at Anthea, his face serious.

  “Can I ask you a question?” His ocean-colored eyes looked at her earnestly.

  “Of course,” she replied. She was a bit worried; what could have made him so solemn?

  “Why did you marry a culus like Titus?” He seemed to genuinely want to know.

  Anthea took a deep breath and let it out slowly, composing her thoughts. “I’ve wondered that myself.”

  “Is it too personal a question to ask?” His voice was kind.

  She shook her head. “No, just hard to put into words that don’t make me seem like a complete ninny.” She placed her own glass on a side table before continuing.

  “I think it was probably because I was more bothered than I would admit by my first husband’s remarriage. Decimus and I never had feelings for each other beyond respect and friendship, so his request for a divorce wasn’t heartbreaking or anything, but it was still a shock. Seventeen years is a long time to be someone’s wife, and it takes some time to get used to the change.”

  “Thankfully, the whole divorce was done amicably. Decimus is a good man. Although he is the only one with any legal rights to the children, he has always allowed me to see our sons freely and has even allowed our daughter Annia to live with me until she gets married next year. He turned over my dowry without a peep and has always treated me with nothing but courtesy. I have no criticisms of Decimus, but his decency didn’t make me feel better when he married a woman only five years older than our daughter.”

  Anthea smiled wryly. “I let my brother talk me into marrying Titus because I wanted to feel young again and prove someone could still want me. Titus was very charming during his courtship, you know. It wasn’t until we were married for a few months that his bad temper started to show. When I realized I was constantly dreading his hissy fits and screaming, I asked for a divorce. I hadn’t the faintest idea it would be such a nightmare.”

  Lucillus nodded. “You never know someone until you see them in the pressure of a law suit. That’s when the worst comes out.”

  “Do you not like being a lawyer, then?” Anthea asked. “Is it too depressing seeing your fellow man at his worst?”

  He looked rueful. “Regrettably, no. I find that I thrive on the moral carnage of the legal system. I can’t even say that I am always seeking to find Lady Justice. When it comes down to convincing jury, all I want is to win for my client.”

  “You are a lion of courts, hunting the wounded gazelle that is the opposing counsel?” Anthea arched her brow.

  “I certainly like to think of myse
lf as deadly with my rhetoric,” Lucillus grinned, “but I think my pelt is more like a tiger’s than a lion’s.”

  Anthea made a face of exaggerated pity. “I am sorry to tell you that your pelt is much more like a ginger tom cat than that of a tiger.”

  “Damn, I was hoping you would fall for the tiger simile and tremble before me.” He sighed forlornly. “If I look like a cat, do I at least get petted?”

  “Most assuredly, but who will put the bell on you? If Aesop’s fables taught me nothing else it is that no one wishes to bell the cat.” Anthea reached over and ran her hand down the side of his head, twisting her fingers slightly in his tawny locks.

  He took her wrist and turned her hand to his lips, kissing her on the sensitive skin of her palm. Her libido immediately caused her brain to soften and her nipples to harden.

  “No need to worry. I’ve come with bells already on, to make sure you noticed me.”

  She looked into his viridian eyes. “I promise you, there is no need for bells to get my attention. You already have it at your command.”

  ****

  Lucillus released her hand and cupped her cheek. In an unhurried manner he leaned forward and pressed his perfect lips against hers. It was an undemanding kiss, almost chaste. He laid feathery kisses on her mouth, waiting for her to open to him on her own.

  Anthea tipped her face up slightly, relishing the sensation of his long fingers sliding into her hair, and parted her lips in welcome.

  He pulled her forward and deepened the kiss. He tasted like the wine they had been drinking, and he was affecting her the same way. Her head swam as Lucillus moved over her, easing her back until she was lying down.

  Once Anthea had both hands free she ran them up along Lucillus’s hard chest. Her fingers dug into the breadth of shoulders and she arched upwards to increase her contact with his body. She had been waiting so long for this, and it was turning out to be even better than she had hoped for. Just his kisses were more exciting than anything either of her husbands had been able to do. Anthea had enjoyed sex, and found obtaining orgasm not to be particularly difficult, but she had never yearned for a man to be inside her the way she wanted Lucillus at that moment.