It wasn’t until they were within sight of Tusculm that Marie really began to worry. There was no possible way that the four of them could know whether her father had men watching her Aunt Livia’s, lying in wait for their arrival. Marie was terrified that Logan would be taken away from her as soon as they set foot in Tusculm.
“Everything will be fine, Marie. We turned a three day journey into a week. Your father will believe that we are not coming here and will have left days ago,” Logan tried to assure her, reaching over to squeeze her arm gently.
“I don’t know....” Marie mumbled, worrying her bottom lip. “I know my father and he will not give up easily. He would go after the gods themselves if he thought they had any idea where I was.”
Logan turned his horse so that he was now facing Marie and was close enough so that he could cradle her cheek in one hand. “There are only four people who know where we are and we are all on this hill at this very moment. I am also sure that, even if the gods did know where we are, that they would not tell your father. Do you know why I believe that?”
Marie sniffled quietly, leaning her face into Logan’s hand. “Why?”
“The gods would remain loyal to us because they are the ones who placed us together in the first place,” Logan murmured, one corner of his mouth turning up in the half smile that Marie had become so fond of. “They would not go through the trouble of placing us together only to tear us apart so quickly. No, I believe that they have far greater plans for us in the future.”
By now, Marie had managed a slight smile herself. “Is that so? And what plans to you believe they have for us?”
“Well, for one I thought that we could marry,” Logan said softly, his normally sad hazel eyes alight. “Also, perhaps, if the gods have it in store for us, we could have a child.”
Marie’s first instinct was to smile brightly, but it was soon overshadowed as reality hit her. “Even if we were to marry, Logan, our union would never be recognized. You are a foreigner and our marriage would not be acknowledged under Roman law.”
Logan shrugged his shoulders, his smile never faltering. “Then we simply won’t get married in your stuffy Roman way. My people have no such rules so we will marry ourselves in true Celtic fashion.”
“We could?” Marie asked cautiously, not yet willing to get her hopes up.
“We could, ionúin,” Logan confirmed, using the endearment Logan told her meant ‘beloved’ in Gaelic, his native language. “Granted, we need a priest or a priestess, but I am sure we will be able to find one somewhere in this vast empire who would be able to handfast us. Many were taken captive by Roman soldiers so there has to be one in some city or town.”
“You might want to be careful about how you go about finding your priest, Logan,” Reynaldo spoke up from where he sat on his horse a short distance away. “This close to the capital word could easily get back to Flavius or Magnus. If the two of you insist on doing this, it would be better to do it farther away.”
Ever the optimist, Jubilation added to the conversation. “Unless, of course, there happens to be a Celtic priest in Tusculm.”
“One could always hope,” Logan said, glancing over at the other woman.
The way Marie saw it, if Logan believed in it enough to hope then it was sure to happen. Logan had been through almost every imagined tragedy in the past few years and if he still had hope then Marie had no excuse to dwell on the “what ifs.” Instead, Marie chose to focus on the positive and soon found herself sharing Logan’s infection grin.
“Then as soon as we find a priest, I will gladly be handfasted to you, Logan,” Marie told him, delighting at the look of pure joy on Logan’s face.
As it turned out, Marie had no reason to worry. There were no soldiers lying in wait when they arrived at Livia’s home along the outer fringes of Tusculm’s southern boundary. Marie’s aunt lived on a vast farm on the hills surrounded the center of Tusculm. Livia owned acres of land on which she bred horses and grew wheat. Her husband had died three years ago leaving the running of the house to Livia herself.
Having seen their approach, Livia was waiting for them in the front of the house. In her arms, Livia was carrying a basket filled with herbs from her garden. Marie had very vivid images of playing in that garden when she was a young girl. Before she was old enough for her father to use in his political games, Marie had spent a great deal of time at her aunt and uncle’s farm.
“Livia!” Marie called happily as she slid from her horse and into Logan’s arms. He set her down carefully on the ground then Marie ran towards her aunt, seeing the other woman for the first time in five years. “I have missed you so much, Aunt Livia!”
Handing her basket to a nearby servant, Livia reached out to embrace her niece. “My darling Marie, do you have any idea how worried I have been about you these past few weeks? I had expected you four days ago. I’d feared that something awful had happened to you.”
Marie hugged her aunt tightly, relieved to be in one of the few places where she actually felt like she belonged. “I am sorry to have worried you, Aunt Livia. We had to be very careful not to run into any men my father sent looking for me.”
“You have grown so much since I last saw you,” Livia praised, pulling back and cupping Marie’s face in her hands.
In her letter to her aunt, Marie had told her aunt of her discovery that all her father’s speeches of her skin being poisonous was nothing but a lie. To feel Livia’s warm hands on her cheeks brought a huge smile to Marie’s face. When she was younger, Marie had always loved to watch her aunt’s hands move about as she spoke. When she was a little girl and Livia would tell her stories, Marie had spent most of the time watching her aunt’s hands move in fluid graceful movements.
“That is because I was twelve the last time I was here,” Marie reminded her aunt. “There is a vast difference between twelve and seventeen.”
Sighing happily, Livia brushed a piece of hair away from Marie’s face and behind her ear. “You have grown into a beautiful young woman during that time, Marie. I can see so much of your mother in you. That light in your eyes is the exact same one I saw in her eyes when we were younger.”
“I wish I had known my mother,” Marie said sadly, glancing down at the ground. Letting out a loud breath, Marie looked back up at her aunt with a smile. “Enough sadness. For the first time in so long that I am well and truly happy. So now we are going to focus only things that are good.”
Livia smiled at her and cupped her cheeks once again. “Then that is what we will focus on. What I would like most of all now is to learn the names of the people you are travelling with. I am going to assume that the handsome young man hovering close to you is the Logan that you wrote about in your letter.”
Stepping away from her aunt, Marie went to Logan and laced her fingers through his. “This is indeed Logan, Aunt Livia. My beloved and the first person daring enough to put the rumours of my poisoned to the test.”
“I am honoured to meet you,” Logan said, inclining his head towards Livia.
As she introduced Jubilation and Reynaldo, Marie noticed that Livia’s eyes were drawn to Logan. Marie knew that Livia was measuring Logan up to determine whether he was worthy of her. Livia was ten years older than Marie’s mother, Bianca, so when Marie was still a young girl, all of Livia’s children were grown and had families of their own. So Livia had taken it upon herself to act as mother to Marie when she came to live with her on and off between the ages of seven and twelve. Even though Marie was grown now, she knew that Livia still thought of her as her own daughter and was deciding Logan’s worth as a possible match for Marie.
“I know that you do not believe I am a fit match for Marie, but I do love her,” Logan said with an honesty that Marie could tell startled her aunt. “Marie is the first person to treat me like a human since the Romans made me their slave. She is my goddess and I will love her as long as the gods will allow.”
Livia stared at Logan in shock, but Marie could see the traces of a smile on her aunt’s face. Eventually, Livia allowed Logan to see the smile. “Very well, Logan. I will take your words for their value, but do not doubt that I will end you should you hurt Marie.”
Jubilation and Reynaldo gasped at Livia’s words, but Logan was grinning ear to ear. He inclined his head towards Livia once again. “Then can I hope to have your approval when Marie and I become man and wife?”
“You proposed marriage to my niece?” Livia asked, clearly startled. “Surely you are aware that no marriage between you can be legally recognized.”
Marie smiled fondly at Logan, nodding her head. “We are aware of that, Aunt Livia. That is why we shall not be married in Roman tradition. Soon as it can be arranged we will be handfasted.”
Obviously flustered by the news, Livia ushered the four travellers into her home, leaving servants to tend to their weary horses. Livia remained in a flurry of motion for quite a while, her hands rarely still. While Marie waited in the small, private atrium in the middle of the house with Logan, she could hear her aunt giving orders to servants in the kitchens and others milling about the extensive villa. Jubilation and Reynaldo had been instructed to explore the villa and its surrounding lands at their leisure, telling them only that they would dine in an hour.
“Marriage?” Livia demanded when she finally entered the atrium. “Are you certain it is wise?”
Sighing loudly, Marie simply flopped down on a padded wicker chair. With her aunt, Marie did not have to put on the airs of aristocracy. Marie knows that her aunt only has her well being at heart and that there are no ulterior motives to her actions. “Does it really matter whether it is wise or not, Aunt Livia? I love Logan and that is really all that matters to me. To him I am a normal woman and that is all I longed for.”
“That is all well and good, Marie, but you must know that this union will not be looked upon well by others,” Livia informed her as she sat down in the chair across from her. “You are Roman and come from a line that dates back to Alexander while most will see Logan as nothing more than a Celtic barbarian.”
“And is that how you see Logan?” Marie asked nervously, taking comfort from the feel of Logan’s hands on her shoulders.
Livia considered Logan for a moment before shaking her head. “I see Logan as the man who has stolen your heart. I have not known him long enough to make any other judgments on his character.”
“Thank you,” Logan murmured, his hands lightly squeezing Marie’s shoulders.
“Do not thank me yet, young man,” Livia said solemnly. “I am still very unsure of this match the two of you have chosen for yourselves. However, I am aware that love is not be forced on someone and will allow this romance you have begun to grow as the gods allow. You are welcome in my home for as long as you require.”
Fears Marie hadn’t been aware of harbouring were suddenly allayed. Though she did not say it, Marie knew from her aunt’s expressions and her words that she already approved of Logan and would willingly welcome him into their family when the time came.
“Now tell me of this handfasting you mentioned earlier....”