Sheen on the Silk - Anne Perry [74]
Eirene smiled, then instantly looked away, and the moment after, Anna found her bright, clear eyes fixed steadily on her, curious and interested.
Helena was talking again, looking at Demetrios.
Antoninus might have loved her because he alone could find the tenderness in her. Anna had no idea what they might have shared. Helena might suffer alone now, not daring to let anyone else see, least of all her mother or this other clever, ugly woman who carried such hurt in her face.
Anna looked across to where Helena was standing with Demetrios. She was smiling, and he appeared self-conscious.
“He is beginning to look like his father,” Zoe observed, glancing sideways at Eirene, then back at Demetrios. “Have you heard from Gregory lately?” she continued.
“Yes,” Eirene said tersely.
Anna saw that she stiffened, her body becoming more angular just in the way she stood.
Zoe seemed amused. “Is he still in Alexandria? I see no reason for him to remain there now. Or does he believe we are going to be decimated by the Latins again? I never knew him to care a jot about the intricacies of religion.”
“Really?” Eirene said with raised eyebrows, her brilliant eyes ice cold. “But then perhaps you did not know him nearly as well as you imagined.”
The color was brighter in Zoe’s cheeks. “Perhaps not,” she agreed. “We had some wonderful conversations, but I cannot recall that they were ever about religion.” She smiled.
“Hardly the circumstances conducive to matters of the spirit,” Eirene agreed. She turned to look at Demetrios again. “Yes, he does look like his father,” she said. “A pity you did not have a son … by any of your … lovers.”
Zoe’s face tightened as if she had been slapped. “I would not advise allowing Demetrios to admire Helena too much,” she said softly, in little more than a whisper. “It could be … unfortunate.”
Eirene lost the last trace of blood from beneath her skin. She stared at Zoe, then turned with a freezing look to Anna. “It is agreeable to make your acquaintance, Anastasius, but I shall not be availing myself of your services. I do not put potions on my face in a desperate attempt to cling to youth, and fortunately my health is excellent, as is my conscience. Should it not be, I have my own physician to consult. A Christian one. I have heard that you use Jewish remedies on occasion. I prefer not to. I am sure you will understand, especially in these strange and disloyal times.” Without waiting for Anna to reply, Eirene nodded briefly to Zoe and took her leave, Demetrios following after her.
Helena looked at her mother, appeared to consider picking a quarrel over the issue, and decided better of it. “So much for your further clientele,” she said to Anna. “I don’t know what you were hoping for, but Mother seems to have made it impossible.” She smiled brightly. “You will have to seek your business elsewhere.”
Anna excused herself also and left. There had been no possible retaliation she could afford to make, dearly as she would have liked to.
She spent a long evening turning over and over in her mind what bound these people together who seemed to have so little in common. Anna could not believe it was faith, but it could perhaps be hatred of Rome.
The following morning was Sunday, and she walked alone to the Hagia Sophia to attend the Mass. She wanted to be where neither Simonis nor Leo could see her or question her mood. Perhaps the glory of the building and the power of the familiar words would comfort her, remind her of the certainties that mattered.
On the steps almost in the shadow of the dome, she nearly bumped into Zoe. It was impossible to avoid her without being both rude and slightly absurd.
“Ah, Anastasius,” Zoe said blandly. “How are you? I apologize for Eirene’s odd manners. She is a woman of peculiar moods. Perhaps you could treat her for it? She would benefit greatly.” She fell into step beside Anna