To Love Again - Bertrice Small [109]
Flacilla smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “I think your father has made an excellent decision, Patricius. You should be with other children, and my household is long past children.”
“If we left now, my lad, would that suit you?” Aspar asked his son. The boy nodded vigorously, and Aspar said to his wife, “Have old Marie pack my son’s things up. You may send her and his tutors to Ardiburius’s home tomorrow. Now, we will take our leave of you, my lady, and you may return to your business with this gentleman.” He bowed politely to Flacilla first, and then to Justin Gabras. Taking Patricius’s hand in his, they departed the terrace.
When they were safely out of hearing, Patricius said to his father, “I am glad to be going to my brother’s house, Father. The lady Flacilla entertains too many gentlemen, and this latest fellow frightens me. He was always watching me.”
“He did not touch you, or hurt you, my son, did he?”
“Oh no, Father!” the boy assured his parent. “I never let him come that close to me. Marie says he is a very bad man.”
“You listen to your old nurse, Patricius. She loves you well,” Aspar told his child. “Your mother picked her especially to care for you.”
Upon the terrace, Flacilla watched through the latticed screen that topped one of the low walls as her husband and his child rode off down the wide street. Justin Gabras stood behind her, his hands upon her hips, plunging himself in and out of her woman’s passage as she leaned upon the parapet. “It was so sudden,” she said irritably. “How typical of Aspar to make this surprise visit with its surprise ending.”
Her lover ground himself slowly into her, and bending over, whispered in her ear, “He thinks you no longer fit to watch over the child, my pet. Oh, he masked his intent with sweet words, but it was obvious to me what he was really thinking, Flacilla. What will the gossips make of it, I wonder, for it will certainly provide grist for their mills.”
She felt her crisis approaching, and moaned hungrily, thrusting her hips back to meet him. “I will … go … to the empress!” she gasped.
Justin Gabras pushed Flacilla farther over so that she was almost bent double, enjoying her surprised scream as he moved from her temple of Venus and jammed himself into the entry of her temple of Sodom. His hands held her firmly, stilling her feeble struggles as he leaned forward and bit her neck. “You will be the laughingstock of Constantinople, my pet. Everyone knows you for a whore, but now they will know you for a bad mother as well. Do you not ever wonder why your daughters do not visit you, Flacilla? Their husbands’ families will not let them associate with you, I am told.” His lust exploded into her aching body, and finally, with a satisfied groan, he withdrew from her.
Flacilla burst into tears. “Why do you tell me these lies?” she demanded of him.
“Because you have a delightful talent for perversion to match mine, my pet. You have barely scratched the surface of your own wickedness yet, but under my tutelage you will become a mistress of evil. Do not weep. You are too old to do so publicly; and your face is getting puffy. ‘Tis most unattractive. I do not lie to you, Flacilla, when I say you are the perfect woman for me. I want to marry you. You have powerful family connections, and if I must remain here in Constantinople, then I want a wife such as you, my dear. A young girl would bore me. She would whine and complain about my tastes. You, however, will not, will you?”
“You would let me take lovers?” she asked him nervously.
“Of course,” he said, laughing, “for I will take lovers, too.” He took her hand and they lay together upon the couch. “Think of it, Flacilla! Think of what we could share together, and with no recriminations on either side. We could even share lovers. You know I enjoy both women and men as you do. Shall we go to Villa Maxima tonight and choose a lover to share? What about one of those wonderful dumb Northmen Jovian so