To Love Again - Bertrice Small [9]
“You have no choice but to go to Britain,” his father had told him angrily when he had protested the decision. His mother, Livia, was weeping softly. “There is nothing for you here in Rome, Quintus. Everything I have is distributed among your siblings. You know this is to be true. It is unfortunate that you are my youngest child, and I can offer you neither land nor monies.
“Gaius Drusus Corinium is a very wealthy man with much land in Britain. Though he has two sons, he will dower his only daughter very well. She will have lands, a villa, gold! It can all be yours, my son, but you must pay the price for it, and the price is that you exile yourself from Rome. You must remain in Britain, work those lands you receive. If you do, you will be happy and comfortable all your days. Britain is most fertile, I have been told. It will be a good life, I promise you, Quintus,” his father had finished.
He had obeyed his parents, although he was not happy with the decision they had made for him. Britain was at the end of the earth, and its climate was foul. Everyone knew that. Still, he could not stay in Rome, at least not right now. Armilla Cicero was becoming most demanding. She had told him last night that she was pregnant, and that they would have to marry. Her father was very powerful; Quintus Drusus knew that he could make life most uncomfortable for any man he thought had made his daughter unhappy. It was better to leave Rome.
Armilla would have an abortion, as she had had on a number of occasions. He was not the first man she had cast her nets for, nor would he be the last. It was really quite a shame, Quintus thought, for Senator Cicero was a wealthy man, but his two other sons-in-law lived unhappily beneath his thumb. That was not the kind of life Quintus Drusus envisioned for himself. He would be his own man.
Nor, it occurred to him as he approached the villa of his cousin, Gaius Drusus Corinium, did he have in mind a lifetime spent farming in Britain. Still, for now there was nothing else he could do. Eventually he would think of a plan, and he would be gone, back to Rome, with a pocket full of gold coin that would keep him comfortable all of his days.
He saw a handful of people come out of the villa to greet him, and forced a smile upon his extremely handsome face. The man, tall, with dark brown hair and light eyes, was like no Drusus he had ever seen, but was obviously his cousin Gaius. The woman, tall, with a fine, high bosom and dark red hair, must be his cousin’s wife. The older woman with white hair was her mother, no doubt. His father had told him that their cousin Gaius’s Celtic mother-in-law lived with them. The two almost-grown boys were images of their father. They were sixteen; close to manhood really. And there was a girl.
Quintus Drusus was close enough now to see her quite clearly. She was tall like the rest of her family, taller, he thought irritably, than he was himself. He did not like tall women. Her hair was a rich auburn, a long, curly mass of untidy ringlets that suggested an untamed nature. She was very fair of skin with excellent features; straight nose, large eyes, a rosebud of a mouth. She was actually one of the most beautiful females he had ever seen, but he disliked her on sight.
“Welcome to Britain, Quintus Drusus,” Gaius said as the young man drew his horse to a stop before them and dismounted.
“I thank you, cousin,” Quintus Drusus replied, and then politely greeted each of the others as they were introduced. To his amazement, he sensed that his proposed bride disliked him even as he did her. Still, a man did not have to like a woman to wed her, and get a proper number of children on her. Cailin Drusus was a wealthy young woman who represented his future. He didn’t intend to let her get away.
For the next few days he waited for his cousin, Gaius, to broach the matter of the marriage contract and set a wedding date. Cailin avoided him as if he were a carrier of the plague. Finally, after ten days, Gaius took him aside one morning.
“I promised your