A Stray Drop of Blood (18 page)

A moment later, he had let go of her, too, and had stormed from the house altogether.

Shaken and dazed, Abigail stood where he left her. She jumped when Andrew put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“
Go to our mistress. She will need you.”

Chapter Twelve

Abigail entered Ester’s chamber silently. She watched her mistress for a moment as the early sunlight caught the tears streaming down her cheeks and turned them to liquid diamonds. Abigail’s heart clenched up and pounded so forcefully that she thought it would burst from her chest. This was the woman who had nurtured her most of her life, who had taught her and helped her grow, who had shown her what it meant to be a woman of virtue and strength.

And she had failed her. The one person in the world she never wanted to disappoint, and she had.

Feeling more base than she had the day she was sold into slavery, Abigail moved forward and fell to her knees at Ester’s feet, bending over until her forehead touched the ground in supplication.

A gentle hand settled on her head. “Rise, my child. I know you are not at fault. My son is not the kind of man to give you a choice.”

Abigail sat up and did not object when Ester eased her head into her lap and stroked her hair.

Ester sighed. “I would ask you why you did not come to me, but I already know the answer. You were ashamed and afraid, and I cannot blame you. I would not have confided in anyone, either. I only hope that you can forgive me.”

“
Forgive you?” Amazed, Abigail raised her head and looked with confusion at her lady. “You have done nothing to need forgiveness, Mistress.”

“
I have failed you. I was so busy trying to decide what to do about your marriage that I failed to see that my son would share the interest I knew you would evoke in others. I did not realize that just because I thought of you as a daughter, he would not see you a sister. I should have.”

Abigail kept her eyes on Ester’s only because she knew the woman willed them there. “You could not have seen, my lady. He has been careful to hide his interest. He knew you would not approve, so he kept it from you.”

Ester pressed her lips together and let her eyes slide shut. “How long?”

She wished she had an answer Ester would like more than the truth. “A month.”

Her mistress groaned. “If I had answered Cleopas about Andrew when he first brought it up, you would not be in this situation.”

“
You only did what you thought best, Mistress.”

Ester cupped her cheek and managed a small smile. “You are precious, my daughter. You deserve better than this. Cleopas demanded Jason wed you, but he refused. He also would not give you up. So my husband has given you to him. According to our law, that makes you his wife in action, if not on paper. According to Roman tradition, it also makes him free to give you back to me when–when he wishes it.”

Abigail tilted her chin up. “If my master has chosen this course, then I trust it is best. I will honor your son as my husband, and I will serve him faithfully in all he asks. What he calls me will not affect that.”

Ester nodded.“And Andrew?”

“
He told me this morning why you were looking for me. He said he still wishes to have me as his wife when Jason tires of me.” Meeting Ester’s gaze, she added, “This is what I wish, too. I love Andrew, and I want to remain at your side.”

Ester nodded, but her eyes were still clouded. “Will you sing to me?” She moved to her couch and reclined, closing her eyes, while Abigail got out her lute and began a psalm.

“‘
To you I will cry, O lord my Rock:

Do not be silent to me.

Lest, if You are silent to me,

I become like those who go down to the pit.

Hear the voice of my supplications

When I cry to you,

When I lift up my hands toward Your holy sanctuary.’”

Her voice was pure and true, but the words were only words in her ears. She sang the song because she knew Ester liked it and would appreciate it, but it was in her mind alone and did not come from her heart. Even as she uttered the words, she knew she would not cry out to the Lord. He
was
silent to her. She was not David. She was not any man. She was just a slave woman, and exactly what that meant had been demonstrated today yet again. She could be given, she could be refused, she could be dishonored without consequence, all because her master crooked a finger.

Well, so be it. She had been left with at least one thing she loved: Ester. And Ester she would continue to serve with a whole heart.

She moved from one psalm into another, singing of supplication, praise, and prayer. Then after an hour Ester held up a hand. “I will take some camomile, my child. And have Dinah prepare me some food.”

With a respectful nod, Abigail put down her instrument and went to the kitchen, but she did not miss the way Ester blinked back tears as she left. Dinah was busy as always, but she halted her work the moment Abigail entered and came to wrap her arms around her.

“
I heard. I wish you had told me. I thought you were just going through moods, when really you were going through a terrible trial. Are you all right, my friend? Do you need anything?”

Abigail smiled and pulled away. “Camomile for the mistress. And she wishes breakfast.”

Dinah scowled. “That is not what I meant.”

“
I know.” Abigail put a hand on Dinah’s cheek. “I am fine, Dinah, thank you.”

Dinah nodded. “We are out of camomile.”

“
Then I will get some.” She drew in a deep breath and wasted no time, but grabbed a few coins and headed for the door.

~*~

Jason wished not for the first time that Menelaus, rather than Titus, had the same schedule he did. This was
not
one of the days when he was in the mood to listen to the Roman’s arrogance; and what was more, Titus always seemed to pick up on his moods and force the reasons out of him, and he also did not want to talk about it. Not with Titus. But Titus was the only one around, was indeed waiting for him at the edge of the markets when Jason finally wandered in that direction.

After storming from his parents’ house, he had wandered around for a while with no goal, then had rendezvoused with the merchant in Caius’s employ to receive his monthly allotment and give the latest news on Titus–not that there was much.

Though it was another reason Jason did not desire his company that day. He always felt slightly guilty for spying on his friend, even if he
did
never have much to share.

They met on the fringes of the marketplace, and Titus nodded a greeting. Jason returned it and hoped that his friend would be uncharacteristically oblivious today.

Naturally, the first thing Titus said was, “I saw your father this morning. He looked to be in a rage over something. Trouble at home, my friend?”

Jason sighed and debated for a moment how much he should say. He decided it would save them both much time and effort if he just admitted the situation now. Not looking at him, he replied, “He and my mother discovered this morning that I had taken Abigail.”

Titus let out a laugh that at first irritated him, but then strangely made him relax. “They only just found out? Amazing! I assume they did not approve?”

To that Jason rolled his eyes. “They insist that things are not done that way in Israel, that I should have taken her as my wife if I wanted her so badly.”

Titus scoffed, even waved his hand to dismiss the possibility. “Are they insane? You cannot take a Hebrew slave as your wife if you desire a political career in Rome.”

“
They did not like it when I said that, either.” Jason put on a lopsided grin as they meandered between the stalls aimlessly. “I believe my parents hope I will remain here for the rest of my days. And they tried to insist that now I simply
must
wed Abigail.”

“
Of course, you refused.”

“
Yes.” Jason let his breath out in a slow gush. “But my father came up with a sort of compromise to appease my mother. He gave me Abigail as my slave, which means that I can do what I will with her. But that also means I must see to her welfare. And part of the arrangement is that I still allow her to serve my mother, of course. And that when I tire of her, I will not sell her, but return her to them.”

The arch of Titus’s black brow showed that he thought that unnecessary. “She was already yours. What difference does it make if she is
more
yours?”

“
Hebrew law is a complicated thing.”

Titus slapped an encouraging hand to his shoulder. “It seems to me, at least, that what you need is to forget about this blasted Hebrew law for a while. Forget about this slave. You have been thinking of her too much, and it is not healthy. She is only a woman, and a servant at that. My advice,” he said lightly, “is to broaden your horizons. Find yourself another woman today; that will help you put her into the proper place in your mind.”

Jason felt the money that was stored in his belt and wondered at the counsel. It may have the effect Titus claimed it would, but he was not so certain he wanted to waste his money on what he could have for free at home. And he remembered, too, that his father had relented in order to keep him away from the harlots. He could not bring himself to disrespect that.

“
But the prostitutes seem tasteless now.”

“
So do not take a prostitute.” Titus swept an arm outward to encompass the swarms of people flocking the stalls. “There are women everywhere, and more are willing than you would suppose, if you ask them right.” His smile showed that he had been successful in that often enough.

“
Let us pick out a beauty for you. There.” He pointing to a woman at a stall nearby. “Perfect. She is youth, she is grace, she is beauty, she is appeal. I would take her myself, but I am feeling generous. Just walk up . . .”

Jason strode her way, setting his jaw in determination. He waited until he was near enough to keep his voice at a normal level before speaking. “Abigail. What are you doing out here?” His eyes moved over her dress; it was the fine linen garment she wore within the house but seldom without.

Abigail spun around, her eyes wide for an instant. When she realized it was him, she relaxed and held up a measure of herbs. “We were out of camomile, and your mother wished some.”

Jason studied her for a moment, then took her elbow and steered her toward an alley. Her face was drawn, her eyes sparkling with worry. Once they were out of the stream of shoppers, he turned toward her. “Are you angry with me for how I acted with you this morning?”

“
No.” Her tone was calm, and she even looked him in the eye. “You are my master. You may do with me as you will. I have neither the call nor the right to be angry about it.”

She looked as though she meant it–but anxiety still lit her eyes. “What, then?”

Abigail searched his gaze. After a moment she made a quiet answer. “Your mother was very upset, Jason. I know not what you said to her, but it has hurt her greatly.”

It was the first time she had called him Jason. He rewarded her with a smile. “I will apologize, beloved. I know I caused her pain, and I will make it right.” His smile grew when he saw some of the worry fade from her eyes. “Believe it or not, I love my mother as much as you do.”

She took a moment to apparently gauge the truth of those words, then smiled genuinely. “Perhaps, then, you should tell her that.”

“
Perhaps I should.” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “Was she angry with you?” She shook her head, and he nodded. “Good. Did she tell you of what my father said?” A nod. Seeing she would not volunteer her reaction, he pushed for one. “And what did you have to say to it?”

Abigail drew herself up much as Cleopas had done earlier before handing down the law. “I said the truth. That as long as I am yours, I will honor you as my master and my husband. Even if I am not to be your wife.”

How could he help but admire her articulated courage? Not any woman would declare a loyalty that so obviously opposed her own desires. This was the Abigail that had been so irresistible, and he hoped that this change in their lives would inspire her to remain that way. Perhaps now that she was more firmly his, she would not be caught by those ridiculous inhibitions.

“
I must return to your mother,” Abigail softly interrupted his musings. “She will be waiting for her tea.”

“
Of course.” Jason stepped away with a fond smile. “Tell Mother that you saw me, reprimanded me, and that I will soon be home to beg her pardon.”

Abigail opened her mouth, undoubtedly to assure him that she had not intended a reprimand, but as he moved to her side, her face froze.

Jason turned to see what she had rendered her speechless. Spotting Titus, who was leaning against a wall and making no attempt to hide his interest in her or the situation, Jason grinned. He knew very well that this friend of his who had maintained for so long that he had no desire to see Abigail was now suffering the pangs of jealous lust. Oh the delights of a turned table.