Chapter 1

One never could feel toward Decimus as one did toward good old Marcipor who was always so gentle—and trustworthy too. Marcipor had managed the business affairs of the family for so long that he probably knew more about their estate than Father did.

Decimus bowed gravely now, as Lucia dismissed him, and started toward the house, his stiff back registering disapproval of this episode that had flouted the discipline he believed in and firmly exercised. The Macedonians, their small even teeth flashing an ecstatic smile, scampered away, hand in hand, without waiting for formal permission. Lucia stopped them in their tracks with a stern command.

‘Come back here!’ she called severely. They obeyed with spiritless feet and stood dejectedly before her. ‘Take it easy,’ drawled Lucia. ‘You shouldn’t romp when you’re on duty. Decimus does not like it.’

They looked up shyly from under their long lashes, and Lucia’s lips curled into a sympathetic grin that relighted their eyes.

‘You may go now,’ she said, abruptly resuming a tone of command. Lounging onto the long marble seat beside the table, she watched the twins as they marched a few paces behind Decimus, their spines straight and stiff as arrows, accenting each determined step with jerks of their heads from side to side, in quite too faithful imitation of the crusty butler. Lucia chuckled. ‘The little rascals,’ she muttered. ‘They deserve to be spanked for that.’ Then she suddenly sobered and sat studiously frowning at the rhythmic flexion of her sandaled toes. Marcellus would be here in a moment. How much—if anything—should she tell her adored brother about her unpleasant experience with Gaius? But first, of course, she must discover what dreadful thing had happened last night at the Tribunes’ Banquet.

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