“I am.” She looked him up and down. “My father’s promised me to some half-Roman barbarian, and I came here to have a look at him. Who are you?”
“I’m afraid I’m that half-Roman barbarian,” he said a little stiffly.
The girl surveyed him coolly, and he felt as if he were waiting for some verdict of tremendous import; then she giggled.
“Well, you look Roman enough,” she said. “I was prepared for some great blond barbarian whose sons would never look Roman born. It is true that our Governor’s policy of teaching the sons of chieftains Roman arts and manners had been quite successful,” she added consideringly, “but those of us with Roman blood must not forget to whom the Empire belongs. I would bear no babes whose portraits would look out of place among those of my ancestors.”
Roman or Tuscani blood? Gaius wondered cynically, remembering that Licinius came from the same Etruscan country stock as his own father, and owed his rise in rank to merit, not ancestors. Those common origins were no doubt part of the bond. Gaius thought of Cynric, who was also half Roman, however unwillingly. At least he Gaius Macellius looked what he was supposed to be, and his father had spared no pains to have him accepted as such.
He said dryly, “I suppose I should be grateful that I pass your inspection.”
“Oh, come,” she said, “I am sure you want your sons to look like proper Romans no less than I do.”
With a sudden pang he wondered, And what of Eilan’s child’? Would he be as fair as his mother, or show his father’s breeding in his face? He made himself return Julia’s droll smile. “Oh, I’m sure all our sons will be Roman and brave.”
They were laughing together when Licinius returned. He peered, as if for confirmation, at Julia’s rosy face, then said “That’s settled, then.”
Gaius blinked as his prospective father-in-law clasped his hand, feeling as if some great siege engine had run him down. But there was only Julia, small and smiling, at his side. She looked so harmless; like a child.
But she isn’t, he thought. One meeting was enough to convince him. Far from it. Harmless is the last word I’d use for her.
“Of course,” the Procurator said, “a wedding like this cannot be put together quickly. He was trying to be jocular. “People would certainly think that Julia had somehow misbehaved, being married off at a moment’s notice to a stranger from nowhere. Local society and my family must have a chance to know and value you.”
That was exactly the point of this wedding, Gaius thought wryly, except that he was the one who had misbehaved. But he could see that Julia would not want to be hurried into marriage with – as the Procurator had put it – a stranger from nowhere. She must be given a chance to be married as a respected member of her own community. And the delay would give him a chance to catch his breath and figure out what to do. Perhaps on closer acquaintance the girl would decide she did not like him after all, and even his father could not blame him for not marrying her then.
Licinius tapped the scroll from Macellius. “Officially, this transfers you to detached duty under my command. You may not think a young officer needs to know anything about finances, but when you come to command a Legion, you’ll find your job easier if you know something about the system that keeps your men shod and fed! No doubt you’ll find it easy duty after the frontier. It’s not Rome, but Londinium is growing, and the women will make much of you with all the young officers on the Governor’s staff gone off to the North.”
He paused, and fixed Gaius with a hard stare. “It goes without saying,” he added, “that there will be no improper behavior while you are here —” The Procurator went on, “You will live with Julia under this roof as if she were your sister, even though I will gradually let it be known that she has been your promised wife from infancy. But until after the ceremony —”