Healer of Carthage by Lynne Gentry

Author:Lynne Gentry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Howard Books

27

SILENCE PUNCTUATED THE IMPASSE of their predicament. Cyprian had no reason to trust her, and Lisbeth had no one else to trust. Her plan sounded crazier with her captor’s restatement of the high points, but so far neither Cyprian nor his aged mentor had provided a better option. If she didn’t stop the man torturing her family, no one would.

“Let me see if I have this straight.” Cyprian rubbed his temples. “You are Magdalena’s daughter?” Disbelief weighted every word of his question. Really, she couldn’t blame him. If she hadn’t pinched herself black and blue, she’d swear the whole impossible tale was nothing more than a nightmare.

Lisbeth worked to keep her voice steady. “You need a wife, and I need someone who’ll help me get my mother away from Aspasius.”

“And what of Laurentius?”

“He’s my half brother. I won’t leave him behind.”

“How can that be?”

His refusal to believe a word she said left her no choice. “Aspasius raped my mother.”

“What the proconsul does with his slaves is his business.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She was wrong to think the man who bought her off the slave block would understand. “Help me out here, Ruth. I can’t leave my mother in that situation.”

Ruth floated between them in that regal way of hers that commanded control of a situation. “The marriage would put rumors of your nasty malady to rest, Cyprian.”

A new round of skepticism scrunched Cyprian’s handsome features. “My wife must make public appearances.” He circled Lisbeth, but his agitation was aimed at Ruth. “Aspasius has seen her. He’ll recognize her as the slave I stole out from under him the first time she makes an official appearance at the arena. And no matter what we think of the games, I must rub elbows in the royal arena box if I’m going to win this election.”

“I was so banged up,” Lisbeth countered, “I doubt he’d remember a slave girl he met only briefly.”

“Aspasius forgets and forgives nothing.” Cyprian spit his decision with finality: “I’ll not risk such foolishness.”

“We could make her over,” Ruth offered. “Dye her hair. Rim her eyes with kohl. Dress her in silks. Veil part of her face. She does clean up remarkably well, remember?”

Cyprian’s eyes bore into Lisbeth’s, sending a fiery jolt straight through her. “No.” From the discomfort on his face, he’d felt the spark that had passed between them the first time he saw her dressed as a lady, the night he’d dragged her into the church service. He took a step back, as if placing himself in that compromising position again didn’t appeal to him any more than it suited her. “It’s too risky.”

“We don’t have to have a real marriage,” Lisbeth stammered. “I help you get elected, and you use the law to get my family away from Aspasius. We both get what we want, and then we go our merry ways.”

“Divorce? Absolutely not.” The muscle in his jaw tensed. “Fortunately, it’s against Roman law for patricians and slaves to marry. And you are going nowhere.

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