The Vestal Vanishes by Rosemary Rowe Page B

that I did stay at his country villa once, when I was ill and he required my services, but I am not the class of guest he usually invites. The notion of my simply arriving at his Corinium town-house unannounced, demanding food and somewhere warm to sleep, was quite unthinkable.
    How could I explain this to a man like Publius? I shook my head and followed him inside as a smirking Fiscus held open the door of the atrium for us, smiling at his erstwhile master and ignoring me.
    ‘Respected eminence,’ I muttered to Publius, once I was in the room, ‘I am a citizen of very humble rank, and though my patron is very kind to me I could not presume upon him in this way. The house is closed and providing hospitality for me – or any unexpected guest – might be difficult. In any case the servants do not know me there and, without a letter from His Excellence himself, I doubt that they would even let me in.’
    The atrium was full of flowers and scented oil, and servants were already setting a pair of fine carved stools – one ebony, one ivory – on each side of the little table by the wall. Publius seemed to take this as his right, and sat down on the nearer one, saying with a smile, ‘Would it help if I wrote a letter to the house myself.’
    ‘What would be really helpful,’ I said urgently, crouching on a lower footstool which Fiscus pointedly had set for me, ‘would be for me to stay at the lodging-house where Audelia stayed last night and where she changed coaches with Lavinia. I might learn something very helpful there.’
    Lavinius had already settled on the ebony chair, dropping his cloak where the slave would pick it up and said, with a sneer, ‘They would not take a stranger they did not expect – they require a letter sent on in advance – that is the very reason that we chose their services. It keeps out the common class of travellers.’
    A thoughtful frown crossed Publius’s pudgy face. ‘Suppose I wrote a letter to them, instead, explaining who I was, and gave it to Libertus to carry to the house. I am quite sure they would admit him then.’
    Fiscus expressed his evident disdain by raising one eyebrow at Lavinius, but our host did not respond. He turned to the house-slave who was already at his side with a silver salver piled with cheese and grapes: I would wager the hundred aureii that these would not be sour. Lavinius selected one and signalled for some wine, before remarking smoothly, ‘The pavement-maker said he had no money for an inn, I think. And this one is not cheap.’
    Publius selected a piece of proffered cheese. ‘I was prepared to offer a reward – or even pay a ransom – for Audelia’s return. I daresay I can undertake to pay for this. I will stop there and settle matters personally, on my way back to Londinium. Perhaps I could even stay there overnight myself, instead of using the military inns as I did on my way here. Courtesy of the provincial governor, of course.’ He smiled at me. ‘Of course, if Libertus is successful in his search, I will have my bride with me by then. So, Lavinius, if you would arrange a wax writing-block for me – or a sheet of bark-paper and some ink – I will compose a note. I have a seal-ring, if you have some wax. Fiscus can fetch the materials, perhaps, if your slaves are—’
    He broke off as Modesta came rushing in, aghast. ‘Master.’ She flung herself breathless at her owner’s feet. ‘Your pardon, master, for disturbing you. There is a man on horseback here, whom I think that you should see.’
    Lavinius made a lofty gesture with his long thin hand. ‘Doubtless one of the early banquet guests.’ He turned to Publius with a knowing smile. ‘This isn’t Rome, you know. A lot of humbler people don’t have water-clocks or well-positioned sundials, even now. Sometimes people find it very hard to judge the hour – especially if they know good wine awaits them here.’
    Publius responded with the expected laugh, but Modesta did not smile.