Page 80 of Of Love and Treason
“What’s going on?” He looked at Iris. “Is your pater well?”
“I think so.” She hadn’t considered whether or not he would also lose his position.
“Come and sit, you two.” Delphine flicked a hand toward an empty couch and poured two more cups of calda.
Valentine sat and accepted a cup, his eyes shifting between Beatrix and Iris as they filled him in on the morning’s happenings at the market. Valentine’s lips went pinched and white when Beatrix said that without proof of sacrifice she’d be evicted not just from her shop but from the apartment as well. He shut his eyes, raking his fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry, Bea. The perfumery meant everything to you.”
“I loved it.” She nodded and sounded braver than she looked. “But it did not meaneverything. I have God and good friends. What more do I need?”
Iris chewed her lip, wishing she could be brave enough to say the same. Valentine only knew the briefest of reasons why her father had accepted a bribe for his arrest, not the whole of everything they’d tried to hide from their new friends. Her shoulders sagged under theever-building weight of humiliation over her father’s debts, dread of her fate with the tribune, the danger of their new faith. Sitting here now, the painful pressure of shame and fear swelled inside her chest, threatening to spill into the light. Iris bent, clamping a hand over her mouth to hold it in. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough. A single strangled sob burst from somewhere deep and hidden.
“Oh, my dear.” Beatrix wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “It will all be well in time.”
But it wouldn’t. Iris pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, mortification at her lack of strength or faith stealing her words and composure. Beatrix coaxed the story out of her in bits and shards until the whole of it came tumbling out in a flood of congealed relief. The debts, the tribune’s proposition, Pater’s drinking, her fear. She stared at her feet when she finished, too ashamed to meet anyone’s eyes. They were all so good, so strong, so brave, so full of faith.
What must they think of her now?
Beatrix’s fingers lifted her chin, forcing Iris to meet her brown eyes, swimming with tears of compassion. “Oh, my dear,” she breathed. “What a heavy burden you carry. Thank you for letting us share the weight of it.” She wrapped Iris in a hug once more, secure and full of love.
Iris blinked. They were not ashamed? She chanced a glance at Valentine, whose face was an unreadable mix of sadness, anger, revulsion. She dropped her gaze again, face burning.
Perhaps notallof them were as understanding as Beatrix.
“What is the amount of the debt?” Valentine asked.
Eyes on her white-knuckled hands, she answered. He didn’t say anything, just rose and left the room, Abachum on his heels. Somehow that was worse than if he’d criticized her father’s carelessness and her lack of faith.
Her lips trembled. “I—I’m sorry. I’m not strong like you all—I’m—”
“We were made to live life together.” Beatrix took her hands and looked into her eyes. “We are not strong all the time. God has graciously made us all different, so when one is weak, those with strengthcan lift them up. We must carry each other’s burdens, not add to them with heaps of guilt.”
Delphine prayed. Martha joined in, and as her voice ceased, Beatrix began. Their words covered Iris’s aching heart like a balm.
When they finished, Valentine stood in the doorway.
“I’ll have to discuss it with the others.” He crossed the room to the couch. “But if they all agree to it, there’s enough in the offering pool to cover the debt.”
Iris sucked in a shuddering gasp, her heart beginning to thump. “You would do that? For us?” She shook her head. “But we have nothing to give in return.”
“A gift does not require repayment.” Valentine sat and held her gaze with one of determination. “We cannot sit idly by while you and your father are sold.” He grimaced.
Iris looked between the three other women, who did not seem surprised in the least by Valentine’s announcement.
“That’s settled.” Beatrix folded her hands. “Now I’ll just have to find myself a new apartment and we’ll all be set.”
“I can help withthat.” Martha slanted a mischievous grin at Valentine. “If you don’t mind sharing a roof with a criminal.”
XXXV
VALENS PAUSED AT THE DOORof Cato’s office, watching as Iris followed his aunt across the courtyard and into the culina, disappearing with one last flash of a brown, sandaled foot. As saddened as he’d been over Bea’s news, he’d felt a measure of relief that she’d be protected under the Calogarus roof. While the nightly weddings had gouged his sleep, so had the worry over her being alone in the apartment.
He’d been truly shaken by Iris’s confession. Then angry, first toward Quintus and his carelessness, and then toward a tribune who would take advantage and force such a vile future on Iris. His blood went hot imagining Iris forced to—but he wouldn’t imagine it. It would not happen. He would not allow it. At least now Valens understood the desperation that had driven Quintus to accept his grandfather’s bribe. In Quintus’s place, he might have been tempted to do the same.
Valens let himself into Cato’s empty office on a hunt for papyrus. After Iris had revealed the truth of their dire circumstances, Valens had not expected her to volunteer to help Bea pack and move her belongings—and several of his—back to Marius and Martha’s home. But she’d insisted on helping, and without the slightest hesitation. If there hadn’t been so many eyes in the room who would surely tease him about it later, he might have pulled Iris into his arms in gratitude.
The thought startled him. Where had that come from?
