A Bitter Chill by Jane Finnis Page B

course, if any of you lovely ladies need any medical attention, you know where to find me. Now, this mixture should be hot enough, I think.”
    “He can give me an examination any time he likes,” one of the maids commented when he’d gone.
    There was general agreement from the kitchen slaves, and I thought, however troublesome most of the new guests are, the handsome doctor has only to whistle and everyone will come running. I might even come running myself.
    Just before full dark I went out to the stables to make sure our lads were taking good care of the expensive transport, which they were, so I didn’t linger long. The wind was bitter, and the snow was a continuous curtain now. We were in for a cold night.
    But the bar-room was warm, and empty except for Albia.
    “All alone?” I asked. “Have we finally got everyone happily settled?”
    She nodded. “Settled, anyhow—to say ‘happily’ might be overdoing it. I never saw such a quarrelsome lot!”
    “Nor I. It’s probably a combination of the bad weather, plus having Sempronia barking at them all the time. And that little weasel Diogenes is a nasty piece of work.”
    “‘Weasel’ suits him. Sly and cunning, with sharp teeth. But Margarita seems pleasant enough. And what a gorgeous little boy!”
    “That doctor’s quite good-looking, isn’t he?”
    She giggled. “I thought you’d noticed him. Oh yes, definitely fanciable. Not that I’m interested for myself, but there’s no law against looking. Well, Candidus will be here tomorrow to cheer us up. I hope it doesn’t snow too much tonight. If the roads are blocked, he might not be able to come.”
    “Get on with you, it’ll take more than a few feet of snow to keep your gallant fiancé away! What’s worrying me is, if the weather turns really bad, Sempronia’s party might get snowed in here, and we’ll be stuck with them for days and days!”
    She gave an elaborate shudder. “I’d like to know why she’s dragging them all across Britannia in the dead of winter. Her husband especially. I only got a glimpse of him, but he’s thin as a rail, and sort of grey and drawn-looking.”
    “I’ll find out soon enough, I expect. She says she needs my local knowledge, so perhaps I’ll tell her this whole district is suffering from a terrible infectious plague, and she’d better move on tomorrow before she catches it.”
    “Just say the word, and I’ll get all our slaves to paint red blotches on their faces, and sneeze a lot.”
    In due course Diogenes came in and said, “My lady will see you now,” as if I were some petitioner going to ask a favour. We walked together to the guest wing, but he didn’t escort me into her ladyship’s presence. He went into her bedroom, leaving me standing alone outside the sitting-room door. This turned me into an unintentional but not exactly unwilling eavesdropper. I couldn’t help but hear raised voices coming from inside, so I stood quietly with my hand raised to knock, listening for all I was worth. Well, a girl can’t help being curious.
    “How many times must I repeat this, Horatius?” Sempronia was exclaiming. “Being here in person is the only way to convince Decimus we mean what we say. All of us—me, Gnaeus, and you.”
    “But if Decimus has decided to live with the girl, then he’ll live with her, whether they’re formally married or not, and regardless of what any of us say,” Horatius retorted.
    “Over my dead body,” Sempronia snapped.
    Timaeus came past just then, so I had to knock on the door, but I got no answer, and I whispered, “They don’t seem to hear me,” as if this was at least my third attempt to attract attention.
    He murmured, “Go on in, I should. Her bark’s worse than her bite.”
    “That’s reassuring.”
    “Usually, anyway.” He grinned and went off to Plautius’ room, and I rapped extremely loudly on the door. This time Sempronia heard me and called, “Come in.”
    The visitors had lost no time in