Death at Pompeia's Wedding by Rosemary Rowe Page B

be cured with a sacrifice or two, and a little bloodletting to relieve the brain. Provided that she’s really innocent of her father’s death, of course, which I sincerely hope – so if the citizen can prove it, we shall all be much relieved. Though how can he possibly prove anything at all? No one knows what happened. Unless of course he poisoned my poor son himself!’
    Gracchus put a restraining hand upon her arm. People were queuing up behind us to take their leave of her, and might be listening to this interchange. He dropped his voice as if to warn her of the fact. ‘It seems he has a talent for solving mysteries of this kind – and now he has undertaken to work on my behalf. Perhaps, if he succeeds in doing it, we could have a wedding later on? On the same terms as this one, as far as dowry goes? After the funeral, and leaving a due period for mourning, naturally.’
    For the first time I saw the glimmer of a smile. She said, with an attempt to drop her strident voice, ‘We could hold an appropriate public cleansing sacrifice, perhaps, to lift the evil omens of today, and appease the gods.’
    Appease the gossips was what she really meant, but Gracchus merely smiled. ‘Then my word upon it, lady. We will speak of this again. In the meantime, I will take my leave.’ He took off his wreath, and said in a voice that was intended to be heard by everyone, ‘Send this, and my greetings, to the lady Pompeia and tell her I hope she will recover soon. And you will inform me when the body is laid out, I will come to pay homage and attend the funeral.’ He bowed his head to us and – acknowledging the surprised and sympathetic murmurs as he passed through the crowd – he followed his friend Linneus out into the street.
    ‘Well!’ Livia had detached herself from some departing guests and made her way to join us, the plump handmaiden still following at her heels. ‘The disappointed bridegroom has left us now, I see. I am sorry not to have managed to have a word with him. Though I doubt my words would be a compensation for his loss.’
    ‘It may not be a loss yet,’ her mother-in-law muttered, grudgingly. ‘Thanks to this incomer you think so highly of. He has wormed his way into Gracchus’s confidence, now, and persuaded him that he can prove Pompeia innocent – in which case Gracchus will have her in spite of everything. I can’t say I approve of the bargain – or of him – but I suppose that we shall have to make the best of it. It would assure Pompeia’s future, at the very least.’
    Livia turned her pretty face to me. ‘Then it seems we owe you gratitude for this also, citizen. As well as your help in taking charge of things.’
    Helena Domna scowled at me again. ‘I don’t know why you sent to ask him to do that. Most inappropriate. One of the family should have spoken to the crowd. You should not have called upon a stranger to dismiss our guests. And look at them – departing straightaway, without a semblance of hospitality. The news will be over the whole colonia by dark. I don’t know what Honorius would have said, I’m sure.’
    Livia exchanged a meaningful glance with me. ‘I’m sure it is his death which will concern them more.’
    Helena Domna sniffed. ‘And that’s another thing. Who is to close poor Honorius’s eyes, and do the calling of his name and start on the lament? You and I can’t do it, decently – much as I’m sure you’d like to volunteer to do the task yourself. A female! If we were to show such disrespect, I should expect my son to come and haunt the house for evermore. If only my dear brother was still here to act for us. But there are no living male relatives at all, and dreadful as it is, we may have to use a slave.’ She looked around. ‘But people are waiting to say farewell to us. We’ll say no more about this until everybody’s gone.’ She fixed an artificial smile upon her face and turned away to speak to a departing visitor. Most of the invited guests