Free Caesar's Women by Colleen McCullough Page A

amber, put amber pendants in her ears and amber beads around her neck. I am tricked out for a seduction, she thought, and knocked upon the door,
    He answered it himself, saw her to the chair, sat behind his desk just as he had yesterday. But he didn't look at her as he had yesterday; today the eyes were not detached, not cold. They held something she had never seen in a man's eyes before, a spark of intimacy and ownership that did not set her back up or make her dismiss him as lewd or crude. Why did she think that spark honored her, distinguished her from all her fellow women?
    “What have you decided, Gaius Julius?” she asked.
    “To accept young Brutus's offer.”
    That pleased her; she smiled broadly for the first time in his acquaintance with her, and revealed that the right corner of her mouth was definitely less strong than the left. “Excellent!” she said, and sighed through a smaller, shyer smile.
    “Your son means a great deal to you.”
    “He means everything to me,” she said simply.
    There was a sheet of paper on his desk; he glanced down at it. “I've drawn up a proper legal agreement to the betrothal of your son and my daughter,” he said, “but if you prefer, we can keep the matter more informal for a while, at least until Brutus is further into his manhood. He may change his mind.”
    “He won't, and I won't,” answered Servilia. “Let us conclude the business here and now.”
    “If you wish, but I should warn you that once an agreement is signed, both parties and their guardians at law are fully liable at law for breach-of-promise suits and compensation equal to the amount of the dowry.”
    “What is Julia's dowry?” Servilia asked.
    “I've put it down at one hundred talents.”
    That provoked a gasp. “You don't have a hundred talents to dower her, Caesar!”
    “At the moment, no. But Julia won't reach marriageable age until after I'm consul, for I have no intention of allowing her to marry before her eighteenth birthday. By the time that day arrives, I will have the hundred talents for her dowry.”
    “I believe you will,” said Servilia slowly. “However, it means that should my son change his mind, he'll be a hundred talents poorer.”
    “Not so sure of his constancy now?'' asked Caesar, grinning.
    “Quite as sure,” she said. “Let us conclude the business.”
    “Are you empowered to sign on Brutus's behalf, Servilia? It did not escape me that yesterday you called Silanus the boy's paterfamilias.”
    She wet her lips. “I am Brutus's legal guardian, Caesar, not Silanus. Yesterday I was concerned that you should think no worse of me for approaching you myself rather than sending my husband. We live in Silanus's house, of which he is indeed the paterfamilias. But Uncle Mamercus was the executor of my late husband's will, and of my own very large dowry. Before I married Silanus, Uncle Mamercus and I tidied up my affairs, which included my late husband's estates. Silanus was happy to agree that I should retain control of what is mine, and act as Brutus's guardian. The arrangement has worked well, and Silanus doesn't interfere.”
    “Never?” asked Caesar, eyes twinkling.
    “Well, only once,” Servilia admitted. “He insisted I should send Brutus to school rather than keep him at home to be tutored privately. I saw the force of his argument, and agreed to try it. Much to my surprise, school turned out to be good for Brutus. He has a natural tendency toward what he calls intellectualism, and his own pedagogue inside his own house would have reinforced it.”
    “Yes, one's own pedagogue does tend to do that,” said Caesar gravely. “He's still at school, of course.”
    “Until the end of the year. Next year he'll go to the Forum and a grammaticus. Under the care of Uncle Mamercus.”
    “A splendid choice and a splendid future. Mamercus is a relation of mine too. Might I hope that you allow me to participate in Brutus's rhetorical education? After all, I am destined to be