Free Clockwork Countess by Delphine Page B

the Gods as we do," she protested. "He knows we’re sent visions for a reason.  Surely I can persuade him, at least, to take precautions?"
    "I pray you’re right, but you must prepare for the worst.  If Caesar dies, how long do you think you and Caesarion will be safe in Rome?”
    Cleopatra cast a worried glance at her baby, his plump little face peaceful in slumber.  Instinctively, she placed her hand over his tiny heart to quell the fear that anything might harm him.
    “They have the audacity, in whispers of course, to question Caesarion's paternity,” said Cleopatra bitterly.  “Because Caesar never got his barren wife, Calpurnia, with child, they don’t believe he could get one with me.” 
    Apollodorus looked grim.  “Still, that doesn’t make Caesarion any safer from Rome’s assassins.”
    "If I fail…." she paused at the unwelcome tightening in her throat.  "If I fail to persuade Caesar to stay away from the Senate tomorrow, then we set sail at dawn."
    Cleopatra looked down at her sleeping baby and felt dizzy at the idea of his father coming to harm, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and remain calm.  Falling apart now would not help Caesar.  She pulled the hood of her mantle up to hide her face in shadow, but just before slipping into the darkness of the unlit passage, she turned back to Iris and Apollodorus.
    "Guard my son well."
     
     
     
    Cleopatra ordered her driver to stop the chariot a short distance from Caesar's villa.  The moon had disappeared behind gathering storm clouds and bold flashes of lightning streaked across the sky. 
    As she neared the servant’s entrance at the rear of the villa, the sound of chariot wheels clamoring up from the deserted stable yard reached her ears.  Cleopatra paused.  She did not need witnesses to her midnight visit at Caesar’s home.  There had already been enough malicious gossip concerning herself and the beloved general. 
    She was about to head for another entrance, when a prickling down her spine made her peer into the stable yard. 
    The torchlight revealed a Roman soldier standing with one powerful hand gripping the reins of his two nervous stallions.  He was staring at her boldly, naked aggression burned in his dark blue eyes, his broad handsome face was flushed with wine.  Involuntarily, she looked up and he held her gaze.
    Cleopatra felt blood rushing to her cheeks as her pulse began to race.  Of course her reaction stemmed from indignation that he stared at her so openly, so ruthlessly, as if she were something on his battlefield to be conquered and ravished. 
    Or perhaps she was just someone he hated. 
    As she opened her mouth to speak, he smiled.  His full sensual lips revealed animal-white teeth and he growled out a low deep laugh. 
    Tossing his horse’s reins to his attendant, he bowed mockingly, his scarlet general’s cloak hanging off his broad shoulders and dusting the ground.  “Good evening, Queen Cleopatra of Egypt.”  It was spoken like an insult.
    She drew herself up.  He was drunk––as usual.  If this were not Caesar’s closest friend she would ignore him and walk away.  With the grace of a practiced courtier she kept her voice cool as she returned his greeting. “Good evening, Lord Antony.”
    Marc Antony raised his head, pushing his dark hair from his eyes, and staggered a few steps forward until she could smell the sweet scent of cloved wine mixed with his own musky sweat.  He was close enough to take her in his powerful arms, crush her against him.  And what?  Strangle her?
    These Romans were barbarians.  None of her subjects in Alexandria would dare look at her like this.  She drew her mantle closer across her breasts but forced herself not to step back. 
    His low laughter rumbled out from his deep chest again. “You have more courage than even I gave you credit for.  Coming to Caesar at his own villa while Calpurnia sleeps innocent as a babe by his side.”
    She let out a long