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rancor, his nod deferential. “My daughter is a weaver. She makes her own clothing.”
    The front door opened with a loud squeak, and her mother stepped out. She stood next to Adrenia and dwarfed her with considerable height. Large for a woman, she was taller than her husband by a couple of inches. The centurion and the optio both saluted her.
    Terentius nodded. “Good day, madam.”
    Her mother’s lips went firm with disapproval. “What is going on, Brigomalla?”
    “Nothing to concern yourself with, Ulpia,” Adrenia’s father said. “These men assisted our daughter along the road and brought her home to us.”
    Her mother’s frosty eyes warmed as she walked closer to the centurion’s horse. Her voice went throaty, almost seductive. “Thank you kindly. Our daughter is indeed precious to us. She shouldn’t be out alone.”
    “My thoughts exactly.” The centurion’s gaze lacked the warmth Adrenia had basked in earlier. “Come, Victor. We’re off to the fort.”
    With last salutes, the soldiers drew the horses around and left. Adrenia’s entire body braced for what would come. The inevitableness of it beat in a slow, painful way inside her heart. Once the men reached a sufficient distance away, her mother and father turned toward her.
    Her mother’s mouth curled in derision. “You, whore . You never, ever wear a soldier’s cloak unless you’re his bitch.”
    Adrenia fumbled with the broach. A stinging slap cracked across her cheek, whipping her head back. Reeling with dizziness, Adrenia fell on her butt to the ground and looked up at her mother with pure hate. Blood welled up Adrenia’s lip and dribbled onto the cloak. No. No. She imagined the centurion’s anger if he knew she’d soiled his cloak.
    “He insisted I wear it,” Adrenia mumbled.
    Her father stood over her, his expression filled with coldness. “Are you his bitch, Adrenia?”
    She winced at the pain in her lip and the freezing, slicing tone in his voice. She felt a tremendous need to defend the soldier after his kindness to her. “He’s a gentleman and did nothing improper.”
    “Get up.” Her mother glanced warily at her father, as if suddenly afraid. “Get up and go into the house. You’ll clean and cook tonight. Your sisters and their husbands will be here in two hours.”
    Aching in every bone, Adrenia stood slowly. She unhooked the cloak, holding the broach in one hand and draping the heavy wool over her left arm. When she went inside and headed for her room, she ached with the horrible knowledge that she’d experienced something wonderful. Terentius, as she would think of him privately, had talked with her and touched her the way no man had before. As her fingers felt the rough, warm weave of his cloak, she wondered what god or goddess had sent him to her, only to have him leave. Foolish wants she couldn’t remember having before assaulted her as she spread the cloak out on her bed. The large cloak almost covered the entire surface and draped over the edges. She sat on the bed and listened wearily to her mother’s voice droning outside the house. She drank in the overwhelming thoughts swirling unfettered in her mind. Three words pounded in her skull and chased away all aches, pains, hunger, and worries.
    Terentius Marius Atellus.
    She drew in a deep breath and remembered how he smelled. Musk. Leather. Powerful male. An entity almost foreign. Oh, she’d seen attractive men before, even a few pleasant-looking soldiers from the auxiliary at the fort. Still…none had stirred inside her something new, awakened a part that once aroused could never be suppressed or forgotten.
    She smoothed her hand over the rough cloak. Amazing that mother and father hadn’t taken it from her. When the front door opened, she rose to her feet and prepared to face an interminable evening. A small smile touched her mouth as did a gentle light in her heart. No matter what happened this evening, she would have this small treasure to remember