She smiled, then seemed lost in thought for a moment before continuing. ‘I only hope my new husband is as diligent as you.’

There it was again, Marcus thought. That sad tone in her voice. He did not know what to say, if anything. Their worlds were so different and Portia might consider it unacceptable for him to address the subject of her married life. Yet she had also been close enough to call a friend. He cared for Portia and wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Yet she clearly was not.

‘Mistress...’

‘When there is no one else present, I am only Portia to you,’ she said.

Marcus nodded. ‘Very well... Portia. You don’t seem very content.’

‘Why should I be? Lupus is dead.’

‘But it’s not Lupus’s fate that upsets you. There’s more to it than that.’

‘No, there isn’t,’ she said defiantly, glaring at Marcus and daring him to challenge her. ‘I am perfectly happy. Perfectly.’

He sighed and pretended to turn his attention back to the last few morsels on his plate. He selected a small pastry encrusted with salt. ‘If you say so.’

There was a silence and then he heard the soft sound of muffled sobbing. Looking up, he saw that Portia had buried her face in her hands and her shoulders heaved as she cried. At once he slipped off his couch and went to sit by her. He hesitated a moment, then reached out a hand and patted her softly on the shoulder.

‘I’m sorry, Portia. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

She sobbed again, then drew a breath to reply. ‘It’s not you. It’s me ... It’s my fault.’

‘What’s your fault?’

‘I’m not sure.’ She raised her head as she sat up, and Marcus’s hand slipped away. As soon as Portia’s eyes were level with his, he felt her take his hand in hers. The thin dark lines of kohl round her eyes had smudged and her lower lip trembled. ‘I try to please Quintus. I try to be the wife he deserves, but he ignores me. I am too young to be his wife, and he is too young to be a husband. I have barely spoken to him this last month. He is out of the house almost all the time, and sometimes does not come home at nights. I’ve heard that he is losing his fortune in dice games. When I asked him about it, he was angry and threatened to hit me.’

‘Why didn’t you say something to your uncle earlier?’

‘How could I? I know how important this marriage is to Uncle Caius. He needs Pompeius as an ally. Besides... perhaps I am just being silly. Maybe this is what marriage is like. If I told my uncle he would be angry with me and tell me to pull myself together, I know it.’

If Caesar said that, he would be wrong,’ Marcus replied firmly. ‘You don’t deserve to be treated like this.’