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Back The House with the Golden Door Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR
  3. PRAISE FOR
  4. Dedication
  5. 75 CE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. FLORALIA
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. LEMURIA
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. NEMORALIA
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 76 CE
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. EPILOGUE
  59. AFTERWORD
  60. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

She glances over at the box where her patron is sitting, as if she might seek his reassurance, even though she cannot see him. The blank wall brings her no comfort. Rufus has placed her here, dressed in scarlet, borrowed jewels pinned to her body, and even if he does not understand the truth today, he will eventually: she is Bacchis. Amara thinks back to the night he revealed his anger, remembering his words—it’s tainted you. She closes her eyes, imagining herself at home, safe in her private study, not set here, on public display, smiling through her fear.

18

“First Writer: ‘Lovers, like bees, live a honeyed life.’

Second Writer: ‘I wish.’ ”

—Pompeii graffiti exchange

Amara is carried back from the theater in a litter. Evening is only just falling, but she cannot join Drusilla for dinner without Rufus present, not when there are men attending, and her patron is with his family tonight. Inside the litter, it is dark, the curtains cocooning her, screening her from passersby but also shutting her in. She tries to enjoy the luxury of being carried, but it makes her nervous to think of her weight bearing down on the shoulders of the men outside, the poles bruising their flesh. The disorientation of not seeing where she is going means it is both a relief and a surprise when the litter comes to a stop. The bearers lower her to the ground, and she steps out onto the pavement. Amara knocks on the tall front door, the men who have carried her a shadow at her back. The heavy wood creaks open, and she slips inside.

Juventus does not immediately step back when she enters. Amara tries to move out of the way, but he leans across her to bolt the door, forcing her to squeeze past or be trapped. She hurries out of the corridor while he is busy locking up, swiftly crossing the atrium to her room, pretending to herself that she is not afraid of him.

Light flickers over the dancing nymphs painted on the walls of her room, giving the illusion of movement. Martha has left a lamp burning for her on the table by the couch. Beside it is a glass of wine—perhaps the maid imagined her mistress might want to indulge in some solitary celebrations for the Floralia. Amara thinks of Dido and, not for the first time since Rufus freed her, wonders if she would trade everything she has, even endure being in the Wolf Den, to have Dido back again.

There is a noise from the atrium, no doubt Juventus checking over the house before settling down to sleep. Amara resists the urge to take both wine and lamp and lock herself in her bedroom. It’s not as if she is totally alone in the house with the doorman. Philos, Martha and Britannica must be somewhere around too.