A long trickle of perspiration had already started from the damp curls at my hairline; I let it run, slowly across my left temple, then with a sudden rush past my ear, down my neck and onto my chest. It splashed off, onto the towel across my lap.
'Do I take it this is news to you?' the Senator asked levelly.
'True.'
My reluctance to believe that she could keep back something so vital clashed against vivid memories of Helena fainting; unwell; turning back from climbing Vesuvius; worried about money… Helena crying in my arms for reasons I had never found out. Then other memories, more intimate and more intense. 'Evidently not my business to know!'
'Ah,' said her father, accepting this bleakly. 'I'll be blunt: my wife and I assumed it was.' I said nothing. He began to look more doubtful. 'Are you denying that it is possible?'
'No.' I never doubted that Camillus Verus had guessed my feelings for his daughter early on. I adopted professional banter as a temporary defence; 'Look, a private informer who leads a lively social life is bound to find women who want more from him than he bargained for. So far I never had any difficulty persuading a magistrate they were vexatious claims!'
'Be serious, Falco.'
I drew a harsh breath. 'I don't suppose you want me to congratulate you, sir. I don't imagine you are congratulating me…' If I sounded irritable, that was because I was starting to burn with a furious sense of injustice.
'Would it be so terrible?'
'Just terrifying!' I said, which was the truth.
The Senator gave me a stressful smile. I already knew he thought enough of me to think that if I was what his daughter wanted, the two of us were capable of managing, even without the usual domestic trappings of money to pay the baker or parental support… He dropped a hand onto my arm. 'Have I upset you?'
'Frankly, I'm not sure.'
Camillus then tried to draw me in as his ally. 'Look, there is no point me trying to protest my senatorial rights like some old-fashioned censor. This is not illegal-'
'And it's not helpful!' I exclaimed.
'Don't say that! There was enough harm done when Helena was married to Atius Pertinax; that was a mistake which I have promised myself never to repeat. I want to see her happy.' He sounded desperate. Of course he loved his daughter more than he should-but then, so did I.
'I can't protect her from herself!' I stopped. 'No, that's unfair. She never ceases to amaze me with her clear-eyed good sense-' Her father started to protest. 'No, she's right, sir! She deserves a better life than she could ever have with me. Her children deserve better; as a matter of fact, so do mine! Sir, I can't discuss this.' For one thing, she would hate to know we were doing it. 'Can we change the subject? There is something else we need to consider urgently. You mentioned Atius Pertinax, and he's the crux of it. Have you heard what the situation is?'
He let out an angry expression; Camillus Verus had no time for his son-in-law. Most fathers feel that, but in his case he was right: his daughter was too good for the man, who was contemptible.
He knew Pertinax was still alive; I warned him that the fugitive might have transferred himself to Rome.
'With hindsight, sending Helena here was none too wise. But I know your views, sir. Until I can apprehend him, will you ensure she stays safe at home?'
'Of course. Well… as far as I can. But her condition should stop her rushing about,' he reminded me unavoidably.
I paused. 'Is she well?'
'No one tells me anything,' her father complained. When he spoke of his womenfolk Camillus Verus always adopted a downtrodden pose, as if they took the traditional view of a pater familias: someone who was there to pay the bills, make a lot of noise no one listened to-and be led by the nose. 'She looks peaky.'
'Yes, I noticed that.'
We exchanged a tense glance.