‘But you and Father chose to marry each other,’ Aurelia protested. ‘For love!’

‘We were lucky in that respect,’ her mother acknowledged. ‘Yet we did so without the approval of either of our families. Because we refused to follow their wishes not to wed, they cut us off.’ Atia’s face grew sad. ‘It made life quite difficult for many years. I never saw my parents again, for example. They never met you or Quintus.’

Aurelia was flattered. She’d never heard any of this before. ‘Surely it was worth it?’ she pleaded.

There was a slow nod. ‘It may have been, but I would not want the same hard path for you.’

Aurelia bridled. ‘Better that, surely, than being married to some fat old man?’

‘That won’t happen to you. Your father and I are not monsters.’ Atia lowered her voice. ‘But realise this, young lady: we will arrange your betrothal to someone of our choice. Is that clear?’

Seeing the steel in her mother’s eyes, Aurelia gave in. ‘Yes.’

Atia sighed, glad that her misgivings had gone unnoticed. ‘We understand each other then.’ Seeing Aurelia’s apprehension, she paused. ‘Do not fear. You will have love in your marriage. It can develop over time. Ask Martialis, Father’s old friend. He and his wife were betrothed to each other by their families, and ended up devoted to one another.’ She held out her hand. ‘Now, it’s time to get stuck in. Life goes on regardless of how we feel, and our family relies on this garden.’

With a faint smile, Aurelia reached out to grasp her mother’s fingers. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she’d thought.

All the same, she couldn’t help glancing up at the buzzard, and thinking of Quintus.

Quintus had followed the pack for perhaps a quarter of an hour before there was any hint that the quarry had been found.