The Virgin's Spy (Tudor Legacy #2)(103)

That is, if one was not awaiting a pronouncement on one’s fate. Pippa fidgeted in the chair Dr. Dee had pulled out for her, her eyes skipping over the homely clutter: from books to astronomical instruments to opened chests spilling over with paper. The one place she did not look was at the portfolio before Dr. Dee.

“Lady Philippa,” he said gently, “there is no need to be frightened.”

“I’m not frightened,” she answered scornfully. It might have been more convincing if her voice had not wobbled.

“Do your parents know that you asked me for a star chart?”

“No. Why?”

“Did you know that I once read their charts? Long ago, when the queen was a princess and the king was in love.”

“With my mother.” Silence, since there was no need to confirm the obvious. “What did their charts say?”

He smiled at that. “You know better than to ask. A star chart is private, and made only at the request of the named individual. Although once…one time only did I make a chart for someone who did not ask it of me. But that has no relevance to you. I did this at your request, Philippa. If you ask, I will burn it unread and unexplored. The choice is always yours.”

“The choice to know—but not the choice of what will happen.”

“Ah, the arrogance of the young, so certain that their lives must be marked out in indelible paths.” He leaned on the desk, fingers laced together. “I will tell you what I once told Queen Elizabeth—I do not make the stars. God alone knows what paths you will walk. I endeavour merely to shed light on a point or two along that path. You need not fear what I can tell you.”

Pippa laughed just a little, relieved despite herself. “I suppose if that is true of the queen, it would be arrogance to assume more of myself.” She nodded at the portfolio. “Tell me.”

He opened the portfolio to reveal a sheet on which was drawn a large circle, divided into twelve sections. Some of the sections were blank while others contained astrological and mathematical symbols. If Dr. Dee had written out his conclusions based on that chart, he did not refer to it now but simply spoke to her.

“Do you need me to tell you that the time and place of your birth ensured you an inquisitive mind and passionate nature? The two are often at odds. Your life is a long experience of duality—pushing and pulling, not against the world, but against your own nature. Saint or sinner, realist or fantasist, mystic or witch…the world will never know how to read you as long as you do not embrace both sides of your nature.”

“You’re telling me to be more like Kit?” she teased, but only halfheartedly. What he said felt…true. And uncomfortable.

“Your twin’s stars will be subtly different from yours, even born so near together. And I am not telling you what to do or not to do—I am merely explaining you to yourself. As you have long had occasion to explain others to themselves.”

She dipped her head in wry acknowledgment, then said, “If I were to ask about places in my future…?” She trailed off.

“As you are planning to go north with Princess Anne, I expect you already know the answer to that. But if you like, I will tell you anyway: You are meant to go north, Philippa. In that place, you will be a beacon of hope.”

You will light the beacon, Do?a Catalina had said. But your princess will command the flames.

For the last few years the North had called to Pippa. Yorkshire, Leeds, the borderlands of England and Scotland—she had long known that her path was leading her north. It was only…

Softly, John Dee asked, “What is it you fear in the North?”

Rushlight and fog, insistent hands and curious faces, melodious Spanish voices mixed with the unmistakable lilt of the Scots, the certain knowledge that she was dying…

“Not fear,” she answered. “Not exactly.”

She rose, and Dee followed, slowly. He hesitated, then said, “Is there nothing else you care to ask me? Most everyone is anxious to know—”

“How long their life will last?” She met his eyes and fixed on them. “There is nothing you could tell me that I do not already know for myself.”

It hung in the balance whether he would press her. But John Dee was an English gentleman, always prepared to default to reticence. “Pippa,” and his use of her nickname made tears prick at her eyes, “thank you for allowing me to sight your stars. It has been a privilege.”

“If I said my only unanswered worries were about my family…I don’t suppose you have any insight?”

“Your family was created from the strongest of loves, tested by fire and death. Love does not preclude pain, but it will heal it. In time.”

She surprised them both by kissing him on the cheek. Her heart was lighter than she’d expected as she left. She was not—had never been—afraid of death. She was afraid of leaving things undone, of thinking too much and waiting too long, so wary of making the wrong move that she made no move at all.

She had taken the first step by advising Anabel to go north. Tonight had been the second step.

And third?

Matthew. She must do something about Matthew Harrington.

Pippa just didn’t know what.





To Katie,

as necessary to me

as air and water

and Diet Coke