Shadow of Night (All Souls Trilogy, #2)(210)

“I have marbles. Do you know how to play ring taw?” Jack was eyeing my father with open speculation as he tried to determine whether the new arrival would be a useful person to have around.

“Master Proctor is here to speak with Mistress Roydon, Jack.” Matthew spun him around. “We need water, wine, and bread. You and Annie divide up the chores, and when Pierre gets back, he’ll take you to Moorfields.”

With some grumbling Jack accompanied Annie back out into the street. I met my father’s eyes at last. He had been watching Matthew and me without speaking, and the air was thick with his questions.

“Why are you here, honey?” my father repeated quietly when the children were gone.

“We thought we might find someone to help me out with some questions about magic and alchemy.” For some reason I didn’t want my father to know the details. “My teacher is called Goody Alsop. She and her coven have taken me in.”

“Nice try, Diana. I’m a witch, too, so I know when you’re skirting the truth.” My father sat back in his chair. “You’ll have to tell me eventually. I just thought this would save some time.”

“Why are you here, Stephen?” Matthew asked.

“Just hanging out. I’m an anthropologist. It’s what I do. What do you do?”

“I’m a scientist—a biochemist, based in Oxford.”

“You’re not just ‘hanging out’ in Elizabethan London, Dad. You have the page from Ashmole 782 already.” I suddenly understood why he was here. “You’re looking for the rest of the manuscript.” I lowered the wooden candle beam. Master Habermel’s astronomical compendium was nestled between two candles. We had to move it every day, because Jack found it every day.

“What page?” my father asked, sounding suspiciously innocent.

“The page with the picture of the alchemical wedding on it. It came from a Bodleian Library manuscript.” I opened the compendium. It was completely still, just as I expected. “Look, Matthew.”

“Cool,” my father said with a whistle.

“You should see her mousetrap,” Matthew said under his breath.

“What does it do?” My father reached for the compendium to take a closer look.

“It’s a mathematical instrument for telling time and tracking astronomical events like the phases of the moon. It started to move on its own when we were in Prague. I thought it meant someone was looking for Matthew and me, but now I wonder if it wasn’t picking up on you, looking for the manuscript.” It still acted up periodically, its wheels spinning without warning. Everybody in the house called it the “witch clock.”

“Maybe I should go get the book,” Matthew said, rising.

“It’s all right,” my father replied, motioning for him to sit. “There’s no rush. Rebecca isn’t expecting me for a few days.”

“So you’ll be here—in London?”

My father’s face softened. He nodded.

“Where are you staying?” Matthew asked.

“Here!” I said indignantly. “He’s staying here.”

“Your daughter has very definite opinions about her family checking into hotels,” Matthew told my father with a wry smile, remembering how I’d reacted when he’d tried to put Marcus and Miriam up in an inn in Cazenovia. “You’re welcome to stay with us, of course.”

“I’ve got rooms on the other side of town,” my father said hesitantly.

“Stay.” I pressed my lips together and blinked to keep back the tears. “Please.” I had so much I wanted to ask him, so many questions only he could answer. My father and husband exchanged a long look.

“All right,” my father said finally. “It would be great to hang out with you for a little while.”

I tried to give him our room, since Matthew wouldn’t be able to sleep with a strange person in the house and I could easily fit on the window seat, but my father refused. Pierre gave up his bed instead. I stood on the landing and listened enviously while Jack and my father chattered away like old friends.

“I think Stephen has everything he needs,” Matthew said, sliding his arms around me.

“Is he disappointed in me?” I wondered aloud.

“Your father?” Matthew sounded incredulous. “Of course not!”

“He seems a little uncomfortable.”

“When Stephen kissed you good-bye a few days ago, you were a toddler. He’s overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Does he know what’s going to happen to him and Mom?” I whispered.

“I don’t know, mon coeur, but I think so.” Matthew drew me toward our bedchamber. “Everything will look different in the morning.”

Matthew was right: My father was a bit more relaxed the next day, though he didn’t look as if he’d slept much. Neither did Jack.

“Does the kid always have such bad nightmares?” my father asked.

“I’m sorry he kept you up,” I apologized. “Change makes him anxious. Matthew usually takes care of him.”

“I know. I saw him,” my father said, sipping at the herbal tisane that Annie prepared.

That was the problem with my father: He saw everything. His watchfulness put vampires to shame. Though I had hundreds of questions, they all seemed to dry up under his quiet regard. Occasionally he asked me about something trivial. Could I throw a baseball? Did I think Bob Dylan was a genius? Had I been taught how to pitch a tent? He asked no questions about Matthew and me, or where I went to school, or even what I did for a living. Without any expression of interest on his part, I felt awkward volunteering the information. By the end of our first day together, I was practically in tears.