occupied.
“Matthew took his lovers elsewhere,” Ysabeau answered, equally blunt. When she saw my expression, she softened her tone. “He has many houses. Most of them mean nothing to him. Some do.
This is one of them. He would not have given you a gift he didn’t value himself.”
“I never believed that being separated from him would be so hard.” My voice was muted.
“Being the consort in a vampire family is never easy,” Ysabeau said with a sad smile. “And sometimes being apart is the only way to stay together. Matthew had no choice but to leave you this time.”
“Did Philippe ever banish you from his side?” I studied my composed mother-in-law with open curiosity.
“Of course. Mostly Philippe sent me away when I was an unwelcome distraction. On other occasions to keep me from being implicated if disaster struck—and in his family it struck more often than not.” She smiled. “My husband always commanded me to go when he knew I would not be able to resist meddling and was worried for my safety.”
“So Matthew learned how to be overprotective from Philippe?” I asked, thinking of all the times he had stepped into harm’s way to keep me from it.
“Matthew had mastered the art of fussing over the woman he loved long before he became a vampire,” Ysabeau replied softly. “You know that.”
“And did you always obey Philippe’s orders?”
“No more than you obey Matthew.” Ysabeau’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “And you will quickly discover that you are never so free to make your own decisions as when Matthew is off being patriarchal with someone else. Like me, you might even come to look forward to these moments apart.”
“I doubt it.” I pressed a fist into the small of my back in an effort to work out the kinks. It was something Matthew usually did. “I should explain what happened in New Haven.”
“You must never explain Matthew’s actions to anyone,” Ysabeau said sharply. “Vampires don’t tell tales for a reason. Knowledge is power in our world.”
“You’re Matthew’s mother. Surely I’m not supposed to keep secrets from you.” I sifted through the events of the past few days. “Matthew discovered the identity of one of Benjamin’s children—and met a great-grandson he didn’t know he had.” Of all the strange twists and turns our lives had taken, meeting up with Jack and his father had to be the most significant, not least because we were now in Father Hubbard’s city. “His name is Jack Blackfriars, and he lived in our household in 1591.”
“So my son knows at last about Andrew Hubbard,” Ysabeau said, her face devoid of emotion. “You knew?” I cried.
“Philippe was concerned about Jack’s blood rage. He wanted me to meet the boy, in case I saw any worrying behavior.” Ysabeau’s smile would have terrified me—once. “And do you still think I deserve your complete honesty, daughter?”
Matthew had warned me that I wasn’t equipped to lead a pack of vampires.
“You are a sire’s consort, Diana. You must learn to tell others only what they need to know, and nothing more,” she instructed.
Here was my first lesson learned, but there were sure to be more.
“Will you teach me what I need to know, Ysabeau?”
“Yes.” Her one-word response was more trustworthy than any lengthy vow. “But you must be careful, Diana. Even though you are Matthew’s mate and his consort, you are a de Clermont and must remain so until this matter is settled. Your status in Philippe’s family will protect Matthew.”
“Matthew said the Congregation will try to kill him—and Jack, too—once they find out,” I whispered.
“They will try. We will not let them. But for now you must rest.” Ysabeau pulled back the bed’s silk coverlet and plumped the pillows.
I circled the enormous bed, wrapping my hand around one of the posts that supported the canopy.
The carving under my fingers felt familiar. I’ve slept in this bed before, I realized. This was not another woman’s bed. It was mine. It had been in our house in the Blackfriars in 1590 and had somehow survived all these centuries to end up in a chamber that Matthew had dedicated to moonlight and enchantment.
I slept for nearly twenty-four hours, and it might have been longer but for a loud car alarm that pulled me out of my dreams and plunged me into an unfamiliar, green-tinged darkness. It was only then that other sounds penetrated my consciousness: the bustle of traffic on the street outside my windows, a door closing somewhere in the house, a quickly hushed conversation in