my children—our children—and I would make sure that they were allowed to find their own path, not follow the one that destiny and fate handed them. “Hello, Father. Are you watching?”
Matthew stared at his computer screen, his phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear. This time Benjamin had called to deliver the message. He wanted to hear Matthew’s reactions to what he was seeing on the screen.
“I understand that congratulations are in order.” Benjamin’s voice was pinched with fatigue. The body of a dead witch lay on an operating table behind him, cut open in a vain attempt to save the child she’d been carrying. “A girl. A boy, too.”
“What do you want?” The question was expressed calmly, but Matthew was seething inside. Why could no one find his godforsaken son?
“Your wife and daughter, of course.” Benjamin’s eyes hardened. “Your witch is fertile. Why is that, Matthew?”
Matthew remained silent.
“I’ll find out what makes your witch so special.” Benjamin leaned forward and smiled. “You know I will. If you tell me what I want to know now, I won’t have to extract it from her later.”
“You will never touch her.” Matthew’s voice—and his control—broke. Upstairs a baby cried.
“Oh, but I will,” Benjamin promised softly. “Over and over again, until Diana Bishop gives me what I want.”
I couldn’t have slept for more than thirty or forty minutes before Rebecca’s furious cries woke me.
When my bleary eyes focused, I saw that Matthew was walking her in front of the fireplace, murmuring endearments and words of comfort.
“I know. The world can be a harsh place, little one. It will be easier to bear in time. Can you hear the logs crackle? See the lights play on the wall? That’s fire, Rebecca. You may have it in your veins, like your mother. Shh. It’s just a shadow. Nothing but a shadow.” Matthew cuddled the baby closer, crooning a French lullaby.
Chut! Plus de bruit, C’est la ronde de nuit, En diligence, faisons silence.
Marchons sans bruit, C’est la ronde de nuit.
Matthew de Clermont was in love. I smiled at his adoring expression.
“Dr. Sharp said they’d be hungry,” I told him from the bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My lip caught in my teeth. She had also explained that premature babies could be difficult to feed because the muscles they needed in order to suckle hadn’t developed sufficiently.
“Shall I get Marthe?” Matthew asked above Rebecca’s insistent cries. He knew that I was nervous about breast-feeding.
“Let’s try it on our own,” I said. Matthew positioned a pillow in my lap and handed me Rebecca.
Then he woke Philip, who was sleeping soundly. Both Sarah and Marthe had drummed into me the importance of nursing both children at the same time, or else I would no sooner feed one than the other would be hungry.
“Philip is going to be the troublemaker,” Matthew said contentedly, lifting him from the cradle.
Philip frowned at his father, his huge eyes blinking.
“How can you tell?” I shifted Rebecca slightly to make room for Philip.
“He’s too quiet,” Matthew said with a grin.
It took several tries before Philip latched on. Rebecca, however, was impossible.
“She won’t stop crying long enough to suck,” I said in frustration.
Matthew put his finger in her mouth, and she obediently closed it around the tip. “Let’s switch them. Maybe the scent of the colostrum—and her brother—will convince Rebecca to give it a try.”
We made the necessary adjustments. Philip screamed like a banshee when Matthew moved him, and he hiccupped and huffed a bit on the other breast just to make sure we understood that such interruptions would not be tolerated in the future. There were a few snuffling moments of indecision while Rebecca rooted around to see what the fuss was about before she cautiously took my breast. After her first suck, her eyes popped wide.
“Ah. Now she understands. Didn’t I tell you, little one?” Matthew murmured. “Maman is the answer for everything.”
Sol in Sagittarius
Sagittarius governs faith, religion, writings, bookes, and the interpretation of dreames.
Those born under the signe of the archer shall work great wonders and receive much honour and joye.
While Sagittarius rules the heavens, consult with lawyers about thy business.
It is a good season for making oaths and striking bargains.
—Anonymous English Commonplace Book, c. 1590, Gonçalves Manuscript 4890, f. 14r
32
“The twins are ten days old. Don’t you think they’re a bit young to be made members of a chivalric order?” I yawned and walked up and down the second-floor hallway with Rebecca, who was resentful of being removed