“You will have your privacy on the second floor,” Ysabeau explained. “There are only two bedrooms on that level, as well as Matthew’s study and a small sitting room. Now that the house is yours, you may arrange things as you like, of course.”
“Where are the rest of you sleeping?” I asked as Ysabeau turned onto the second-floor landing.
“Phoebe and I have rooms on the floor above you. Marthe prefers to sleep on the lower ground floor, in the housekeeper’s rooms. If you feel crowded, Phoebe and I can move into Marcus’s home. It is near St. James’s Palace, and once belonged to Matthew.”
“I can’t imagine that will be necessary,” I said, thinking of the size of the house.
“We’ll see. Your bedchamber.” Ysabeau pushed open a wide, paneled door with a gleaming brass knob. I gasped.
Everything in the room was in shades of green, silver, pale gray, and white. The walls were papered with hand-painted depictions of branches and leaves against a pale gray background. Silver accents gave the effect of moonlight, the mirrored moon in the center of the ceiling’s plasterwork appearing to be the source of the light. A ghostly female face looked down from the mirror with a serene smile. Four depictions of Nyx, the personification of night, anchored the four quadrants of the room’s ceiling, her veil billowing out in a smoky black drapery that was painted so realistically it looked like actual fabric. Silver stars were entangled in the veiling, catching the light from the windows and the mirror’s reflection.
“It is extraordinary, I agree,” Ysabeau said, pleased by my reaction. “Matthew wanted to create the effect of being outside in the forest, under a moonlit sky. Once this bedchamber was decorated, he said it was too beautiful to use and moved to the room next door.”
Ysabeau went to the windows and drew the curtains open. The bright light revealed an ancient four-poster canopied bed set into a recess in the wall, which slightly minimized its considerable size. The bed hangings were silk and bore the same design as the wallpaper. Another large-scale mirror topped the fireplace, trapping images of trees on the wallpaper and sending them back into the room. The shining surface reflected the room’s furniture, too: the small dressing table between the large windows, the chaise by the fire, the gleaming flowers and leaves inlaid into the low walnut chest of drawers. The room’s decoration and furnishings must have cost Matthew a fortune.
My eyes fell on a vast canvas of a sorceress sitting on the ground and sketching magical symbols. It hung on the wall opposite the bed, between the tall windows. A veiled woman had interrupted the sorceress’s work, her outstretched hand suggesting that she wanted the witch’s help. It was an odd choice of subject for a vampire’s house.
“Whose room was this, Ysabeau?”
“I think Matthew made it for you—only he did not realize it at the time.” Ysabeau twitched open another pair of curtains.
“Has another woman slept here?” There was no way I could rest in a room that Juliette Durand had once 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 tell you 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.
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, Ysabeau?”
“Yes.” Her one-word response was more trustworthy than any lengthy vow. “First 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 of a scion 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 about Benjamin and the blood rage,” I said.
“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.