“There are many good reasons to hate Louisa at this moment,” Matthew said grimly, “but here is something to be thankful for: She did not wish to kill you. Louisa’s aim is impeccable. Had she wanted to put her lance through your heart, you would be dead.”
“Louisa was too preoccupied with the prophecy that Gerbert shared with Ysabeau.”
Gallowglass and Matthew exchanged looks.
“It’s nothing,” Matthew said dismissively, “just some idiotic thing he dreamed up to excite Maman.”
“It was Meridiana’s prophecy, wasn’t it?” I had known it in my bones ever since Louisa mentioned it. The words brought back memories of Gerbert’s touch at La Pierre. And they had made the air around Louisa snap with electricity, as though she were Pandora and had taken the lid off a trove of long-forgotten magic.
“Meridiana wanted to frighten Gerbert about the future. She did.” Matthew shook his head. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Your father is the lion. You are the wolf.” Ice pooled in the pit of my stomach. It told me something was wrong with me, inside where the light could never quite reach. I looked at my husband, one of the children of the night mentioned in the prophecy. Our first child had already died. I shuttered my thoughts, not wanting to hold them in my heart or my head long enough to make an impression. But it did no good. There was too much honesty between us now to hide from Matthew—or myself.
“You have nothing to fear,” Matthew said, brushing his lips over mine. “You are too full of life to be a harbinger of destruction.”
I let him reassure me, but my sixth sense ignored him. Somehow, somewhere, something was wrong. Something dangerous and deadly had been unleashed. Even now I could feel its threads tightening, drawing me toward the darkness.
Chapter Thirty Six
I was waiting under the sign of the Golden Gosling for Annie to pick up some stew for tonight’s supper when the steady regard of a vampire drove the hint of summer from the air.
“Father Hubbard,” I said, turning in the direction of the coldness.
The vampire’s eyes flickered over my rib cage. “I am surprised your husband allows you to walk about the city unaccompanied, given what happened at Greenwich—and that you are carrying his child.”
My firedrake, who had become fiercely protective since the incident in the tiltyard, coiled her tail around my hips.
“Everybody knows that wearhs can’t father children on warmblooded women,” I said dismissively.
“It seems that the impossible holds little sway with a witch such as you.” Hubbard’s grim countenance tightened further. “Most creatures believe that Matthew’s contempt for witches is unchangeable, for example. Few would entertain the notion that it was he who made it possible for Barbara Napier to escape the pyre in Scotland.” The events in Berwick continued to occupy Matthew’s time as well as creature and human gossip in London.
“Matthew was nowhere near Scotland at the time.”
“He didn’t need to be. Hancock was in Edinburgh, posing as one of Napier’s ‘friends.’ It was he who brought the matter of her pregnancy to the court’s attention.” Hubbard’s breath was cold and smelled of the forest.
“The witch was innocent of the charges against her,” I said brusquely, drawing my shawl around my shoulders. “The jury acquitted her.”
“Of a single charge.” Hubbard held my gaze. “She was found guilty of many more. And, given your recent return, perhaps you have not heard: King James found a way to reverse the jury’s decision in Napier’s case.”
“Reverse it?” I’d never heard of such a thing.
“The king of Scots is not greatly enamored of the Congregation these days, no small thanks to your husband. Matthew’s slippery sense of the covenant and his interference in Scottish politics have inspired His Majesty to find his own legal loopholes. James is putting the jurors who acquitted the witch on trial themselves. They are charged with miscarrying the king’s justice. Intimidating the jurors will better ensure the outcome of future trials.”
“That wasn’t Matthew’s plan,” I said, my mind reeling.
“It sounds sufficiently devious for Matthew de Clermont. Napier and her babe may live, but dozens more innocent creatures will die because of it.” Hubbard’s expression was deadly. “Isn’t that what the de Clermonts want? To win at any cost?”
“How dare you!”