Home > Books > Shadow of Night (All Souls #2)(248)

Shadow of Night (All Souls #2)(248)

Author:Deborah Harkness

“That’s Master Proctor,” Matthew said, catching Jack around the waist. “Did you feed Mop on your way in?” There had been no way to separate boy and dog in Prague, so Mop had come to London, where his strange appearance made him something of a local curiosity.

“Of course I fed Mop. He eats my shoes if I forget, and Pierre said he would pay for one new pair without telling you about it, but not a second.” Jack clapped his hand over his mouth.

“I am sorry, Mistress Roydon. He ran down the street and I couldn’t catch him.” A frowning Annie rushed into the room, then stopped short, the color draining from her face as she stared at my father.

“It’s all right, Annie,” I said gently. She had been afraid of unfamiliar creatures ever since Greenwich. “This is Master Proctor. He’s a friend.”

“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.