“Not for a timewalker,” I replied.
“Timewalker?” Baldwin was stunned.
“Diana and I have been in the past,” Matthew explained. “In 1590, to be exact. We were here at Sept-Tours just before Christmas.”
“You saw Philippe?” Baldwin’s expression was shocked.
“We did. Philippe was alone that winter. He sent a coin and ordered me home,” Matthew said The de Clermonts present understood their father’s private code: When a command was sent along with one of Philippe’s ancient silver coins, the recipient was to obey without question.
“December? That means we have to endure five more months of Philippe’s bloodsong,” Verin muttered, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as though her head ached. I frowned.
“Why five months?” I asked.
“According to our legends, a vampire’s blood vow sings for a year and a day. All vampires can hear it, but the song is particularly loud and clear to those who carry Philippe’s blood in their veins,” Baldwin said.
“Philippe said he wanted there to be no doubt I was a de Clermont,” I said, looking up at Matthew.
All the vampires who had met me in the sixteenth century must have heard Philippe’s blood song and known I was not only Matthew’s mate but also Philippe de Clermont’s daughter. Philippe had been protecting me during every step of our journey through the past.
“No witch will ever be recognized as a de Clermont.” Baldwin’s voice was flat and final.
“I already am.” I held up my left hand so he could see my wedding ring. “Matthew and I are married as well as mated. Your father hosted the ceremony. If Saint-Lucien’s parish registers survive, you’ll find our wedding took place on the seventh of December, 1590.”
“What we will likely find, should we go to the village, is that a single page has been torn out of the priest’s book,” Verin said under her breath. “Atta always covered his tracks.”
“Whether you and Matthew are married is of no consequence, for Matthew is not a true de Clermont either,” Baldwin said coldly. “He is merely the child of my father’s mate.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I protested. “Philippe considered Matthew his son. Matthew calls you brother and Verin sister.”
“I am not that whelp’s sister. We share no blood, only a name,” Verin said. “And thank God for it.”
“You will find, Diana, that marriage and mating don’t count for much with the de Clermonts,” said a quiet voice with a marked Spanish or Portuguese accent. It came from the mouth of a stranger standing just inside the door. His dark hair and espresso-colored eyes set off his pale golden skin and light shirt.
“Your presence wasn’t requested, Fernando,” Baldwin said angrily.
“As you know, I come when I’m needed, not when I’m called.” Fernando bowed slightly in my direction. “Fernando Gon?alves. I am very sorry for your loss.”
The man’s name pricked at my memory. I’d heard it somewhere before.
“You’re the man Matthew asked to lead the Knights of Lazarus when he gave up the position of grand master,” I said, finally placing him. Fernando Gon?alves was reputed to be one of the brotherhood’s most formidable warriors. Judging by the breadth of his shoulders and his overall fitness, I had no doubt this was true.
“He did.” Like that of all vampires, Fernando’s voice was warm and rich, filling the room with otherworldly sound. “But Hugh de Clermont is my mate. Ever since he died alongside the Templars, I have had little to do with chivalric orders, for even the bravest knights lack the courage to keep their promises.” Fernando fixed his dark eyes on Matthew’s brother. “Isn’t that right, Baldwin?”