“Don’t be such a bloody lobcock,” the vampire next to Giles said in a crisp British accent.
“Matthew’s already been Grand Master, and we were none the wiser. In fact, if memory serves, Matthew was an uncommonly good commander of the brotherhood in more than one tricky situation. I believe that Marcus, though a rebel and a traitor, shows promise as well.” The vampire smiled, but his nod toward Marcus was respectful.
“Thank you, Russell,” Marcus said. “Coming from you, that’s a compliment.”
“Terribly sorry about the brotherhood slip, Miriam,” Russell said with a wink. “And I’m no physician, but I do believe that Matthew is about to render Baldwin unconscious.”
Matthew adjusted his arm slightly, and Baldwin’s eyeballs returned to their normal position.
“My father’s blood rage is under control. There’s no reason for us to act out of fear and superstition,” Marcus said, addressing everyone in the church. “The Knights of Lazarus were founded to protect the vulnerable. Every member of the order swore an oath to defend all his or her fellow knights to the death. I needn’t remind anyone here that Matthew is a knight. So, too, are his children.”
The need for an infant investiture for Rebecca and Philip made sense now.
“So what do you say, Uncle?” Marcus strode down the aisle to stand before Baldwin and Matthew. “Are you still a knight, or have you become a coward in your old age?”
Baldwin turned purple—and not from lack of oxygen.
“Careful, Marcus,” Matthew warned. “I will have to let him go eventually.”
“Knight.” Baldwin looked at Marcus with loathing.
“Then start behaving like one and treat my father with the respect he’s earned.” Marcus looked around the church. “Matthew and Diana want to establish a scion, and the Knights of Lazarus will support them when they do. Anybody who disagrees is welcome to formally challenge my leadership.
Otherwise the matter is not up for discussion.”
The church was absolutely silent.
Matthew’s lips lifted into a smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Marcus said. “We’ve still got the Congregation to contend with.”
“An unpleasant task, to be sure, but not an unmanageable one,” Russell said drily. “Let Baldwin go, Matthew. Your brother has never been very fast, and Oliver is at your left elbow. He’s been longing to teach Baldwin a lesson ever since your brother broke his daughter’s heart.”
Several of the guests chuckled and the winds of opinion began to blow in our favor.
Slowly Matthew did as Russell suggested. He made no attempt to get away from his brother or to shield me. Baldwin remained on his knees for a few moments, then climbed to his feet. As soon as he did, Matthew knelt before him.
“I place my trust in you, sieur,” Matthew said, bowing his head. “I ask for your trust in return.
Neither I nor mine will dishonor the de Clermont family.”
“You know I cannot, Matthew,” Baldwin said. “A vampire with blood rage is never in control, not absolutely.” His eyes flickered to Jack, but it was Benjamin he was thinking of—and Matthew.
“And if a vampire could be?” I demanded.
“Diana, this is no time for wishful thinking. I know that you and Matthew have been hoping for a cure, but—”
“If I gave you my word, as Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, that any of Matthew’s kin with blood rage can be brought under control, would you recognize him as the head of his family?” I was inches away from Baldwin, and my power was humming. My suspicion that my disguising spell had burned away was borne out by the curious looks I received.