“That’s definitely one of her happy noises,” I said, putting a pan of cookies in the oven. Rebecca adored her father, especially when he sang. Philip was less sure that singing was a good idea.
“And are you happy, too, little man?” Matthew picked Philip up from his bouncy seat, narrowly missing the flying banana I’d tossed into the mobile at the last minute. It was like a bright yellow comet, streaking through the other orbiting fruit. “What a lucky boy you are to have a mother who will make magic for you.”
Philip, like most babies his age, was all eyes as he watched the orange and the lime circle the grapefruit I’d suspended in midair.
“He won’t always think that having a witch for a mommy is so wonderful.” I went to the fridge and searched for the vegetables I needed for the gratin. When I closed the door, I discovered Matthew waiting for me behind it. I jumped in surprise.
“You have to start making a noise or giving me some other clue to warn me that you’re moving,” I complained, pressing my hand against my hammering heart.
Matthew’s compressed lips told me that he was annoyed.
“Do you see that woman, Philip?” He pointed to me, and Philip directed his wiggling head my way.
“She is a brilliant scholar and a powerful witch, though she doesn’t like to admit it. And you have the great good fortune to call her Maman. That means you are one of the few creatures who will ever learn this family’s most cherished secret.” Matthew drew Philip close to him and murmured something in his ear.
When Matthew finished and drew away, Philip looked up at his father—and smiled. This was the first time either of the babies had done so, but I had seen this particular expression of happiness before.
It was slow and genuine and lit his entire face from within.
Philip might have my hair, but he had Matthew’s smile.
“Exactly right.” Matthew nodded at his son with approval and returned Philip to his bouncy chair. Rebecca looked at Matthew with a frown, slightly irritated at having been left out of the boys’ discussion. Matthew obligingly whispered in her ear as well, then blew a raspberry on her belly.
Rebecca’s eyes and mouth were round, as though her father’s words had impressed her—though I suspected that the raspberry might have something to do with it, too.
“What nonsense have you told them?” I asked, attacking a potato with a peeler. Matthew removed the two from my fingers.
“It wasn’t nonsense,” he said calmly. Three seconds later the potato was entirely without skin. He took another from the bowl.
“Tell me.”
“Come closer,” he said, beckoning to me with the peeler. I took a few steps in his direction. He beckoned again. “Closer.”
When I was standing right next to him, Matthew bent his face toward mine.
“The secret is that I may be the head of the Bishop-Clairmont family, but you are its heart,” he whispered. “And the three of us are in perfect agreement: The heart is more important.”
Matthew had already passed over the box containing letters between Philippe and Godfrey several times.
It was only out of desperation that he riffled through the pages.
“My most reverend sire and father,”Godfrey’s letter began.
“The most dangerous among The Sixteen have been executed in Paris, as you
ordered. As Matthew was unavailable for the job, Mayenne was happy to oblige, and
thanks you for your assistance with the matter of the Gonzaga family. Now that he feels
secure, the duke has decided to play both sides, negotiating with Henri of Navarre and