A Discovery of Witches - Deborah Harkness [244]
“How is Marcus?”
“He and Miriam are on their way to New York. They have something to discuss with you.” Matthew’s face looked like a thundercloud.
“Me? What is it?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Marcus didn’t want you to be on your own with only witches to keep you company.” I smiled at him, and some of the tension left his face.
“They’ll be here by nightfall and will check in to the inn we passed on our way through town. I’ll go by and see them tonight. Whatever they need to tell you can wait until tomorrow.” Matthew’s worried eyes darted to Sarah and Em.
I turned to the sink again. “Call him back, Matthew. They should come straight here.”
“They won’t want to disturb anyone,” he said smoothly. Matthew didn’t want to upset Sarah and the rest of the Bishops by bringing two more vampires into the house. But my mother would never have let Marcus travel so far only to stay in a hotel.
Marcus was Matthew’s son. He was my son.
My fingers prickled, and the cup I was washing slipped from my grasp. It bobbed in the water for a few moments, then sank.
“No son of mine is checking in to a hotel. He belongs in the Bishop house, with his family, and Miriam shouldn’t be alone. They’re both staying here, and that’s final,” I said firmly.
“Son?” said Sarah faintly.
“Marcus is Matthew’s son, which makes him my son, too. That makes him a Bishop, and this house belongs to him as much as it does to you, or me, or Em.” I turned to face them, grabbing the sleeves of my shirt tightly with my wet hands, which were shaking.
My grandmother drifted down the hallway to see what the fuss was about.
“Did you hear me, Grandma?” I called.
I believe we all heard you, Diana, she said in her rustly voice.
“Good. No acting up. And that goes for every Bishop in this house—living and dead.”
The house opened its front and back doors in a premature gesture of welcome, sending a gust of chilly air through the downstairs rooms.
“Where will they sleep?” Sarah grumbled.
“They don’t sleep, Sarah. They’re vampires.” The prickling in my fingers increased.
“Diana,” Matthew said, “please step away from the sink. The electricity, mon coeur.”
I gripped my sleeves tighter. The edges of my fingers were bright blue.
“We get the message,” Sarah said hastily, eyeing my hands. “We’ve already got one vampire in the house.”
“I’ll get their rooms ready,” Emily said, with a smile that looked genuine. “I’m glad we’ll have a chance to meet your son, Matthew.”
Matthew, who had been leaning against an ancient wooden cupboard, pulled himself upright and walked slowly toward me. “All right,” he said, drawing me from the sink and tucking my head under his chin. “You’ve made your point. I’ll call Marcus and let him know they’re welcome here.”
“Don’t tell Marcus I called him my son. He may not want a stepmother.”
“You two will have to sort that out,” Matthew said, trying to suppress his amusement.
“What’s so funny?” I tipped my face up to look at him.
“With all that’s happened this morning, the one thing you’re worried about is whether Marcus wants a stepmother. You confound me.” Matthew shook his head. “Are all witches this surprising, Sarah, or is it just Bishops?”
Sarah considered her answer. “Just Bishops.”
I peeked around Matthew’s shoulder to give her a grateful smile.
My aunts were surrounded by a mob of ghosts, all of whom were solemnly nodding in agreement.
Chapter 35
After the dishes were done, Matthew and I gathered up my mother’s letter, the mysterious note, and the page from Ashmole 782 and carried them into the dining room. We spread the papers out on the room’s vast, well-worn table. These days it was seldom used, since it made no sense for two people to sit at the end of a piece of furniture designed to easily seat twelve. My aunts joined us, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands.
Sarah and Matthew crouched over the page from the alchemical manuscript.
“Why is it so heavy?” Sarah picked the page up and weighed it carefully.
“I don’t feel any special weightiness,” Matthew confessed,