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Marcus counted to five before his obble their food or behave as though they couldn’t remember their last meal

So poked Marcus in the ribs

It was a wooden whirligig, and Miss Anna Porter was at the end of it She was Madaet that she was one year and one month older than he was A roll of her brown eyes and a toss of her red head suggested they leave the adults to their conversation and find amusement elsewhere

But Marcus wanted to stay where he was and hear what had happened at the ce nobody would talk about in front of hiood ghost story

“They asked for my help, and I had no one to send but Zeb” Madahts when there is a pounding at the door that Ia husband”

Marcus’s mother made a sympathetic noise and sipped at her tea

Madam Porter’s husband had died a hero, in battle Zeb had told stories about Master Porter, though, that made Marcus wonder whether he had been a nice man

“Really, Catherine, you should rent a house in town Living out by the burial ground cannot be salubrious,” Mada the subject She picked up her needlework and began to stitch a bright pattern on the cloth

“My grandmother said your pa is a drunkard,” Anna whispered, her freckled eyelids narrowed into slits over pale eyes She aving the whirligig to and fro, which , with its curled black hair and dusky skin, looked like Zeb Pruitt

“Is not” Marcus grabbed at the whirligig

“Is too,” Anna taunted, still in a whisper

“Take that back!” Marcus wrestled the whirligig from Anna’s hands

Madam Porter and his mother turned, shocked by his outburst

“Ow!” Anna grabbed at one of her long red curls, lip tre “He pulled my hair”

“I did not,” Marcus protested “I never touched you”

“And he tookher cheek Marcus snorted

“Marcus MacNeil” His mother’s voice was low but intense “Gentlemen do not steal from defenseless women You know better than that”

Anna had strong arms, ran faster than a scalded cat, and had many hearty male cousins She was far from defenseless

“Nor do they tor ladies with pinches and pulls,” hisMarcus’s hope of reprieve “Since you are not fit for polite society, you will beg Anna’s forgiveness, and Madaet home, your father will hear of this”

And he would be angry Marcus’s lip trembled

“I’htly to Madaive me, Anna”

“A very pretty apology,” Mada nod

Marcus fled to the barn without waiting for Anna’s response, sing down his fears about what awaited him at home and his tears at his mother’s rebuke

“You all right, Master Marcus?” Zeb Pruitt was propped up on his pitchfork in one of the stalls Standing beside hi of limb and broad of shoulder, was Joshua Boston

“So, thin stream of brown liquid Unlike Zeb, as in stained work clothes, Joshua earing a wool coat with polished buttons

Marcus hiccupped and shook his head

“H tells me Miss Anna has been up to mischief,” Zeb said

“She said oes to church every Sunday God answers your prayers Pa says so And now I have to tell Pa what happened with Anna and he’s going to be angry with ain”

Zeb and Joshua exchanged long looks

“Just because a ht to dry off by the fire doesn’t make him a drunkard” Zeb stuck his pitchfork into a nearby pile of hay and crouched down so he was eye level with Marcus “What’s this about Mr MacNeil being angry?”

“He was out all night, and when he ca on the chair He told me not to do it, hundreds of ti about it “Pa told ”

Joshua said so under his breath that Marcus didn’t catch Zeb nodded

“You be sure you stay away from your pa if he’s in a dark mood,” Zeb told him “Hide in the henhouse, or under theby the river until you think it’s safe”

“Hoill I knohen that is?” Marcus asked, worried he ht miss dinner

“You’ll learn,” Zeb said

—

THAT NIGHT, MARCUS TOOK HIS pillow and arranged it at the top of the stairs The pain in his backside and legs had gone froiven hi, and had used a leather strap from the barn this tiet the lesson

Hisin the kitchen Marcus couldn’t ht was about, but he suspected it had to do with hih food at dinner, and his ma had let the bread they were supposed to have with it burn

“Mind your place, Catherine,” his pa said, stor his hat off the newel post The woolen felt was dry now, but the briular shape

Marcus opened his y in an atte But he wasn’t supposed to interrupt his father andthat his father would turn around and see hi out of bed

“It’s my place to keep this fah to eat How are we going toahat’s left of our money?”

His father whirled around, one hand lifted in the air

Catherine cowered against the wall, shielding her face

“Don’t you , too,” Obadiah said softly as he walked out the door

He never did look back

7

Two

14 MAY

Phoebe’s second day as a vampire did not include the dreamy, rapturous experiences she’d had on the first While her body was learning how to be still, her es fro the history of art, lyrics fros—all these andfil role and also comprised the entire audience Since she had become a vampire, her memories eirdly addled and unusually sharp

Her first bicycle was navy blue hite stripes on the fenders

Where was it now? Phoebe wondered She thought she had last ridden it at the house in Hampstead

There was a pub in Ha lunch when you took a Sunday walk

Not that she would ever have a Sunday lunch again, Phoebe realized What would she do on Sundays in the years to come? Hoould she entertain friends? Neither she nor Marcus went to church They would have to create a different Sunday routine after they gotmeal

The church in Devon where her best friend got lass in it Phoebe had stared at its colors and intricate patterns all through the service,at its beauty

How old was that ? Phoebe was not a glass expert but she suspected it was Victorian—not very old at all

The celadon glass pitcher downstairs was far more ancient

Could it be Roman, maybe third century? Its value would be enormous if that were so Freyja shouldn’t keep it where it could be smashed

Phoebe had spent a su about tesserae It had been so hot and dry that the air singed the tiny hairs in her nose and every inhalation scoured her lungs s counted to five before his obble their food or behave as though they couldn’t remember their last meal