“I am not doing this for you,” I said. “But since I am going to do it, why shouldn’t I make a way out for you, if I can? It costs me nothing. Nothing extra.”
Dominic shook his head. He got up without looking at me and went to the sideboard. Once there, he stared at the platters of food as though he’d forgotten what he came for.
I continued to eat with determination. When Valentin came in a few moments later, I had already finished my second pastry. Dominic returned and picked at his food in grim silence. Valentin sat across from us and watched us for a moment before speaking. “You wanted to know about the man at the gate,” he said to me.
“Oh. Yes.” I glanced at Dominic. I had forgotten to mention to him that my father had been here, and now it was too late. I silently willed him to stay calm and quiet.
“He wished to speak to the master of the house,” said Valentin. His eyes were narrowed on me, watching for my reaction. “He said his name was Vellacott.”
Beside me, Dominic stiffened.
“Did he say why he wished to speak to the master of the house?” I asked calmly.
“Indeed, yes,” said Valentin. “He said he was looking for a young girl he believed to be in danger. He said her name was Theosebeia Hope.”
“And did he say what business of his it might be if Theosebeia Hope is in danger?” I asked.
Valentin tilted his head, then shook it. “He did not.”
“And what did the guard tell him?”
“Nothing at all,” said Valentin. “My men know not to speak out of turn. Karl told Vellacott all he was authorized to tell, which was that he must leave or be shot.”
“Did he mention anyone else? Perhaps … the police?”
“The police? No.”
I thought as quickly as I could, though that was much slower than I liked. My mind struggled to reach the point, like I was drunk, though I’d drunk nothing but coffee. I banished my panic and forced my thoughts into focus. My father had asked only after me. He hadn’t mentioned Dominic, or Ludovico Bentivoglio. What did that mean? What did it mean that he had said that I was in danger, and not that we were fugitives from the law?
It could mean anything, I decided. It could be that he thought he would gain more help if he seemed to be looking for a vulnerable girl rather than a killer and his accomplice. Or, he might be looking for me and not Dominic. In that case, it was most likely that he wanted me for the same reason the Germans did. He knew what I knew, and what I could do. He had failed to decode my mother’s notes, and came searching for my help. I already knew he wanted the Philosopher’s Stone as much as Ludwig did. It should be no surprise that he wanted to catch me out and bring me back.
I found the idea of being forced to make the Stone for my father no more appealing than making it for Ludwig. Quite a bit less, in fact. I could not allow him to find me.
“You know this Vellacott?” Valentin asked.
I glanced at Dominic. He had set down his fork, placed his elbows on the table, and dropped his head into his hands.
“Yes,” I said simply. “He is an alchemist. He must have some suspicion that we are here, but I hope you will not allow it to be confirmed.”
“What does he want with you?”
“The same thing your Burggraf does, I should think,” I said. “In any case, it won’t be anything good.”
“You don’t know that,” said Dominic.
I turned to him, my eyes widened in what would have been an effective silencing manner if Dominic had not still had his head buried in his hands.
“I know enough,” I said.
Dominic straightened slowly, as though making a decision. He’d looked well enough earlier, but from the expression of anguish on his face I suddenly wondered if he ought to still be chained to the radiator.
“He’s not a bad man, Thea,” he said. “You saw him at his worst.”
“What better time is there to know a man than at his worst?” I exclaimed, heat rising in my cheeks. “I am glad he showed his true character at once. I shudder to think of all the time and effort I might have wasted in trying to know and help him!”
“This has gone on long enough,” said Dominic. “You should never have come with me to London. He’s here for you. You should go with him.”
While I struggled to find words sufficient to contain my contempt for this idea, Valentin broke in. “Why should she go with him?” he asked Dominic. “Who is he to her?”
“Dominic!” I warned. But his voice rose over mine.
“Mr. Vellacott is her father.”
I choked on my fury. Words were momentarily lost in rage. My hands balled into fists, and I had to press them to the table to keep from striking Dominic.
“Ah,” said Valentin with an infuriatingly calm nod.
“Let her go,” said Dominic. “Call him back and send her with him. You have no right to keep her here when her father has asked for her.”
“Ah, but he did not claim her as his daughter,” said Valentin. “Miss Hope, he called her. Not Miss Vellacott. He has not acknowledged her, I think. And therefore he has no more claim upon her than Graf Ludwig.”
“Claim?” The word escaped, a low hiss through my violently clenched jaw. “What claim do any of you have on me?”
“Thea, please be calm,” said Valentin.
I thought I had been calm, though it had taken more strength than they could have imagined. Now I jumped to my feet, throwing back my chair as I did.
“Let me be quite clear. I will not go anywhere with Mr. Vellacott. To that
