Death of an Adept

Glancing sidelong at Philippa, he went on.

"You must have confronted these same questions when you married my father. Is this more than a marriage-partner is entitled to know?"

Philippa smiled. "Not if the partner is worthy. But that burden of knowledge is not always easy to bear."

Conversation subsided momentarily, as a flurry of snow forced Adam to give his attention to minding the road. When the air cleared again, he was ready to pose some questions of his own.

"Just how much did my father know about your work as a Huntsman?" he asked, his eyes still on the road.

He heard her draw a deep breath before replying.

"I told him as much of the truth as I could," she said. "As much as I dared without risking his safety. Of course, there are aspects to the work we do that can never be adequately explained to someone who hasn't experienced the revelations of the Inner Planes."

She turned to smile at Adam.

"I was very much in love, though, just as you are," she went on. "And like you, I couldn't see the sense, let alone the virtue, in keeping my spouse wholly in the dark when my actions were bound to affect our relationship. The war was on then, and he was on active service. So was I, though in a capacity he never guessed at the time - though I did tell him more in later years, when we'd got to know one another better.

"But there was a very real possibility that one or the other of us might not survive the war. Your father needed - deserved - to know what to expect from me, just as I needed to know what to expect from him. I never had cause to regret my decision. I hope you never will either."

His mother's words left Adam feeling obscurely relieved, as if he had been delivered of a weight he had not previously realized he was carrying.

A companionable silence prevailed for the next several miles, born of mutual understanding and contentment. When Philippa spoke again, it was to redirect the conversation toward the less sensitive, if no less pressing, topic of her son's wedding plans, which were proceeding apace, with the date now less than four weeks away.

The invitations had gone out the previous Saturday, as soon as a date and location had been secured for the ceremony and the order could come back from the engraver. In the days immediately preceding, Julia had helped Philippa with the happy task of addressing the invitations, so that they could be posted the socially correct four weeks before the wedding date. Several times, the two of them had dragged Ximena off in search of the perfect gown - thus far, without any decision being reached.

"While we're talking about marriages, my dear, I need to run a few wedding details past you," Philippa said, with an arch glance in his direction. "I know that with your professional commitments, you and Ximena don't have time to sit down together very often right now, but I do need a few decisions, if I'm to take the planning burden off the two of you. I adore being able to do it for you, but I can't operate in a vacuum."

Smiling contentedly, Adam gave her a fond side glance.

"Philippa darling, your taste is impeccable and we're doing this partially for you, so anything you decide will be fine with us. I know it isn't easy doing this on such short notice, but we're extremely grateful." He paused a beat. "What do you need a decision on?"

"Well, the menu, for one thing," she replied, with an exasperated sigh. "If this is to be done right, the caterers really do need a few weeks' notice. And flowers for the reception."

"How about ringing the florist who did the flowers for Peregrine and Julia's reception?" Adam asked. "I liked those, and they know what the house needs."

Philippa gave another exasperated sigh. "Adam. This is a February wedding. You cannot get June flowers in February."

"Then you decide!" Adam said with a chuckle. "Honestly, I don't care. Or rather, it isn't that I don't care - it's that it doesn't matter to me, so long as Ximena is happy." He glanced at her again. "Does that make it any easier?"

Laughing, she gave a helpless shrug and went on to the next item on her list. By the time they pulled into the car park at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, where Adam worked, amicable agreement had been reached on several thorny points.

"Well, I'm glad we managed to resolve a few things, while you had me captive for this drive into town," Adam said, as he pulled into his assigned parking space. "And I'm even more appreciative that you agreed to come in with me today. This Gerard case has reached something of an impasse, and you're the only one I know who can deal with its - ah - 'unusual' aspects. I really could use a second opinion."