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Emerald Green





Nicely put. I had a feeling that it was about time I contributed something soothing to this conversation. But what?

Mother, I know who you are—come to my arms?

Lucy, I forgive you for abandoning me. Nothing can part us now? I must have made some funny kind of sound, and Gideon correctly interpreted it as the beginning of a fit of hysterics. He put his arm around my shoulders and supported me just at the right time, because my legs suddenly seemed about to give way.

“Maybe we should go into the drawing room?” suggested Lucy.

Good idea. If I remembered rightly, there were chairs to sit on in there.

The tea table wasn’t laid in the small, round room this time, but otherwise it was just like when we were last here, except that the flower arrangement had been replaced by delphiniums and stocks. A group of armchairs and delicate little straight-backed chairs stood in the bay window looking out on the street.

“Please sit down,” said Lady Tilney.

I dropped into one of the upholstered chintz armchairs, but the others stayed standing.

Lucy smiled at me. She came a step closer and looked as if she might stroke my hair. I nervously jumped up again. “I’m sorry we’re so wet. We never thought of bringing an umbrella,” I babbled.

Lucy’s smile widened. “What does Lady Arista always say?”

I couldn’t keep back a grin. “Child, I won’t have you soaking my good cushions!” we said in chorus. Suddenly Lucy’s expression changed. Now she looked like bursting into tears.

“I’ll ring for some tea,” said Lady Tilney in matter-of-fact tones, picking up a little bell. “Peppermint tea with plenty of sugar and hot lemon.”

“No, please!” Gideon despairingly shook his head. “We can’t stop for that. I don’t know for sure if I’ve picked the right time, but I very much hope that, from your point of view, my meeting with Paul in 1782 has already taken place.”

Lucy, who had recovered her composure, slowly nodded, and Gideon breathed a sigh of relief. “Then you’ll know that you gave me the count’s secret papers. It took us a little time to work out everything they told us, but now we know that the philosopher’s stone is not a cure for all diseases, it’s just supposed to make the count immortal forever.”

“And his immortality comes to an end the moment Gwyneth is born, right?” whispered Lucy. “Which is why he’ll try to kill her as soon as the Circle is closed?”

Gideon nodded, but I looked at him in some annoyance. We hadn’t had time to discuss those details properly yet. However, this didn’t seem the right time for it, because he was already going on. “Everything you two did was to protect Gwyneth.”

“You see, Luce? I told you so.” Paul had appeared in the doorway. He was wearing his arm in a sling, and as he came closer, his amber eyes were moving back and forth between Gideon, Lucy, and me.

I held my breath. He looked only a few years older than me, and in normal life, I’d have thought he looked brilliant with that raven-black hair, the unusual de Villiers eyes, and the little dimple in his chin. I supposed he couldn’t help the side-whiskers. It was probably the fashion for men at this period. But side-whiskers or no side-whiskers, he really didn’t look old enough to be my father, or anyone’s father, in fact.

“Sometimes trusting people in advance pays off,” he said, looking Gideon up and down. “Even people like this young ruffian.”

“And sometimes you just get outrageous good luck,” Lucy snapped at him. She turned to Gideon. “I’m very grateful to you for saving Paul’s life, Gideon,” she said with dignity. “If you hadn’t happened to be passing, he’d be dead now.”

“You always exaggerate, Lucy.” Paul made a face. “I’d have thought of a way to get out of the hole I was in.”

“Sure,” said Gideon, with a grin.

Paul frowned, but then he grinned as well. “Okay, maybe not. Alastair is a crafty so-and-so, and a damn good swordsman. And then there were three of them! If I ever meet him again—”

“That’s not very likely,” I murmured, and when Paul looked at me with a question in his eyes, I added, “Gideon pinned him to the wallpaper with a saber a bit later in 1782. Even if Rakoczy found him in time, I don’t think he’ll have survived that evening for long.”

Lady Tilney sank into a chair. “Pinned him to the wallpaper with a saber!” she repeated. “How barbaric!”

“No more than that psychopath deserved.” Paul put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

“Definitely,” Gideon quietly agreed.

“Oh, I’m so relieved,” said Lucy, her eyes on my face. “Now that you know the count is planning to kill Gwyneth when the Circle closes, it will never happen!” Paul was going to add something, but she went straight on. “With those papers, surely Grandpa can finally convince the Guardians that we were right and the count never had the welfare of mankind at heart, only his own. And those idiotic Guardians, particularly the repulsive Marley, won’t be able to dismiss the evidence out of hand anymore. Huh! Dragging the memory of Count Saint-Germain through the dirt, were we? He wasn’t even a real count, just an out-and-out villain, and oh—like I said, I’m so relieved, so very, very relieved!” She took a deep breath, giving the impression that she could go on and on like this for hours, but Paul put his arm around her.

“You see, Princess? It will all turn out all right,” he whispered gently, and although he wasn’t talking to me, for some strange reason, it brought me literally to the brink of tears. However hard I tried, I couldn’t hold them back.

“But it won’t,” I burst out, and never mind about drenching the cushions, I dropped into the nearest chair. “It won’t all turn out all right. Grandpa’s been dead for six years, and he can’t help us now.”

Lucy crouched down in front of me. “Don’t cry,” she said helplessly. But she was crying herself. “Darling, you mustn’t cry like that, it’s not good for the…” she sobbed. “His heart, I suppose? I was always telling him to lay off those buttercream cakes.…”

Paul bent over us, and it looked as if he would have liked to burst into tears himself.

Great. If Gideon joined in as well, we could compete with the summer showers outside, no problem.

It was Lady Tilney who put a stop to all that. Taking two handkerchiefs out of her skirt pocket, she handed one each to Lucy and me, and said in a brisk tone of voice startlingly like Lady Arista’s, “Plenty of time for all this later, children. Pull yourselves together. We must concentrate. Who knows how much time we have left?”

Gideon patted my shoulder. “She’s right,” he whispered.

I sniffed once and then laughed when I heard the trumpeting sound as Lucy blew her nose into her handkerchief. Hopefully that was one habit I hadn’t inherited from her.

Paul went over to the window and looked down at the street. When he turned back, his expression was perfectly neutral again. “Right. Back to business.” He scratched his ear. “So Lucas can’t help us now. But even without him, with those papers, it must be possible to convince the Guardians at last that the count’s intentions are selfish.” He looked questioningly at Gideon. “And then the Circle will never be closed.”

“It would take too long to get the authenticity of the papers checked,” replied Gideon. “At the moment, Falk is Grand Master of the Lodge, and he might even just possibly believe us. But I’m not a hundred percent sure. So far I haven’t ventured to show the papers to anyone in the Lodge.”

I nodded. Back on that sofa in the year 1953, he had told me about his suspicion that there was a traitor among the Guardians. “You see,” I said, joining in, “there’s always a possibility that among the Guardians of our own time, there could be one or more who know about the real effect of the philosopher’s stone and are backing the count’s plans to make himself immortal.” I tried to concentrate on facts, and to my surprise, I succeeded remarkably well, in spite of all the emotional stuff sloshing around in my mind. Or maybe because of it.

“Suppose Grandpa discovered who the traitor was? That would also explain why he was murdered.”

“He was murdered?” repeated Lucy, stunned.

“We can’t prove it,” said Gideon. “But it looks very much like it.” I’d told him about Aunt Maddy’s vision and the burglary of the house on the day of the funeral.

“That would mean there are people working to close the Circle from both sides,” said Lady Tilney thoughtfully. “Count Saint-Germain pulling the strings in the past, and one or more of his allies supporting his plans in the future.”

Paul brought his fist down on the back of the chair in front of him. “Oh, damn it to hell,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Lucy raised her head. “But you can tell the Guardians you didn’t find us! If our blood isn’t read into the chronograph, the Circle won’t be closed.”

“It’s not that simple,” said Gideon. “The Guardians have—”

“Yes, I know they’ve set private detectives on us,” Lady Tilney interrupted him. “The de Villiers twins and that stuffed shirt Pinkerton-Smythe. Luckily, they think themselves very clever, and they consider me—because I’m a woman—very stupid. It never occurs to them that private detectives might happily withhold information in return for an addition to their modest income.” She allowed herself a triumphant smile. “And our present arrangement is only temporary. Lucy and Paul will soon have covered up any traces behind them. Under another name, they’re soon going to begin a new life and—”

“Move into an apartment in Blandford Street,” Gideon finished, and the triumphant smile disappeared from Lady Tilney’s face. “We know all that—and Mr. Pinkerton-Smythe was told to keep Lucy and Paul at the Temple until I take some blood from them there. More precisely, a letter with the necessary information will reach him tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” said Paul, who was looking just as confused as I felt. “But then it’s not too late!”

“Yes, it is,” said Gideon. “Because from my point of view, it’s already happened. I delivered the letter to the Guardians who were on duty during the Cerberus Watch a couple of days ago. At the time, I had no idea what was going on.”

“Then we’ll just hide,” said Lucy.

“Tomorrow morning?” Lady Tilney looked grimly determined. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So will I,” said Gideon, and he glanced at the grandfather clock. “But I don’t know if it will be enough. Because even if we can keep the Guardians from getting their hands on Lucy and Paul, I’m convinced that the count will find ways and means to achieve his ends.”

“At least he won’t get any of my blood,” said Lady Tilney.

Gideon sighed. “You gave it to us long ago, Lady Tilney. I visited you in 1916, when you had to elapse in the cellar with the de Villiers twins during the First World War. And you were perfectly happy to let me have a few drops. I was surprised myself at the time. I hope very much we’ll have a chance to exchange our impressions of that occasion someday.”
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