Ruby Red (32 page)

“Fine,” I said. “Mum, at least. My father’s dead.”

Paul looked shocked. “Dead? But Nicholas is a man like an oak tree, so strong and healthy!”

“He had leukemia,” I said. “He died when I was seven.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so very sorry.” Paul was looking at me sadly and seriously. “It must have been terrible for you, growing up without a father.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Gideon repeated. “He’s just trying to keep us here until reinforcements arrive.”

“Do you still think I’m after your blood and hers?” There was a dangerous glint in the yellow eyes.

“I do indeed,” said Gideon.

“And you think Stillman and I, plus Frank and a pistol, couldn’t deal with you on our own?” asked Paul sarcastically.

“I certainly do,” said Gideon.

“Well, I’m sure my dear brother and the other Guardians have made you into a real fighting machine,” said Paul. “After all, you’ve had to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for them. Or should I say the chronograph? In my time, we just learnt a bit of fencing and how to play the violin, to keep the tradition going. But I bet you can do martial arts and all that stuff. You need to know those things if you’re going to travel around the past getting people to shed blood.”

“So far those people have given me their blood willingly.”

“But only because they don’t know where that will lead!”

“No. Because they don’t want to see the destruction of all that the Guardians have been studying, protecting, and working for through the centuries.”

“Blah, blah, blah! Yes, they kept going on at us in that emotional way as well. But
we
know the truth about Count Saint-Germain’s intentions.”

“And what is the truth?” It burst out of me.

There were footsteps on the stairs.

“Here come the reinforcements,” said Paul, without turning.

“The truth is that as soon as Mr. de Villiers here opens his mouth, he tells lies,” said Gideon.

The butler stood aside to make way for a graceful red-haired girl coming into the room. She was a little too old to be Lady Tilney’s daughter.

“I don’t believe it,” said the girl. She was looking at me as if she’d never seen anything more peculiar in her life.

“You can believe it all right, Princess,” said Paul. His voice sounded loving and a little concerned.

The girl was standing in the doorway as if rooted to the spot.

“You’re Lucy,” I said. There was no mistaking the family likeness.

“Gwyneth,” said Lucy. She really only breathed my name.

“Yes, it’s Gwyneth,” said Paul. “And the one clutching her as if she were his favorite teddy bear is my cousin, or my nephew, or whatever you like to call it. Unfortunately he’s very, very anxious to leave us.”

“Please don’t go!” said Lucy. “We have to talk to you both.”

“Another time,” said Gideon smoothly. “Maybe when there aren’t so many strangers around the place.”

“It’s important!” said Lucy.

Gideon laughed out loud. “I agree with you there!”

“You’re welcome to leave, young man,” said Paul. “Stillman will show you to the door. But Gwyneth will stay a little longer. I have a feeling it will be easier to talk to her. She hasn’t yet been through all the brainwashing that you … oh, hell!”

The curse was caused by the little black pistol that had suddenly appeared from nowhere in Gideon’s hand. He was aiming it calmly at Lucy.

“Gwyneth and I will now leave the house without any fuss,” he said. “Lucy will accompany us to the door.”

“You bastard,” said Paul under his breath. He had risen to his feet and was looking undecidedly from Stillman to Lucy and us and back again, all in turn.

“Sit down,” said Gideon. His voice was cold as ice, but I could feel his pulse racing. He still kept me firmly pressed to him with one arm around me. “And you, Stillman, sit down too, please. There are still plenty of cucumber sandwiches.”

Paul sat down and looked at the side door.

“One word from you to Frank and I fire,” said Gideon.

Lucy was staring at him, wide-eyed, but she didn’t seem frightened. Unlike Paul, who appeared to think that Gideon meant it seriously.

“Do as he says,” he told Stillman, and the butler left his post in the doorway and sat down at the table, giving us a nasty look.

“You’ve already met him, haven’t you?” Lucy was looking Gideon straight in the eye. “You’ve met Count Saint-Germain.”

“Three times,” said Gideon. “And he knows exactly what you two are planning. Turn around.” He put the barrel of the pistol against the back of Lucy’s head. “Now move forward.”

“Princess…”

“It’s all right, Paul.”

“For God’s sake, they’ve given him a Smith & Wesson automatic. I thought that was against the golden rules.”

“We’ll let her go once we’re out in the street,” said Gideon. “But if anyone up here moves before then, she’s dead. Come on, Gwyneth. They’ll have to try to get at your blood some other time.”

I hesitated. “Maybe they really do just want to talk,” I said. I felt enormously interested in what Lucy and Paul had to say. On the other hand, if they were really as harmless as they made out, why those bodyguards posted in the rooms? With guns? I remembered the men in the park.

“I’m certain they don’t just want to talk,” said Gideon.

“There’s no point,” said Paul. “They’ve brainwashed him.”

“It’s the count,” said Lucy. “He can be very convincing, as you know.”

“We’ll be seeing each other again,” said Gideon. We had now reached the top of the stairs.

“Is that meant to be a threat?” asked Paul. “We’ll be ‘seeing’ each other again? We most certainly will!”

Gideon kept the pistol aimed at the back of Lucy’s head until we had reached the front door.

I expected Frank to race out of the other room, but nothing stirred. There was no sign of my great-great-grandmother either.

“You can’t allow the Circle to be closed,” said Lucy urgently. “And you must never visit the count in the past again. Gwyneth in particular must never meet him!”

“Don’t listen to her!” Gideon had to let go of me to open the front door with one hand while still keeping the pistol aimed at Lucy with the other. He looked out into the street. I could hear voices on the floor above. Anxiously, I looked up the stairs. There were three men and a pistol up there, and up there was where we wanted them to stay.

“I’ve met him already,” I told Lucy. “Yesterday—”

“Oh, no!” Lucy’s face turned a shade paler. “Does he know your magic?”

“What magic?”

“The magic of the raven,” said Lucy.

“The magic of the raven is just a myth.” Gideon took my arm and led me down the steps and out into the street. There was no sign of our cab.

“That’s not true, and the count knows it.”

Gideon was still pointing the pistol at Lucy’s head, but now he looked back up to the first floor. Very likely Frank was standing there with his pistol. We were still under cover of the porch roof.

“Wait,” I told Gideon. I looked at Lucy. There were tears in her large blue eyes, and for some reason I found it hard not to believe her.

“What makes you so sure she’s not telling the truth, Gideon?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me for a moment, taken off balance. His eyes flickered. “I just am,” he whispered.

“That doesn’t sound so sure,” said Lucy. Her voice was gentle. “You two can trust us.”

Could we really? Then why had they done the impossible and trapped us here?

I saw the shadow only out of the corner of my eye.

“Watch out!” I shouted. Stillman was already coming down. Gideon spun round at the last moment as the hefty butler swung his fist back to strike.

“No, Stillman!” That was Paul’s voice from the stairs.

“Run!” shouted Gideon, and I made a split-second decision.

I ran as fast as I could in my little buttoned boots. I expected to hear a shot with every step I took.

“Talk to Grandfather!” Lucy called after me. “Ask him about the Green Rider!”

*   *   *

GIDEON DIDN
’
T CATCH UP
with me until I reached the next corner. “Thanks!” he gasped, putting the pistol away again. “If you hadn’t given me the heads-up, it would have been a close call. This way.”

I looked round. “Are we being followed?”

“I don’t think so,” said Gideon. “But we’d better hurry, just in case we are.”

“Where did that man Stillman come from? I had my eye on the stairs the whole time.”

“There’s probably another staircase in the house. I didn’t think of that either.”

“Where did the Guardian with the cab go? He was supposed to be waiting for us.”

“No idea,” said Gideon.

I was getting a stitch in my side. I wouldn’t be able to keep this speed up much longer. Gideon turned into a narrower side street and finally stopped outside a church porch.

HOLY TRINITY
said the notice board outside.

“What are we going to do here?” I gasped.

“Make our confession,” said Gideon. He looked around before opening the heavy door, then he pushed me into the dimly lit interior and closed the door again.

We were immediately surrounded by peace and quiet, the smell of incense, and that solemn feeling you get the moment you step inside a church.

It was a pretty church, with colored stained glass windows, pale sandstone walls, and little tea lights flickering, each of them a prayer or a good wish.

Gideon led me down one of the aisles to an old-fashioned confessional, drew the curtain aside, and pointed to the seat inside the little cubbyhole.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered.

“Yes, I can. I’ll sit on the other side, and we’ll just wait here until we travel back.”

Puzzled, I dropped onto the seat. Gideon drew the curtain in front of my nose. A moment later, the little barred peephole between me and the other seat was pushed aside. “Comfortable?”

I was getting my breath back, and my eyes were adjusting to the dim light.

Gideon was looking at me with an air of great solemnity. “Well, my daughter, let us thank the Lord for the shelter of his house.”

I stared at him. How could he be so casual, almost exuberant? For goodness’ sake, he’d held a pistol to my cousin’s head! It couldn’t just have left him cold.

“How can you make jokes now?”

Suddenly he looked embarrassed. He shrugged. “Can you think of a better way to pass the time?”

“Yes! We could try making sense of what just happened! Why do Lucy and Paul say someone’s brainwashed you?”

“How would I know?” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I saw that his hand was shaking slightly. Not so cool as he made out after all, then. “They’re trying to make you uncertain. Me too.”

“Lucy told me to ask my grandfather. She probably doesn’t know he’s dead.” I thought of the tears in Lucy’s eyes. “Poor thing. It must be terrible never to be able to see any of your family again because they’re in the future.”

Gideon did not reply. For a while we said nothing. I looked out through a gap in the curtain at the chancel of the church. A little gargoyle, about knee-high to a human, hopped out of the shadows and looked at us. I quickly looked away. If he noticed I could see him, he was sure to make a nuisance of himself. Gargoyle ghosts can really be pests. I knew that from experience.

“Are you sure you can trust Count Saint-Germain?” I asked as the gargoyle hopped closer.

Gideon took a deep breath. “He’s a genius. He’s discovered things that no one before him … yes, I trust him. Whatever Lucy and Paul think, they’re on the wrong track.” He sighed. “At least, I was still perfectly sure until a little while ago. It all seemed so logical.”

Obviously the little gargoyle thought we were boring. He climbed a pillar and disappeared into the organ loft.

“And now it isn’t anymore?”

“I only know that I had everything under control until you came along,” said Gideon.

“Oh, are you holding me responsible because for the first time in your life, not everyone’s dancing to your tune?” I raised my eyebrows, just as I’d seen him do. It felt good. I almost grinned, I was so proud of myself.

“No.” He shook his head and groaned. “Gwyneth, why is everything so much more complicated with you than with Charlotte?” He leaned forward, and there was something in his eyes that I’d never seen there before.

“Was that what you were discussing with her in the school yard today?” I asked, feeling slightly jealous.

Damn. Now I’d given him an opening. A beginner’s mistake!

“Jealous?” he promptly asked, with a broad grin.

“Not in the least!”

“Charlotte always did as I said. You don’t. Which is a real pain. But kind of amusing too. And sweet.” This time it wasn’t just his look that made me feel confused.

Embarrassed, I pushed a strand of hair back from my face. My stupid hairstyle had come entirely undone during our dash. There was probably a trail of hairpins from Eaton Place to the door of this church.