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“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.”
o;Suppose she just gets the butler to say she’s not at home?” I asked. “Maybe she doesn’t want to see you again so soon.”
“‘So soon’ is good—as far as she’s concerned the last time was eighteen years ago.”
“As long as that?” A tall, slim woman with her red hair piled up in a style not unlike mine was standing on the stairs. She looked like Lady Arista, but thirty years younger. I saw, to my surprise, that the upright way she walked was just like Lady Arista as well.
When she stopped in front of me, neither of us said anything, we were so absorbed in looking at each other. I could see a trace of Mum in my great-great-grandmother. I don’t know what or whom Lady Tilney saw in me, but she nodded and smiled, as if satisfied with the way I looked.
Gideon waited for a while, and then he said, “Lady Tilney, I still want to make the same request as I did eighteen years ago. We need a little of your blood.”
“And I still say what I said eighteen years ago. You are not having any of my blood.” She turned to him. “However, I can offer you tea, although it’s still a little early. But we can talk better over a cup of tea.”
“Then in any case, we would be delighted to take a cup of tea with you,” said Gideon, laying on the charm.
We followed my great-great-grandmother up the stairs to a room on the street side of the house. There was a small round table by the window laid for three with plates, cups, cutlery, bread, butter and jam, and in the middle a platter of scones and wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches.
“It looks almost as if you were expecting us,” I said, while Gideon took a good look around the room.
She smiled again. “It does, doesn’t it? One might think so. But in fact I am expecting some other guests. Do please sit down.”
“No, thank you, in the circumstances we’d rather not,” said Gideon, suddenly very much on the alert. “And we won’t trouble you for long. We’d just like to have answers to a few questions.”
“And what are they?”
“How do you know my name?” I interjected. “Who told you about me?”
“I had a visitor from the future.” Her smile widened. “It happens to me quite often.”
“Lady Tilney, I tried to explain, last time, that your visitor was telling you lies,” said Gideon. “You’re making a great mistake by trusting the wrong people.”
“That’s what I’m always telling her,” said a male voice. A young man had appeared in the doorway. He casually sauntered closer. “Margaret, I always say, you’re making a great mistake by trusting the wrong people. Oh, those look delicious. Are they for us?”
