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“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.
