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“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.
“Why don’t we go back to the Temple?”
“It’s cozy here. If we go back to the Temple, there’ll be more endless discussions. And to be honest, I can do with a change from being ordered about by Uncle Falk.”
Aha! My move now. “Not a good feeling, is it?”
He shook his head. “No, not really.”
I heard sounds in the nave outside. I jumped, and peered through the curtain. But it was only an old lady lighting a candle. “Suppose we travel back in the next second? I don’t want to land on the lap of some child from a confirmation class. And I can’t imagine that the parish priest would be thrilled.”
“Don’t worry.” Gideon laughed quietly. “There’s never anyone in this confessional in our own time. Father Jacobs calls it the lift to the underworld. He’s a member of the Lodge, of course.”
“How much longer until we go back, then?”
Gideon looked at his watch. “We still have a bit of time.”
“Then we might as well use it sensibly.” I giggled. “Weren’t you going to make your confession, my son?” It just slipped out, and it took a moment for me to realize what I was doing.
I was sitting with Gideon in a church confessional about a hundred years in the past, flirting with him for all I was worth! Good heavens! Why hadn’t Lesley given me a folder full of instructions for that?
“Only if you’re going to tell me about your own sins too.”
“I’m sure you’d like that.” I quickly changed the subject. We were definitely on thin ice here. “You were right about the trap, by the way. But how could Paul and Lucy know that we’d be there today and not some other time?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Gideon, suddenly leaning so far toward me that our noses were only an inch or so apart. His eyes looked dark in the twilight of the church. “But maybe you do.”
I blinked at him. That unsettled me—in two ways: first because I could make nothing of that remark, and second because he was so close. “Me?”
“You could be the one who told Lucy and Paul about our meeting.”
“What?” I must be looking totally stupid. “What nonsense! When do you suppose I could have done that? I don’t even know where the chronograph is kept. And I’d never let anyone—” I stopped before I could say anything else silly.
“Gwyneth, you have no idea what you may do later on.”
