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A finger fell on my lips. “I know what I said.” Gideon had leaned toward me from his side of the cubbyhole. “And I’m sorry.”

What? I sat there thunderstruck, unable to move or even breathe. His fingers gently touched my lips, stroked my chin, and felt their way up my cheek to my temple.

“You’re not ordinary, Gwyneth,” he whispered as he began stroking my hair. “You’re totally, absolutely extraordinary. You don’t need the magic of any raven to be special to me.” He leaned as close as he could get, with his head and arms through the opening of the confessional window, and when his lips touched my mouth, I shut my eyes.

Okay. So now I was going to faint.

Sunny day, 73 degrees in the shade.

Lady Tilney arrives punctually at nine to elapse.

Traffic in the city held up by a protest march: a group of deranged females demanding votes for women. We’ll be founding colonies on the moon before they get what they want.

Otherwise, no unusual incidents.

FROM THE ANNALS OF THE GUARDIANS

24 JUNE 1912

REPORT: FRANK MINE, INNER CIRCLE

EPILOGUE

Hyde Park, London

24 June 1912

“THESE SUNSHADES are really useful,” she said, twirling hers in a circle. “I can’t understand why they went out of fashion.”

“Maybe because it rains all the time here?” He smiled sideways at her. “But I agree, they’re very attractive. And white lace summer dresses suit you wonderfully. I’m even getting used to the long skirts. It’s always such a nice moment when you take them off.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to not wearing jeans anymore,” she said sadly. “I miss them badly every day.”

He knew very well it wasn’t just the jeans she missed so badly, but he was careful not to say so. They walked on for a while in silence.

The park seemed so peaceful in the summer sun; the city spread out behind them looked as if it were built to last forever. But he remembered that in two years’ time, the First World War would begin, and German zeppelins would be dropping bombs on London. Maybe they’d have to retreat to the country for a while.

“She looks just like you,” she said suddenly.

He knew at once who she was talking about. “No, she looks like you, Princess! It’s only her hair she gets from me.”

“And that way of tilting her head to one side when she’s thinking something over.”

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

She nodded. “Isn’t this strange? Two months ago we held her in our arms as a newborn baby, and now she’s sixteen, and half a head taller than me. And only two years younger!”

“Yes, crazy!”

“I’m so relieved that she’s all right. But Nicholas … why did he have to die so early?”

“Leukemia. I’d never have expected that. Poor girl, to lose her father so young.” He cleared his throat. “I hope she’ll keep away from that boy, my … er, nephew, or whatever he is. These family trees are impossible.”

“Oh, it’s not all that difficult—your great-grandfather and his great-great-grandfather were twin brothers. So your great-great-grandfather is also his great-great-great-grandfather.” She laughed, noticing his blank expression. “I’ll draw you a family tree sometime.”

“I tell you, no one can work it out. Anyway, I don’t like the young man. Did you notice the way he was ordering her about? Luckily she wasn’t taking it lying down.”

“She’s in love with him.”

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