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“Him over there,” I said, clutching Gideon a little more tightly and pointing to Darth Vader. “Someone ought to tell him that his cloak is sh … isn’t exactly the latest fashion. And that I am not a demon, if he doesn’t mind, and I don’t want to be pierced by the swords of his descendants and wiped off the face of the earth. Ow!”
Gideon’s hand had closed hard on my forearm.
“What does this farce mean, Count?” inquired Lord Alastair, adjusting a showy brooch in his cravat.
The count took no notice of him. Under their heavy lids, his eyes were resting on me. “This is interesting,” he said softly. “She can obviously see straight into your black soul, my dear Alastair.”
“I’m afraid she’s drunk so much wine that she’s imagining things,” said Gideon, hissing into my ear, “Shut up, for goodness’ sake!”
My stomach contracted painfully with shock, because all at once I realized that the others couldn’t see or hear Darth Vader, and the reason why they couldn’t was that he was a ghost! If I hadn’t been so drunk, this obvious idea would have occurred to me sooner. How stupid could you get? Neither his clothes nor his hairstyle was right for the eighteenth century, and by the time he launched into his emotional ramblings, if not earlier, I ought to have realized who I had before me, or rather what.
Lord Alastair threw back his head and said, “We both know, Count, whose soul belongs to the Devil, and with God’s help, I will ensure that these … these creatures are never born at all!”
“Pierced by the swords of the Holy Florentine Alliance,” Darth Vader unctuously concluded.
The count laughed. “You still don’t understand the laws of time, Alastair. The mere fact that these two are here in front of you proves that your plan will not succeed. So maybe you shouldn’t rely on God’s help in this business too much. Or on my continued forbearance.” Suddenly there was an icy chill in his eyes and his voice, and I saw Lord Alastair flinch. For a split second all the arrogance was gone from his face, and his expression was one of naked fear.
“By changing the rules of the game, you have forfeited your life,” said the count in exactly the same voice as he had used to frighten me out of my wits at our last meeting. Suddenly I was convinced all over again that he was capable of cutting an enemy’s throat with his own hands.
“Your threat means nothing to me,” whispered Lord Alastair, but his face gave him the lie. Pale as death, he put a hand to his Adam’s apple.
“Oh, my dears, surely you’re not really leaving us already?” Lady Brompton came hurrying up, skirts rustling, looking happily around at us.
Count Saint-Germain’s features relaxed again, and there was nothing but goodwill in them. “Ah, here is our charming hostess. I must say you do your reputation credit, my lady. It’s a long time since I passed such an entertaining evening.”
Lord Alastair rubbed his throat. The color was slowly coming back into his cheeks.
“Satanas! Satanas!” cried Darth Vader angrily. “We will crush you, we will tear out your lying tongue with our own hands.…”
“My young friends here are as sorry as I am that we really have to leave now,” the count continued with a smile. “But you will soon be seeing them again at Lord and Lady Pympoole-Bothame’s ball.”
“A party is only as interesting as its guests,” said Lady Brompton. “So I would be very happy to welcome you here again soon. And your delightful young friends. It has been a great pleasure for us all.”
“The pleasure was entirely ours,” said Gideon, cautiously letting go of me as if he wasn’t sure whether I could stand on my own. Although the room was still swaying like a ship, and my thoughts seemed to be suffering a bad bout of seasickness too, when we said good-bye, I managed to pull myself together and do credit to my training by Giordano and, above all, James. I wasn’t even going to spare a glance for Lord Alastair and the ghost, who was still uttering savage threats. But I bobbed a curtsey to Lord and Lady Brompton, thanking them for the delightful evening, and I didn’t bat an eyelash when Lord Brompton left the trail of a moist kiss on my hand.
I sank in a very deep curtsey before the count, but I dared not look him in the face again. When he said quietly, “We shall see each other yesterday afternoon, then,” I just nodded and waited with downcast eyes until Gideon was beside me again, taking my arm. This time I let him lead me out of the salon.
* * *
“FOR GOD’S SAKE, Gwyneth, that wasn’t a party with your school friends! How could you?” Gideon was impatiently putting my shawl around my shoulders. He looked as if he’d like to shake me.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the umpteenth time.
“Lord Alastair is accompanied only by a page and his coachman,” whispered Rakoczy, materializing behind Gideon like some kind of jack-in-the-box. “The road and the church are safe. All the entrances to the church are guarded.”
“Come on, then,” said Gideon, taking my hand.
“I could carry the young lady,” Rakoczy suggested. “She seems rather unsteady on her feet.”
“A charming idea, but no thank you,” said Gideon. “She can manage that short distance on her own, can’t you?”
I nodded firmly.
It was raining harder now. After the Bromptons’ brightly lit salon, the way back to the church through the dark was even eerier than when we had set out. Once again the shadows seemed to be alive, once again I suspected that there could be a figure ready to pounce on us in every nook and cranny. “… will wipe that which is displeasing to God off the face of the earth,” the shadows seemed to whisper.
Gideon didn’t seem to like the look of the road either. He walked so fast that I had trouble in keeping up with him, and he didn’t say a single word. Unfortunately the rain did nothing to clear my head, nor did it stop the ground swaying. So I was extremely relieved when we arrived at the church and Gideon made me sit down on one of the pews in front of the altar. While he exchanged a few words with Rakoczy, I closed my eyes and cursed my stupidity. Granted, that punch had also had positive side effects, but all things considered, I’d have done better to stick to the no-alcohol pact that Lesley and I had made. It’s always easy to be wise after the event.
There was only a single candle burning on the altar, as there had been when we arrived, and apart from that small, flickering light, the church lay in darkness. When Rakoczy left—“All the doors and windows will be guarded by my men until you travel back”—I was overcome by fear. I looked up at Gideon, who had come back to my pew.
