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“I shall be better in a moment. No need for any fuss.” Rakoczy had raised his head and was looking at us with bloodshot eyes. “My fault! It should be taken only a few drops at a time, he says.”
“Who says?” asked Gideon, holding Lavinia in his arms like a store display mannequin.
With some difficulty, Rakoczy got himself into a sitting position, let his head drop back, and looked up at the ceiling with a peal of laughter. “Do you see the stars all dancing?”
Gideon sighed. “I’ll have to find the count,” he said. “Gwen, if you could just lend me a hand…?”
I stared at him blankly. “Lend you a hand with her? You must be joking!” With a couple of steps, I was in the doorway and then out in the corridor, so that he wouldn’t see the silly tears flowing down my face in torrents. I didn’t know either why I was crying or where I was going as I ran away. It must have been posttraumatic reaction, the kind you’re always reading about. People do the weirdest things when they’re in shock, like that baker up in Yorkshire who crushed his arm in the dough press. He finished baking seven more trays of cinnamon croissants before he called the emergency services. Those cinnamon croissants were the nastiest sight the paramedics had ever seen.
I hesitated when I reached the stairs. I didn’t want to go down, in case Lord Alastair was already waiting there to commit his perfect murder, so I ran on up. I hadn’t gone far before I heard Gideon behind me, calling, “Gwenny! Please stop! Please!”
For a moment, it occurred to me that he might simply have dropped Lavinia on the floor so that he could run after me, but it was no good: I was still feeling furious, or sad, or scared, or all of them together. I stumbled on up the stairs, blinded by tears, and into the next corridor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Now Gideon was beside me, trying to take my hand.
“Anywhere! Away from you, that’s all,” I sobbed, running into the nearest room. Gideon followed me. Of course. I nearly passed my sleeve over my face to wipe away the tears, but I remembered Madame Rossini’s makeup at the last minute. I probably looked battered enough already. I glanced around the room, so as not to have to look at Gideon. Light from candles in brackets on the walls fell on the pretty furnishings, all in shades of gold. There was a sofa, a delicate little desk, a few chairs, a painting of a dead pheasant and some pears, a collection of exotic-looking sabers above the mantelpiece, and magnificent golden yellow curtains at the windows. For some reason, I had a sudden feeling that I’d been here before.
Gideon was standing in front of me, waiting.
“Leave me alone,” I said, rather feebly.
“I can’t leave you alone. Whenever I leave you alone, you do something rash without thinking first.”
“Go away!” I felt like throwing myself on the sofa, staying there for a while, and drumming on the cushions with my fists. Was that too much to ask?
“No, I won’t,” said Gideon. “Listen, I’m sorry that happened. I ought not to have allowed it.”
My God, wasn’t that downright typical? A classic case of overresponsibility syndrome. It was nothing to do with Gideon that I’d happened to meet Rakoczy, was it? Or that right now Rakoczy didn’t have all his marbles, as Xemerius would say. On the other hand, a few guilt feelings wouldn’t hurt him.
So I said, “But you did!” And I added, “Because you had eyes only for her!”
“You’re jealous!” Gideon had the nerve to burst out laughing. He sounded kind of relieved.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” My tears had stopped, and I surreptitiously wiped my nose.
“The count will wonder where we are,” said Gideon, after a slight pause.
“Then he can just send his Transylvanian friend looking for us, that’s what your count can do.” I finally managed to look him in the eye again. “He’s not even really a count. His title’s as much of a fake as the rosy cheeks of that … what was her name again?”
Gideon laughed quietly. “I’ve forgotten her name already.”
“Liar!” I said, but stupidly I couldn’t help grinning a bit myself.
Next moment Gideon was serious again. “The count’s not responsible for Rakoczy’s behavior. He’ll certainly be reprimanded for that. You don’t have to like the count, you only have to respect him.”
I snorted angrily. “I don’t have to do anything,” I said, abruptly turning toward the window. And there I saw … myself! In my school uniform, peering out from behind the curtain with a rather foolish expression on my face. Good heavens! That was why the room had looked familiar to me! It was Mrs. Counter’s classroom, and the Gwyneth behind the curtain had just traveled to the past for the third time. I made a sign with my hand for her to hide again.
“What was that?” asked Gideon.
“Nothing!” I said, sounding as stupid as possible.
“At the window.” He put his hand out into thin air—a reflex action as he felt for the sword he wasn’t wearing.
“Nothing, I said.” What I did next has to be put down to posttraumatic shock again—like that baker and the blood in his cinnamon croissants. In the normal way, I’d never have done such a thing. But I also thought I’d seen something green scurry past the doorway, and … and well, fundamentally I did it only because I already knew I was going to do it. You might say there was nothing else that I could do.
“There could be someone standing behind the curtain listening to—” Gideon was still saying as I flung my arms around his neck and planted my lips on his. And while I was about it, I also pressed the rest of me close to him. Lady Lavinia herself couldn’t have done it better.
For a few seconds, I was afraid Gideon would push me away, but then he gave a quiet groan, put his arms around my waist, and drew me even closer. He returned the kiss so warmly that I forgot everything else and closed my eyes. It was the same as when we’d been dancing just now; suddenly it didn’t matter what was happening around us or what was going to happen next. It didn’t even matter that he was really an utter bastard—all I knew was that I loved him, and I always would, and I wanted him to go on kissing me forever.
