Sapphire Blue (29 page)

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.

“It’s just as scary in here as outside. Why doesn’t he stay with us?”

“Out of politeness. He doesn’t want to listen to me shouting at you. But don’t worry, we’re on our own. Rakoczy’s men have searched every last corner.”

“How much longer before we travel back?”

“Not long now, Gwyneth. I suppose you realize that you did almost precisely the opposite of what you ought to have done? As usual, come to think of it.”

“You shouldn’t have left me alone—I bet that was also almost precisely the opposite of what
you
ought to have done!”

“Don’t go blaming me! First you get drunk, then you sing songs from modern musicals, and finally you behave like a lunatic in front of Lord Alastair, of all people! What was all that stuff about swords and demons?”

“I didn’t begin it. It was that black, uncanny gho—” But here I bit my lip. I couldn’t simply tell him about the ghosts I saw. He thought I was peculiar enough as it was.

Gideon totally misunderstood my sudden silence. “Oh, no! Please don’t throw up! Or if you must, do it somewhere well away from me.” He looked at me with slight revulsion. “Good heavens, Gwyneth, I can see that there’s something tempting in the idea of getting drunk at a party, but not
that
party!”

“I don’t feel like throwing up.” Not yet, at least. “And I never drink at parties—whatever Charlotte’s told you.”

“She hasn’t told me anything,” said Gideon.

I had to laugh. “No, sure.
And
she never claimed that Lesley and I have been out with all the boys in our class and almost all the boys in the class above, did she?”

“Why would she say a thing like that?”

Let’s think … maybe because she’s a sly, mean, red-haired witch?
I tried to scratch my head, but my fingers couldn’t get through the pile of ringlets. So I pulled out a hairpin and scratched with that instead. “Oh, I’m sorry, really! You can say what you like about Charlotte, but I’m sure she would never even have
sniffed
that punch.”

“You’re right,” said Gideon, and suddenly he smiled. “Although then those people would have never have heard Andrew Lloyd Webber two hundred years ahead of time, and that would have been a real pity.”

“Right … although tomorrow I’ll probably want to sink into the ground with shame.” I buried my face in my hands. “In fact, come to think of it, that’s how I feel right now.”

“Good,” said Gideon. “It means the effect of the alcohol is wearing off. One question, by the way: what did you want a hairbrush for?”

“I wanted it as a substitute for a mike,” I murmured through my fingers. “Oh, my God! I’m so horrible.”

“But you have a pretty voice,” said Gideon. “Even I liked it, and I told you I hate musicals.”

“Then how come you can play songs from them so well?” I put my hands in my lap and looked at him. “You were amazing! Is there
anything
you can’t do?” Good heavens, I heard myself sounding like a groupie.

“No. Go ahead, you’re welcome to think me some kind of god!” He was grinning now. “It’s rather sweet of you! Come on, we’ll be traveling back soon now. We’d better get into position.”

I got to my feet, trying to stand up as straight as possible.

“Over here,” Gideon told me. “Don’t look so remorseful. Basically the evening was a success. It went according to plan, if not exactly
as
planned. Hey, keep standing.” He put both hands on my waist and pulled me close, until my back was against his chest. “You can lean on me if you like.” He paused and then said, “Sorry I was so nasty to you just now.”

“All forgotten.” That wasn’t strictly true, but it was the first time I’d heard Gideon apologize for his behavior, and maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that its effects were wearing off, but I was very touched.

We stood there for a while in silence, still looking ahead in the flickering candlelight. Like the light, the shadows between the columns seemed to be moving, casting dark patterns on the floor and the church roof. “That man Alastair,” I said. “Why does he hate the count so much? Is it something personal?”

Gideon began playing with one of the ringlets falling on my shoulder. “Depends how you look at it. The organization that so pompously calls itself the Florentine Alliance has really been a kind of family firm for centuries. On his travels through time in the sixteenth century, the count happened by chance to meet the Conte di Madrone’s family in Florence. So … well, let’s say they entirely mistook his abilities. The Conte di Madrone’s religious views rejected the mere idea of time travel. In addition, there seems to have been some kind of trouble involving his daughter—anyway, the Conte was sure he was confronting a demon, and he felt that God had given him a mission to rid the world of what he thought was spawned by hell.” Suddenly Gideon’s voice was very close to my ear, and before he went on, his lips touched my neck. “When the Conte di Madrone died, his son inherited that mission, and his own son after him, and so on. Lord Alastair is the last in a line of fanatically obsessed demon-hunters, if that’s the way to put it.”

“I see,” I said, which was not entirely true. But it did seem to explain a bit of what I’d recently seen and heard. “Er … at this moment, are you
kissing
me?”

“No, only almost,” murmured Gideon, with his lips just above my skin. “I mean, no way do I want to exploit the fact that you’re drunk and may be mistaking me for some kind of god right now. But it doesn’t come easy.…”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder, and he held me closer.

“Like I said, you really don’t make things easy for me. You always give me the wrong sort of ideas in churches.…”

“There’s something you don’t know about me,” I said, with my eyes closed. “Sometimes I see … I can … well, sometimes I can see and hear people who’ve been dead a long time. And I can hear what they say. Like just now. I think the man I saw with Lord Alastair could have been that Italian Conte di Madrone.”

Gideon said nothing. He was probably wondering how he could most tactfully recommend me to see a good psychiatrist.

I sighed. I ought to have kept it to myself. Now, in addition to everything else, he must think me crazy.

“Here we go, Gwyneth,” he said, pushing me a little further off and turning me around so that I could look at him. It was too dark to see the expression on his face, but I could tell that he wasn’t smiling. “It would be a good thing if you could stay standing right here for the few seconds after I’ve gone. Ready?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“I’m letting go of you now,” he said, and at the same moment, he disappeared. I was alone in the church with all those dark shadows. But only a few seconds later, I registered the dizzy feeling inside me, and the shadows began going around in circles.

“There she is,” said Mr. George’s voice. I blinked. The church was brightly lit, and after the golden glow of candles in Lady Brompton’s salon, the halogen lighting was quite hard on the eyesight.

“Everything’s all right,” said Gideon, after scrutinizing me quickly. “You can close your medical bag, Dr. White.”

Dr. White growled something I couldn’t make out. In fact there were all kinds of instruments on the altar that you’d be more likely to see on a trolley in an operating room.

“Good heavens, Dr. White, are those surgical clamps?” Gideon laughed. “Now we know what you think of an eighteenth-century soirée!”

“I like to be ready for all eventualities,” said Dr. White, putting the instruments back in his bag.

“We’re anxious to hear your report,” said Falk de Villiers.

“I want to get some of this stuff off first.” Gideon was undoing his cravat.

“Did it all … work out?” asked Mr. George, glancing nervously at me.

“Yes,” said Gideon, throwing the cravat aside. “Everything went according to plan. Lord Alastair arrived a little later than expected, but in plenty of time to see us.” He grinned at me. “And Gwyneth played her part to perfection. Viscount Batten’s real ward couldn’t have done it better.”

I couldn’t help blushing.

“It will be a pleasure for me to tell Giordano that,” said Mr. George, with a note of pride in his voice. He offered me his arm. “Not that I expected anything else.”

“No, of course not,” I murmured.

*   *   *

I WOKE TO HEAR
Caroline whispering, “Gwenny, stop singing! It’s so embarrassing! You have to go to school.”

I abruptly sat up and stared at her. “Was I
singing
?”

“What?”

“You told me to stop singing.”

“I told you to wake up!”

“Then I wasn’t singing?”

“You were asleep,” said Caroline, shaking her head. “Hurry up, you’re already late. And Mum says you’re not on any account to use her shower gel.”

Under the shower I tried to suppress my memories of yesterday as far as possible. But I wasn’t very successful, so I wasted several minutes pressing my forehead to the door of the shower cubicle, muttering to myself, “It was all just a dream!” My headache did nothing to make me feel better.

When I finally came down to the dining room, luckily breakfast was all but over. Xemerius was hanging head down from the chandelier. “Sobered up again, have you, little tippler?”

Lady Arista looked me up and down. “Did you make up only one eye on purpose?”

“Er, no.” I was about to turn and go back to my room, but my mother said, “Breakfast first! You can put your mascara on later.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Aunt Glenda informed us.

“Nonsense!” said Aunt Maddy. She was sitting in the armchair beside the hearth in her dressing gown, with her knees drawn up like a little girl. “You can always leave out breakfast and save the calories to invest in a little glass of wine in the evening. Or two or three little glasses of wine.”

“A liking for the bottle seems to run in your family,” remarked Xemerius.

“We can see that from her figure,” whispered Aunt Glenda.

“I may be a little plump, Glenda, but I am not hard of hearing,” said Aunt Maddy.

“You ought to have stayed in bed,” said Lady Arista. “Breakfast is more relaxed for all concerned if you have your beauty sleep.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t get the chance,” said Aunt Maddy.

“She had another of her visions last night,” Caroline explained to me.

“Yes, I did,” said Aunt Maddy, “and it was horrible. So
sad
. It really upset me. There was this beautiful polished ruby heart sparkling in the sun.… It was lying on a rocky ledge above a precipice.”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know what happened next.

My mum smiled at me. “Eat something, darling. At least a little fruit. And don’t listen to her.”

“And then along came this lion.” Aunt Maddy sighed. “With a lovely golden coat.”

“Uh-oh!” said Xemerius. “And sparkling green eyes, I bet.”

“You have felt pen on your face,” I told Nick.

“Shh,” he replied. “This is where it gets exciting.”

“And when the lion saw the heart lying there, he gave it a push with his paw, and it fell down and down into the ravine below,” said Aunt Maddy, dramatically putting her hand to her bosom. “When it hit the bottom, it smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces, and when I looked more closely, I saw that they were all drops of blood.”

I swallowed. Suddenly I felt queasy.

“Oops,” said Xemerius.

“Then what happened?” asked Charlotte.

“Nothing,” said Aunt Maddy. “That was all—and quite nasty enough, too.”

“Oh,” said Nick, disappointed. “It started so well.”

Aunt Maddy’s eyes flashed at him angrily. “Young man, I’m not writing film scripts.”