“Wow!” Xemerius had whistled appreciatively through his teeth. “He ought to teach you that trick. The two of you would make an unbeatable team of burglars. Immortally good, even.”

We were back in the church where Xemerius and I had first met, and Gideon had first kissed me. Although there was no time to indulge in nostalgia, I felt as if all these events dated from long, long ago, particularly when I thought how much had happened since then. In reality, it was only a few days since that first occasion.

Gideon knocked on the door of the confessional from outside. “Ready?”

“No. Unfortunately they hadn’t invented zip fasteners in time for this dress,” I said despairingly. Even with the most daring contortions, I couldn’t reach all the little buttons down the back.

I slipped out of the confessional. Would my heart ever stop beating faster at the sight of Gideon? Would a time ever come when I didn’t feel I was dazzled by something incredibly wonderful every time I set eyes on him? Probably not. Although this time he was wearing an unspectacular dark gray suit, with a vest and a white shirt under the jacket. But it suited him so well, with his broad …

Xemerius, dangling head down from the gallery of the church, cleared his throat. “What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare…?”

“Very nice,” I said quickly. “Kind of a timeless Mafia boss outfit. And the tie perfectly tied. Madame Rossini would be proud of you.” Sighing, I went back to my buttons. “The inventor of the zip fastener ought to have been made a saint long ago.”

Gideon grinned. “Turn around and let me do it,” he said. “Oh,” he added a moment later, “there are hundreds of them.”

It took him some time to do up all the little buttons, which may have been because he kissed the back of my neck at every other button. I’d certainly have enjoyed that far more if Xemerius hadn’t called out, “Kissy, kissy, kissy!” every time.

At last we were through. Madame Rossini had found me a high-necked pale gray dress with a lace collar. It was slightly too long, so that I kept stumbling over it, and I’d have fallen full length if Gideon hadn’t caught me.

“Next time I’m wearing the suit,” I said. Gideon laughed and looked as if he was going to kiss me, but Xemerius groaned, “Oh, no, not again!” and I pushed him gently away.

“We don’t have time,” I said. Also there’s a bat-winged creature hanging six feet overhead making horrible faces. I looked crossly up at Xemerius.

“What’s the matter?” asked Xemerius. “I thought this was an important mission, not a date. You ought to be grateful to me.”

“Oh, thanks!” I grunted.

Meanwhile Gideon had gone into the choir of the church, and was kneeling down in front of the chronograph. After much thought, we had put it under the altar. Hopefully, no one would find it there while we were gone. Unless the church had a cleaning lady who worked Saturday evenings.

“I’ll hold the fort,” Xemerius promised. “If anyone comes to steal that thing, I’ll show no mercy. I’ll … I’ll spit torrents of water over them!”

Gideon took my hand. “Ready, Gwenny?”

I looked him straight in the eyes, and my heart did a little jump. “Ready when you are,” I said softly.

Xemerius probably said something caustic about that, but I didn’t hear it, because the needle was already pricking my finger, and waves of ruby-red light carried me away.

A moment later, I stood up. The church was empty and just as quiet as in our own time. I half hoped and half feared to see Xemerius in the gallery. He’d already been haunting this place in 1912.

Then Gideon landed beside me and immediately took my hand again. “Come on, we must hurry! We only have two hours, and I bet that won’t be time for even one-tenth of our questions.”

“Suppose we don’t find Lucy and Paul at Lady Tilney’s house?” I said, and my teeth began chattering with alarm. I still couldn’t bring myself to think of them as my parents. And if the conversation with Mum had been bad enough, what would it be like to face them—a couple of perfect strangers?

When we left the church, torrents of rain were pouring down. “Oh, great,” I said, and suddenly I’d have given anything for one of Madame Rossini’s impossible hats. “Couldn’t you have looked up the weather forecast before we left?”

“Oh, come on, it’s only a light summer shower,” said Gideon, pulling me on. But by the time we reached Eaton Place, the light summer shower had drenched us. You could say we attracted a lot of attention, because everyone else who was out and about had an umbrella and looked at us pityingly.

“A good thing we didn’t go to any trouble with authentic hairstyles,” I said when we were outside Lady Tilney’s front door. I nervously patted my hair, which was sticking to my scalp. My teeth were still chattering.

Gideon rang the bell and squeezed my hand more tightly.

“I don’t feel too good about this,” I whispered. “We still have time to disappear again. Maybe it would be best to think what order to ask our questions in first, in peace and quiet.”

“Hush, hush, hush,” said Gideon. “It’s all right, Gwenny, I’m with you.”

“Yes, you’re with me,” I said, and I went on repeating it like a soothing mantra. “You’re with me you’re with me you’re with me.”

The white-gloved butler opened the door, like last time. He didn’t look at all pleased to see us.

“Mr. Stillman, isn’t it?” Gideon gave him a friendly smile. “Would you be kind enough to announce us to Lady Tilney? Miss Gwyneth Shepherd and Gideon de Villiers.”

The butler hesitated for a moment and then said, “Wait here,” closing the door in our faces.

“My goodness. Mr. Bernard would never allow a thing like that,” I said indignantly. “Oh, well, he probably thinks you have a pistol with you again and you’ve come for some of his employer’s blood. He’s not to know that Lady Lavinia stole your pistol, and I’m still wondering just how she fixed that. I mean, what on earth did she do to take your mind off essentials? If she ever crosses my path again, I’ll ask her, not that I’m sure I really want to know. Oh, dear—here I go talking like a waterfall again. I always do that when I’m nervous. I don’t think I can face them, Gideon. And I can hardly breathe, or it could be that I’m simply not breathing, not that that makes any difference if I’m immortal.” At this point, I could hear my voice rising hysterically, but I went on. “Better step back, because next time the door opens, that man Stillman could well—”

The door opened.

“Hit you in the face,” I murmured all the same.

The beefy butler waved us in. “Lady Tilney will see you upstairs in the small drawing room,” he said stiffly. “As soon as I’ve searched you for weapons.”

“If you must!” Gideon spread his arms out and let Stillman pat him down.

“All right. You can go up,” said the butler, when he had finished.

“How about me?” I asked, puzzled.

“You’re a lady. Ladies don’t carry guns.” Gideon smiled at me, took my hand, and led me up the stairs.

“Talk about carelessness!” I glanced at Stillman, who was following a few steps behind us. “You mean he’s not afraid of me just because I’m a woman? He ought to see Tomb Raider sometime. For all he knows, I could have a nuclear bomb under my dress and a hand grenade in each cup of my bra. I call it antifeminist!” I could have gone on like this without stopping till around sunset, but Lady Tilney was waiting for us at the top of the stairs, slender and straight as a ramrod. She was definitely a beautiful woman—even her icy expression couldn’t change that. I’d been going to smile spontaneously at her, but as the corners of my mouth began to stretch, I made them stop. In 1912 Lady Tilney was much more alarming than later, when she’d started making crochet pigs as a hobby, and I felt uncomfortably aware that not only was our hair all over the place, my dress was also hanging like a damp sack. I wondered instinctively whether hair dryers had been invented yet.

“You again,” said Lady Tilney to Gideon, in a voice as cold as her eyes. Only Lady Arista could have outdone her. “You’re certainly persistent. You ought to have realized last time you visited that I have no intention of giving you any of my blood.”

“We’re not here about your blood, Lady Tilney,” Gideon replied. “That was all settled long ago.” He cleared his throat. “We’d very much like to talk to you and Lucy and Paul again. This time without any … misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings!” Lady Tilney folded her arms across her breast in its lace blouse. “Last time, young man, you can’t be said to have behaved well. Indeed, you showed a shocking propensity for violence. Moreover, I do not know where Lucy and Paul are at this moment, so even if the circumstances were different, I would not be able to help you.” She paused for a moment, while her eyes rested on me. “However, I think I could arrange a conversation.” Her voice was half a degree warmer. “Perhaps with Gwyneth on her own, and of course in some other period of t—”

“I really don’t want to be discourteous, but I’m sure you will understand that we have very little time at our disposal,” Gideon interrupted her and led me on, up to the top of the stairs, where I and my dress dripped water all over the expensive rug. “And I know that Lucy and Paul are staying with you, so please would you just call them? I promise to behave myself this time.”

“This is not…,” began Lady Tilney, but then a door opened and shut somewhere in the background, and soon after that, a graceful young woman joined her.

Lucy.

My mother.

I held Gideon’s hand even more tightly while I stared at Lucy, this time taking in every detail of her appearance. All the other Montrose women were undeniably like each other, with red hair, pale porcelain complexions, and big blue eyes, but I was looking mainly for anything she had in common with me. Were those my ears? Didn’t I have the same small nose? And the curve of her eyebrows—weren’t mine just the same? And didn’t my forehead trace the same funny folds when I frowned?

“He’s right. We don’t want to waste any time, Margaret,” said Lucy quietly. Her voice was shaking very slightly, and it went to my heart. “Would you be kind enough to find Paul, Mr. Stillman?”

Lady Tilney sighed, but when Stillman looked inquiringly at her, she nodded. As the butler passed us and climbed up another set of stairs, Lady Tilney said, “I would just like to remind you, Lucy, that last time he held a pistol to the back of your head.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” said Gideon. “On the other hand … the circumstances at the time left me no option.” He gave Lucy a meaningful glance. “Now, however, we’ve come by information that has changed our minds.”