The Stuart Sapphire (19 page)

Sure that men had been incarcerated in the dungeons of the Tower of London and forgotten for the rest of their lives for less, he found himself sweating as she tried once again to make the kiss linger, pressing herself against him.

As a last resort, he pretended to be seized by a fit of coughing. Forced to release him, he breathed again and said: ‘Highness, the sapphire, if you please, where is it?’

She put her hand deep in the pocket of her jacket. ‘Here it is, isn’t it lovely?’ she said cheerfully. ‘I carry it with me everywhere.’

‘May I see it?’

Tam took it from her. A dark blue stone, no larger than a miniature or a lady’s locket.

‘You have no idea the trouble this has caused,’ he said. ‘The weary hours Mr Townsend and I have spent – days at your royal father’s command searching every jeweller’s shop, every thieves’ kitchen the length and breadth of
Brighton searching for it. You have been very naughty, Highness.’

She shrugged. ‘I had no idea. I am sorry.’

He believed her. It was hardly surprising that her father had not told her that it was missing with so many other things on his mind. His mistress murdered in his bed and how to get rid of her body so that he would not be involved.

‘He never talks to me, you know,’ she said sadly. ‘Avoids me whenever he can and, if he has anything worth saying, he gives it to messengers or Lady de Clifford to deliver.’

Tam’s annoyance evaporated in sudden compassion for her loneliness and rejection. The reason she stole the sapphire was that she could not ask as any adored daughter would, knowing it could be wheedled out of a doting father.

‘Will you do something for me?’ he asked.

‘Anything,’ she said hopefully. ‘Anything.’

‘Do you want to get into your father’s favour again – have him think you are a wonderful, clever girl that he is proud of?’ he added, realising he was asking a great deal from the little he knew of the Prince Regent.

‘Do you really think he could feel like that?’ She sounded hopeful, although she could never love her father. Too late for that, but it was interesting to consider the possibilities of what might be in this for her.

‘As I told you he has been distraught at the sapphire’s loss and if anyone – particularly yourself – were to – find – it, then he would be so grateful I am sure he would grant you anything you wish.’

‘Let me keep it, you mean?’ she said eagerly.

‘As it will be yours one day to wear in the Coronation Crown, I am sure he will let you look after it until it is needed officially.’

She frowned and gave a little shiver. ‘But he will be furious if I confess that I took it,’ she said nervously.

‘I realise that. I think you should – perhaps find it – somewhere. In the garden or even better maybe in the bedroom he is having refurbished, in a crack in the floorboards perhaps. If he thinks it has been there all the time, he will be too relieved to be angry even though it might have been the first place he looked.’

She brightened. ‘I am so sorry,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t care about Townsend, don’t like him much. He is not important. But I do apologise for all the trouble I have put you through, searching the town for it.’ And standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek.

Closing the door on her, he felt no great satisfaction that the mystery of the Stuart Sapphire was solved.

Only deep despair. Charlotte would be the most surprised girl in the whole world to know that she had been indirectly the cause of two deaths. Her theft of the sapphire had set in motion a train of events that had ended in Percy’s death.

And had she not been in the prince’s bedroom that night and interrupted Percy’s inept lovemaking, Lady Sarah Creeve would still be alive.

Going over to the window Tam saw Lady Gemma walking past. She was alone and he rapped furiously on the pane to alert her attention.

Turning briefly, she nodded and, although he mouthed ‘Wait!’ she hurried on. Exasperated, Tam rushed out of the front door and across the garden almost knocking over Townsend walking towards the entrance to the Pavilion, in deep conversation with a stranger.

Hastily apologising, he noted that Townsend’s companion was the man he had seen briefly on the steps as he was leaving Creeve House. It must be very important business and a fast horse that had brought him so swiftly to Brighton, Tam decided, as he rushed on in his headlong pursuit of Gemma.

He had to talk to her and he no longer cared who saw them together. Now that the Stuart Sapphire had been found and the marchioness’s death solved, he was well aware that his own death knell had sounded.

He was expendable. Beneath the genteel splendour of the Pavilion, the executioner’s pistol was poised in readiness.

Gemma was walking swiftly but he caught up with her and instead of slowing down she merely acknowledged his presence with an angry glance. ‘Your visitor has left, has she?’

Tam stared at her, shook his head. How did she know about the princess?

He was not long kept in doubt.

‘Henry took me to meet his father. It was very brief. I cannot say that HRH was very impressed. He was polite but he indicated that he wished to speak to Henry alone. I was dismissed. Henry was so embarrassed I decided that instead of waiting around in the corridors with various courtiers seeking an audience, I would come in search of you.’

Tam smiled at her. ‘I am so glad you did.’

There was no answer to that smile. ‘Outside your door, I heard voices, one of them was young and female. So I decided not to wait, that you might be some time and put out by my unwanted presence. Now if you will excuse me,’ she added coldly.

Keeping pace with her, he put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘No, I won’t excuse you. Gemma, please – please listen!’

Even as he said the words, he thought, what reason has she to be angry anyway? She is going to marry Lord Henry.

They had reached one of the shaded arbours with a secluded seat. The gardens were almost deserted on a dull afternoon, with a chill breeze off the sea. ‘Let us sit down – for just a moment,’ he pleaded.

She didn’t refuse and sounding mollified, said: ‘What is it all about, Tam?’

‘You might well ask. I am being pursued – relentlessly.’

She bristled at that. ‘Not by me – I assure you,’ she said hotly.

‘Would that it were, Gemma,’ his smile was tender. ‘Now will you please listen. Princess Charlotte has got it into her silly young head that she is in love with me. When I got to my room, looking forward, I might add, to being on my own for a while, a little peace and quiet, there she was, waiting for me. It seems that I cannot escape—’

‘How sad for you,’ she said mockingly and rose to her feet. ‘Do not let me detain you a minute longer. I cannot compete with a royal princess.’

He stood up, took hold of her arms and throwing caution to the winds, he whispered: ‘Just say that again. Do you want to compete?’

She blushed, looking almost tearfully into those strange luminous eyes gazing down into hers. ‘Of course not, Tam,’ she said hastily. ‘A mere slip of the tongue. I thought – I just thought that we were – friends,’ she added lamely knowing that this was the thinnest of excuses.

‘We are friends and you are going to marry Lord Henry,’ he said firmly.

‘Am I? Then you know more than I do. I would point out that I have not accepted his proposal yet. I still have to make up my mind.’

‘Then what are you doing here in Brighton at the Pavilion as the prince’s guest?’

‘It was an excuse, any excuse, I am afraid, to get away from Creeve, I mean.’

‘Is that the truth?’

She looked up at him again, shook her head. ‘No, it is not, Tam Eildor, only part of it. I wanted to see you again. It was the perfect opportunity. I might never have another. I knew that,’ she said sadly.

And jabbing a finger in the direction of his chest, ‘I also want to know the truth – about you. About your magic
appearance on the hulks that day. I am plagued by an enquiring kind of mind and I simply cannot work it out.’

He laughed. ‘And I want the truth too. Of how you escaped from the smugglers and turned up at the Old Ship Inn.’ He indicated the seat. ‘So let’s sit down and pray that this time, the weather will be on our side and we won’t be interrupted yet again. This might be our last chance,’ he added grimly. Taking her hand, he went on: ‘You first, Gemma.’

Taking a deep breath, she said: ‘When I was hauled aboard the smugglers’ boat, I had a bit of unexpected luck. Their leader was no stranger. I had known him most of my life. A regular and most welcome visitor at Creeve, he provides Father with fine French brandies and wines, all duty free. He used to bring me lace and French dolls. I thought he was wonderful.

‘He had another use now, he was able to keep his men at bay, from laying hands on a pretty boy, the pretty fish they said they had caught. I thought you were dead, that you had drowned,’ she said sadly, and went on:

‘They were too polite to ask what Lady Gemma Creeve was doing in the water in boy’s clothes and presumed that I wanted to get back to Creeve. But then I told old Davy Jones – yes, that was his real name or so he said – my sorry tale about running away from my wicked stepmother. It seemed that even the smugglers had heard about Lady Sarah. I said I was never going back and that once I had enough money I would go back to London and proceed with my ambition – to be an actress. I had met Mr Sheridan and I was sure he would give me a part in one of his plays.

‘Old Davy immediately offered me money, but I said no. I was not willing to accept his charity. It had to be my
very own money that I had earned for the first time in my life. He thought for a while, looking me over, as it were, and said that perhaps I could give a hand, become one of their band for a while, going back and forward to France. He explained that it was very lucrative.’

She paused. ‘Have you any idea how much they earn?’

Tam shook his head and she continued: ‘Half a guinea for a day and a night’s work, plus expenses for eating and drinking and a horse found for land travel. They also get profits of a dollop of tea, thirteen pounds in weight, which is half a bag. Their total profit is about twenty-four or twenty-five shillings a time and they sometimes make two journeys a week.’

Again she paused, frowning. ‘I’m sure you can do your sums as well as I can, Tam. Very tempting, when common working men, labourers, are lucky to earn twenty pounds a year and, when they are out of a job, a handout from the parish.’

‘That’s the good side,’ said Tam. ‘What happens if they are caught?’

She shuddered. ‘Condemned to death and hanged in chains as a grisly warning. I didn’t fancy that much and there was another slight problem. I get dreadfully seasick, as I discovered being transported over to the hulks – so what use would I be to anyone on a stormy Channel crossing? However, I was tempted; just one successful voyage would be enough.

‘After they put me ashore they were going back to France that night so I promised to think it over and they left me in the Old Ship, where incidentally the landlord had worked in the stables at Creeve as a young lad. So luck was with me once again; I had fallen among friends.

‘When I saw Sarah’s death in the newspaper, I decided
to give Father another try. He would need comforting. I hoped he had missed me and wanted me home again. How wrong could one be,’ she added bitterly.

‘Why did you run away from me?’

‘When you came into the Old Ship, at first I thought I was seeing a ghost. The smugglers thought, and so did I, that they had killed you and, seeing you alive and well, I guessed that you would be furious, believing that I was responsible – for what happened – being hit on the head and thrown back in the sea. I was scared—’

‘Scared of me, when I had saved your life?’

‘In a word, yes. There was another reason. The more I thought about your miraculous appearance on the hulks, the more convinced I was that this was something beyond my understanding. A trick – but sinister and very frightening.’

She stopped and smiled sweetly. ‘But that is what you are going to tell me about, is it not?’ At his reluctant expression she said: ‘I want the truth, Tam Eildor. Are you a magician, or an alchemist? Something like that.’

Tam shook his head. ‘I wish it was that easy to explain.’

She put a hand on his arm. ‘Whatever it is, please – please Tam, I must know.’ She paused. ‘You’re not the Devil, are you?’

Tam laughed out loud and bent his head: ‘Look – have a search. No horns. No cloven hoofs either.’

‘An angel then?’ she said solemnly.

‘An angel – me? My dear Gemma, you do me too much credit!’ And touching his chin ruefully, ‘Have you ever heard of an angel in need of a shave?’

Ignoring that, she said rather crossly: ‘I have heard they come to earth sometimes.’

‘Indeed – well, I have never met one, so you can cross
that assumption off your list.’ And, taking her hand again: ‘Dear Gemma, I will tell you all that I can, but I can hardly expect you to believe me.’

‘Try me,’ she said firmly. ‘There are lots of things I cannot see and touch that my religious belief insists I have faith in, like angels and being raised from the dead and having everlasting life.’

Tam hoped she wouldn’t ask him about God since even in 2250, despite all efforts of the scientists, the jury was still out on that particular mystery.

‘You believe that the past exists then,’ he said, ‘what about the future? Can you believe in the world that will exist for centuries after this one?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Can you imagine this world, this place we are now, what it will be like, say, four hundred years from now?’

She frowned looking towards the distant line on the horizon that was the English Channel. ‘I can imagine that a lot of new things will be invented, science we are told is just at the beginning.’

‘And if I were to tell you that carriages will run without the aid of horses, and vehicles called trains will run on lines across the country carrying passengers from town to town, the length and breadth of the land.’

Pausing he pointed upwards. ‘And there in the sky above us, machines will fly like birds and we will be able to talk and see other people in other countries and planets on screens in their own homes. And that future man will not only have made all these marvellous inventions but will have conquered travel beyond earth, through space and time, so that he can choose to visit past worlds. And there will be one universal language; people the world over will understand one another.’

He couldn’t expect her to understand that at birth a microchip in a child’s brain made that possible.

She had listened patiently, now she said calmly: ‘So that is your answer, Tam. You are telling me all this because you came here from the future.’

‘You believe me?’ Tam was surprised at her fearless, unquestioning acceptance of what he had dreaded trying to explain.

‘I don’t think you would tell me a lie about something so important,’ she said simply. ‘Especially as this is the answer to why you are human like the rest of us, yet so different. I have never met anyone like you, nor has Mrs Fitzherbert. She is similarly curious, I can tell you. She is very impressed by you but said the same thing when your name was mentioned.’

Smiling, she said: ‘Tell me what brought you here, Tam.’

And as briefly as he could, realising that at any moment they might be interrupted, Tam told her how he had chosen this time-quest in Brighton during the prince’s Regency, only to be landed by some coastal erosion over the centuries, in the wrong place on the hulks. And how it was vital that he got back to that same place before he could return once again to his own time.

Pausing for breath, he waited for comment. There was none beyond a mere nod.

‘I have to get back soon, Gemma. My time here is running out. I’ll spare you all the details but I have been helping Mr Townsend the Bow Street officer with his enquiries. Tracking down your stepmother’s murderer and a jewel robbery at the Pavilion.’

‘You think the same person was involved in both?’

Remembering Princess Charlotte’s confession, he said: ‘Perhaps I am getting too close as there have been a
number of attempts to kill me.’

‘Oh, Tam,’ she clasped his hand. ‘How dreadful. I could get you money to go to London—’

He didn’t ask how. ‘I don’t want to go to London, I have to go as near as possible to where the convict ship is anchored, the stepping-off place to my own time.’

Gemma was frowning, silent for a moment. ‘These attempts to kill you, are they connected to Simone and Percy’s deaths?’ she asked shrewdly.

‘Percy was killed in error. The pistol shot was meant for me.’ He owed her that part of the truth and he heard her sharp intake of breath as she clasped his hand more tightly.

‘And so you see it is vital that I leave, and you are the only person on this earth that can help me. Your smuggler friends could perhaps be persuaded to take me out to the hulks. In the dark I can climb aboard, find the exact spot—’

‘And then you will vanish again, just as you first appeared.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘It is going to be very difficult to arrange all this, Tam. I do not even know how to get in touch with Old Davy beyond leaving a message at the inn. Besides, when I was not there they would presume that I had gone back to my old life at Creeve. They could hardly be expected to wait around while I made up my mind about joining them.’

Pausing, she asked: ‘Is there no other way?’

In answer he rolled back the sleeve of his shirt and showed her the star shape in his wrist containing the microchip.

‘I can use this in an emergency. I have only tried it once when we were both in the sea, but it might be different on land. I don’t know.’

‘Oh Tam, try it. And take me back with you.’