The Stuart Sapphire

by Alanna Knight

  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.’

  ‘I can’t, Gemma.’

  She sighed and said: ‘Don’t you want to?’

  ‘I think you know the answer to that, Gemma. In the interests of time of which we have so little, to put it simply, I love you. If that is what you want to know. But there is no way I can transport anything or anybody from 1811 into the future.’

  She knew it was true, and leaning over she kissed his cheek. ‘I love you, Tam. What is more, I think I will always love you,’ she added sadly.

  It was the answer he already knew. For one brief moment they had looked into the depths of one another’s souls where there were no secrets.

  ‘There is not the least possibility of meeting anyone like you ever again.’

  This revelation did not make Tam rejoice. No longer jealous of Lord Henry, he wanted above all things for Gemma to forget this brief time when the paths of their lives had touched and to be happy. But in common with taking her forward in time, her future was beyond his powers.

  ‘We cannot rely on Old Davy. If I told him the truth he would think he was dealing with a madman – and however hard-headed smugglers are, they do cling to sailors’ superstitious nonsense about the sea.’

  She thought for a moment. ‘There is another way. Henry and I left immediately after you, he to see his father, so I came to tell you that Mrs Fitzherbert had arranged to meet friends on a picnic along the coast. It was agreed that Henry and I should accompany her suitably chaperoned, and quite fortuitously, having just met you again, she thought perhaps you would like to join us.’

  She laughed and gave him a coy glance. ‘Please say yes.’

  And Tam realised that the shadows were darkening ahead.

  Looking at Gemma with time ticking away into hours only, this would be their last leave-taking.

  As if she read his mind, suddenly practical, she said: ‘I am glad we never had the chance to be lovers, Tam. I do not think I could have borne the sadness of having made love, being yours for a brief hour, then having to face the rest of my life without you. And because I would never forget you, your ghost would stand between me and any other man.’

  The sun had come out again and there were people walking in the gardens. Tam wondered idly if Charlotte had produced the sapphire for her father. Once the prince knew that Percy had killed the marchioness, the two mysteries solved would also signal his death knell, his immediate execution.

  Tam Eildor the expendable would be eliminated.

  Footsteps near the arbour, voices. Gemma said: ‘I must go back to Steine House. Henry will be looking for me.’

  In what might be their own farewell, Tam took her in his arms, held her for a moment and they kissed, not deeply or passionately but as loving friends. Releasing her, she laughed: ‘At least you are real, Tam Eildor.’

  ‘Real enough.’ Real enough for my heart to break, Tam thought. A few more moments like that and I would be the one staying in her time. He had never felt such strong emotions, but he recognised the potential dangers.

  He walked with her the short distance to Steine House. Bowing over her hand, she curtseyed, and they parted as polite strangers.

  Turning, Tam walked briskly towards the Pavilion. The world seemed suddenly empty without her. The pain was so great, he wondered if next time he took on a time-quest, was there some way he could leave his emotions behind, become a mere detecting machine?

  He didn’t like what he had found in 1811 and the sooner he returned to the future the better. As for Gemma, she would forget him and marry Lord Henry. There might even be a mention of it in the history books, if he could bear to read about it.

  He saw Henry walking across the gardens. He looked anxious and preoccupied. Greeting Tam, he said: ‘I am searching for Lady Gemma. Have you seen her?’

  ‘I believe it was she I observed heading in the direction of Steine House.’ Something of a lie, but he was not sure how the lovesick Henry would take that long tête-à-tête in a secluded arbour.

  Henry nodded briefly and, about to continue on his walk, he turned quickly and said: ‘Do take extra care, Mr Eildor. If your work with Mr Townsend is at an end, I would advise you to resume your journey to London as soon as possible.’

  Without awaiting any reply, he bowed briefly and hurried on.

  Tam watched him go. Was that the remark of a jealous lover? Did Henry suspect something and want rid of the competition? Or, more charitably, had he some knowledge and was this a deadly warning?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was indeed a deadly warning.

  Henry’s interview with his royal father had not gone at all well. It was obvious to him, and he feared also to Gemma, that although polite, the prince was somewhat taken aback at Henry’s sudden decision to wed and at his choice of a wife. Such a slip of a girl, plain and not a bit of flesh on her, no bosom either. Just a bag of bones in bed.

  Henry could almost read his father’s thoughts as Gemma took her leave from the royal presence and he could hear that Townsend was forestalling him with the sad news of Percy’s death, Townsend’s own carefully edited version.

  ‘A stalker, you say, Townsend,’ the prince had said; ‘How very odd. He should be closely questioned.’

  And the prince was not well pleased that this would not be possible since Townsend had shot him on the spot. Listening to this graphic account, the prince interrupted:

  ‘How very unfortunate. He might have had useful information.’ A hard glance at Townsend’s face and he said smoothly: ‘Perhaps it was an accident, do you think, Townsend? Perhaps he killed the wrong man.’

  Townsend barely suppressed a sigh of relief. ‘As your Royal Highness suggests, it is possible,’ was his vague reply and the glance they exchanged and the prince’s brief nod confirmed that Eildor had to go and Townsend was now the man for the job.

  Once the sapphire was recovered, and the marchioness’s killer apprehended, that would be the right time.
/>   Listening respectfully to the prince’s sympathetic noises over the death of a loyal servant, the necessity of getting a speedy messenger on the road to inform Percy’s wife and family, who the prince had met only once, Townsend felt that perhaps he was secretly relieved that yet another witness had been permanently silenced, a royal scandal averted.

  They had been interrupted by the arrival of Henry and Gemma. After the brief introduction both she and Townsend were dismissed.

  Henry was upset as the door closed on Gemma, keenly aware that she had not made the right impression on his father, as he had hoped. But that must wait. There were other matters, as the prince said:

  ‘That was a sad business indeed about Percy. Most unfortunate. He will be sadly missed.’

  ‘He was my good friend, Sire—’ Henry began.

  ‘Indeed, indeed, and you will no doubt miss him. But have you any suitable person in mind who might most easily fill this vacant role? I am sure there are many with the right qualifications—’

  His manner was urgent, and as Henry listened politely to the required qualifications of background and breeding, he was taken aback by this impersonal requiem for Percy’s long years as a trusted and loyal servant.

  ‘I have not yet had time or even desire to consider such matters. I beg pardon, Sire, but so many things happened all together: Lady Sarah’s funeral and my meeting with Lady Gemma. I had just asked Sir Joseph for her hand a few hours before – before – Percy—’ Overcome with emotion his voice trailed off.

  ‘Quite so, quite so.’ Mention of the funeral reminded the prince that the identity of the marchioness’s killer was still lacking.

  He frowned. ‘Matters are not progressing, indeed not at all, in that direction, or the urgent recovery of our missing sapphire. We are disappointed in Townsend – most deeply – I had imagined he would have had the solution by now.’ And shaking his head sadly, ‘Our faith in him is quite destroyed.’

  Henry forbore to point out that just a week had passed and that such matters might take some time.