Chapter Fourteen: Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. Gaspard pressed himself up against the wall of the crypt entrance, trying to conceal himself as a flash of blue lighte...
Chapter Thirteen: Old Friends, New Friends Something wet ran down his cheek, a tear? No. Now he could feel it again, and again - upon his neck, his forehead, his cheeks, stinging his closed eyes. He ...
Gaspard Once upon a time there was a very great man who worked at the court of a great king. He had an adoring wife and three children, and they all lived together in a magnificent house. The man had...
Chapter Twelve: The Calm Before Antonio was pacing back and forth, his footsteps throwing up little maelstroms of glittering dust that quietly spun off behind him into the dark corners of the library...
Chapter Eleven: A Reunion The courtyard was in an enclosed, and partially covered cloister of the Église St-Etienne-du-Mont. The dawn light reflected off the damp, smooth cobbles, and flickered over ...
They rounded the corner and walked into a large, bright, perfumed parlour filled with Chinese-blue porcelain vases and simple, upholstered wood furniture. Some of the vases contained branches of jasm...
Chapter Ten: The Cabal The first sensation was one of floating, bobbing in the midst of a great, warm blizzard. His head swam with the vague memories of what had transpired. He opened an eye and slam...
My Dear Arthur, I apologise for the hastiness and brevity of this communiqué. The copied bulletin I have enclosed demonstrates Napoleon’s most recent troop movements. I became suspicious after such a...
Chapter Nine: The Marquess of Wellington Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington had his eyes closed. A rare, warm ray of sun had found its way through the thin clouds scudding across the summer sky...
____________ When Francesca gracefully popped into this world from her mother’s womb she gave the mid-wife a look that stilled her hand and saved her young bottom from the customary slap. When she di...
Chapter Eight: Something Wicked ‘Daring, darling, darling, what are you doing?’ Francesca turned the mirror to see her reflection and shushed, ‘shhh!’ I am looking at these boots in the window, I thi...
So - Joseph stared at the two men - if he understood correctly, he wasn’t in Florence, he was in the reflection of Florence. ‘Well... but.’ He tried again. ‘ But then are you the reflection of a bart...
Chapter 7: Travelling by Reflectology Beneath the Basilica of Santa Croce the presence of a great many musty, mouldy and morbid funeral monuments can be found. For this reason the citizens of Florenc...
Paris is cold and especially grey tonight (or so I imagine - my shutters are closed!) I spent the night studying history, getting some work done on the book and being distracted by design and decorat...
Ah, Sunday afternoons .. tea, cookies, feeling guilty about not writing ...So we’re six Chapters in. Believe it or not, it actually took me heaps of late nights with far too much chocolate in my syst...
Chapter Six: Authorised Personnel Only (if you please) Joseph L. Bandyford was a young man who was destined to do great things, he was a doer who was fated to be feted... better than feted, exalted! ...
Chapter Five: St. Etienne Du Mont Uncle Antonio appeared to be muttering to himself when he was in fact asking Francesca, who wasn’t paying attention, a question. ‘Francesca! I said it is your move, ...
Chapter Four: Honour Among Thieves (and all that) Gaspard Épéé du Bois was not afraid, he was never afraid, which was probably his biggest fault (next to egotism, vanity and a never ending appetite)....
______________ Francesca slowly opened one eye and peered round the room. Her partially enclosed Louis XV bed showed no discernible sign of what she remembered transpiring. She opened the other eye a...
Chapter Three: ‘Tick, tock, tock’ Well, honestly! How did he expect her to fall asleep now?! Francesca lay the pages down and picked up the envelope again. Blowing into it she saw that there was a ve...
She quickly changed, and began sorting through her post. Francesca loved reading her mail before going to sleep, as she hoped the images in the letters might carry over into her dreams. She picked at...
Chapter Two - There Is No Royal Road to Learning This evening, at this very moment, Francesca was bored. She was reading the latest scandal about an Englishman who had been poisoned by his mistress b...
Chapter One - The Third Uncle Squinting into the reflected sunlight over his spoon, he admired the consummate artistry of Bernini’s Fontana Dei Quattro Fiumi, only turning away as a sudden breeze thr...
Preface Do you think Napoleon would have been a better emperor had he not been such an absolute fanatic for ice-cream? I mean, would he have been such a brutal, self-possessed little man if he had ha...
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