Lucas listened to the news grimly. He quickly glanced back at D'Artagnan and Buckingham. Buckingham had read the letter and was engaged in an animated discussion with the Gascon.
"We haven't got much time," he said. "What happens now? Taylor could be anywhere with that plate."
"If he's clocked out to another time, we've lost him," the agent said. "But Cobra doesn't think he's given up yet."
"No, I don't think he would, from what I've heard," said Lucas. "So we just ride it out?"
The agent nodded. "Watch yourself, for God's sake. I'll look after Buckingham. We-"
They were interrupted by a shout from Buckingham and they wheeled their horses and galloped off after Villiers and D'Artagnan. They rode at full speed toward London and they did not slack their pace as they entered the city. Buckingham rode like a man possessed, running down several hapless Englishmen who did not get out of his way in time. When they arrived at Buckingham's residence, he sprang from his horse and dashed inside. Planchet stayed with the horses while they ran to keep up with Buckingham.
They ran through several elegant chambers, following the prime minister, until they came to his bedroom. Inside the bedroom was a tiny alcove and within that alcove, hidden by a tapestry, was a small door. He pulled the tapestry aside and opened the door with a little golden key he wore on a chain around his neck. Inside the door was a tiny chamber illuminated by candles in small red glasses, giving the room a sacrosanct glow. It was a shrine to Anne of Austria. A full-length portrait of the queen hung beneath a blue velvet canopy and underneath the portrait was an altar, on which rested a small golden casket, intricately worked. Buckingham lunged for this casket and opened it, pulling out a blue ribbon festooned with diamonds-the diamond studs given him by Anne.
"Thank God," said Buckingham. "They are safe. They are all here."
Lucas frowned, remembering something.
"I have only worn them once, at a ball given by the king a week ago at Windsor. The Countess de Winter-"
"Milady!" Lucas said.
"Yes," said Buckingham. "She… that is to say, I…" He glanced up at the portrait of the queen. "Forgive me, my love."
"The Countess was here?" said Lucas. "She saw the diamonds?"
Buckingham nodded. "She was quite taken by them. She told me that she loved diamonds and I let her examine them. When I took them off that night, I put them back into the casket, which I left on the table by my bed. The next morning, I returned it to this chamber, but I did not open it. I later learned she was an agent of the cardinal's. When I read that letter, the first thought that sprang into my mind was that she might have… during the night… But they are here, intact, all twelve of them, thank God." He put the studs back into the casket and handed it to D'Artagnan. "Here, take it. It was altogether too dangerous a gift."
Lucas pulled the agent out into the bedroom. "Have you got a plate here?"
The agent frowned. "Yes, but-"
"There's no time to lose. Andre and I have got to get back to Paris at once!"
"But what about D'Artagnan? You must-"
"Forget about D'Artagnan! According to Dumas, two of the studs were missing, but all twelve of them are there!"
"I still don't understand. What does that-"
"If the studs played no part in Taylor's plan, why did he come here? Why did he follow through with the original scenario, even going so far as to seduce Buckingham so that he could examine the st
uds more closely? According to history, Milady stole two of the studs to give to Richelieu."
"But all the studs are here," said Wolverine.
"Precisely," Lucas said. "Buckingham was supposed to have two studs made here, duplicates to make up for the ones Milady stole. Duplicates," said Lucas, squeezing the agent's arm hard.
"Then if Taylor gave Richelieu two studs…" said the agent. His eyes widened. "Good God! Come one!"
At that moment, D'Artagnan came out of the chamber. Seeing Lucas and Andre running off with Patrick, he called out, "Where are you going?"
"An urgent matter! An agent of the cardinal!" Lucas shouted over his shoulder, improvising. "Go on, D'Artagnan, ride! We'll see you in Paris!"
They ran for "Patrick's" chambers, leaving behind them a perplexed D'Artagnan and a repentant Buckingham, kneeling before the portrait of the queen.
The timing was all wrong, but now there was no choice. Taylor hadn't planned to make his final move for several days yet. There would have been plenty of time to arrange things before D'Artagnan returned with the diamond studs, trailing all of Mongoose's agents behind him.
They would have become increasingly anxious as the journey of the musketeers progressed. They would have had to watch closely every attempt made by Richelieu's men to stop the musketeers to see if it could be a cover for a terrorist ploy. Their anxiety could easily have already triggered needless interference with the cardinal's men. That would have worked for Taylor. He knew that Mensinger's "Fate Factor" tended to compensate for the deaths of people who were historically insignificant, but in this case, such minor disruptions would only place added strain upon temporal continuity. There had simply been too many small disruptions with too inadequate compensations in too short a span of time. With the final act, the scenario would have been irreversibly disrupted and a temporal split would have been inevitable.