Lacybourne Manor (48 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #romance, #reincarnation, #ghosts, #magic, #witches, #contemporary romance

BOOK: Lacybourne Manor
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Marian heart sang with delight
even as she felt almost embarrassed watching them.

Then she accepted her tea and
biscuit from Albert and they moved across the Hall toward Colin and
Sibyl.

“Mrs. Byrne!” Sibyl cried and
detached herself from Colin’s arm to give Marian a brief but strong
embrace. “I’m so glad you came.”

Marian smiled dotingly on the
pair.

It would take the force of more
than one dark soul to cross these two, in that joyous moment,
Marian felt sure of it.

Unfortunately, as her
many-greats-Grandmother Esmeralda was nearly five hundred years
before her, Marian didn’t know it, but she was terribly wrong.

Sibyl introduced everyone to
Mrs. Griffith who, throughout this, did not drop Colin’s hand.

“Mrs. Griffith, what a
delight,” Mags remarked after the introductions.

“Did you get my letters?” Mrs.
Griffith barked to Sibyl’s mother, a severe tone that mildly
surprised Marian but which made Mags grin.

But Sibyl started then stared
at her mother. “Letters?”

“All six of them,” Mags assured
the old lady, ignoring her daughter’s question.

“Did you get the letter about
this one?” Mrs. Griffith queried abruptly, swinging her cane
dangerously to indicate Colin, its unsteady arc coming so close to
him he had to swiftly lean back to avoid it smashing into his
jaw.

“I did indeed,” Mags
replied.

“Mrs. Griffith, what did you
do?” Sibyl turned her attention to the older woman.

“Well, I approved, of course.
And not just because you’re both sickeningly good-looking.” Then
she turned to confide in Colin, “You are remarkably handsome, my
boy, but don’t let it go to your head. Nothing’s worse than a
conceited man.” Colin’s lips twitched at her blunt advice as Mrs.
Griffith turned back to Sibyl and stated, “His minibus tirade was
too good not to share.”

Sibyl closed her eyes slowly
and one could practically hear her mentally counting to ten. When
she opened them, she glowered at her mother. “You could have said
something.”

“Do I need to tell you
everything?” Mags countered.

Marian noted that Colin seemed
unaffected by all of this except, perhaps, to look mildly
amused.

“Well, I approve too, Mrs.
Griffith.” Scarlett threw in her lot. “He’s a shocking chauvinist
and unrepentantly bourgeois but he’ll do.”


That’s what
I
thought.
Not about the chauvy-and-bourgie-whatsit, don’t know a thing about
that, but he’ll do,” Mrs. Griffith agreed and then giggled like a
schoolgirl.

Sibyl emitted a frustrated
noise then announced, “I need to go backstage.”

At this, Mrs. Griffith
announced, “And we need to find seats, the good ones are mostly
taken, so…” she turned to Colin, “
you
might have to throw your
weight around.” Then she shifted slowly, indicating her intent to
move while proclaiming as if she was bestowing a great honour,
“Now, you may escort me to
our
seats.”

“Lead the way,” Colin murmured
politely but stopped and turned when Sibyl’s hand landed lightly on
his arm and then she went up on her toes to touch her lips against
his.

“I’ll see you after,” she
whispered, he nodded and then allowed himself to be led away by the
older woman as Sibyl disappeared between the sliding doors.

“Watching them, you almost feel
like a voyeur and she’d barely kissed him,” Marian heard Bertie
mutter to himself.

Marian didn’t respond for
at that instant she felt an ice-cold thrill go down her spine and
her head shot up.

“No,” she whispered, not
wishing to believe it.

“What’s that?” Bertie asked, he
had taken her by the elbow and was showing her to a seat.

She gently pulled her arm away,
hid her concern and smiled at Sibyl’s father. “I need to see to
something. I’ll only be away a moment.”

Bertie misinterpreted her
meaning and inclined his head politely. “I’ll save you a seat.”

She nodded to him then scanned
the crowd as they all began to settle into their chairs.

She felt nothing.

She moved to stand at the back,
carefully considering each person as her eyes touched the backs of
their heads.

More nothing.

She felt the hairs go up on the
back of her neck and she whirled, seeing the dark material swirl
about the corner of the doors to the Hall and disappear
outside.

On her guard and chanting a
swift spell under her breath, she followed.

There was no sight of anyone as
she looked this way and that in the now deserted front of the
Community Centre.

She thought perhaps she was
being silly. The golden aura was dim, yes, Colin had not yet
realised his true feelings for Sibyl. But Sibyl’s were more than
strong enough to protect the pair. She radiated her love for him,
true and pure. And Marian was aware enough of their generation (and
Colin’s reputation) to know, without a doubt, that this love had
been consummated.

However, for good measure, she
decided to put a protection spell on the Hall. She wasn’t going to
be caught unawares this time.

She carefully closed the double
doors, turned her back to them and walked two steps into the lobby.
Then she opened her mouth to start her chant and cast her spell.
But before she uttered a noise, a dark figure spirited out of the
cloak room to her left.

With a blinding flash of
excruciating light, Marian crumpled to the ground.

Then the darkly clad form
dragged her limp body, unnoticed, out into the night.

* * * * *

Colin was surprised at how good
the Talent Show was, definitely worth the meagre price of
admission. It was lovingly, if cheaply, produced and obvious that
each child had received a good deal of kindly direction.

Sibyl’s “girls” did not win,
but came in second place to a young lady who recited a poem so
precociously, with her talent and a great deal of luck to get out
of her dire surroundings, Colin could see her in the West End.

Throughout the performance,
keenly tuned to her, he saw Sibyl slide in and out of the Hall. She
would tiptoe in to talk to the DJ or stand at the side and gesture
to the man who trained the spotlight from the loft in the back. But
when her girls performed, Colin noticed she stood to the very edge
of the back of the audience and, hilariously, did the entire dance
right along with the girls and then hooted and cheered the loudest
when they were done.

When the lights came up after
the prizes were awarded, people milled about and Mrs. Griffith
announced her intention to go to Sibyl’s office and call herself a
taxi.

“I’ll take you home,” he
informed her as she started to move away.

She turned and, for the first
time, awarded him a non-cantankerous smile. Then, with a gentle
tone he didn’t know she had in her, she said, “You get Sibyl home,
luv, she’s worked hard tonight and is likely dead on her feet.”

Then she patted his forearm
affectionately and shuffled away.

The Godwins were all engrossed
in conversations with a variety of people and Colin gave himself
time to watch Sibyl in her element.

Although she didn’t live in
this community, she was obviously a part of it and loved her place
just as those around her loved her in it. She knew everyone, not
just her “oldies” and the children, but everyone.

Colin himself had been warmly
welcomed, it became clear after moments of entering his “anonymous”
donation was no longer anonymous and his other gestures had been
gratefully received. He was not, however, accepted by these proud
people, and his class and station meant he would likely never be.
Nevertheless, most were courteous and very kind. The ones closest
to Sibyl, however, including Kyle, his wife Tina and their daughter
Jemma, were completely accepting of him because of their closeness
with Sibyl.

“Do you know where Marian
went?” Bertie asked, approaching Colin but looking around the Hall.
“She was acting a bit strange and then went to the loos before the
performance but never returned. I kept a seat for her the entire
time but she didn’t use it and looked for her at intermission but
couldn’t locate her. Now, I still can’t find her.”

Colin helped Bertie scan the
crowd, concerned about Marian’s disappearance but also impatient
and wanting to get to Sibyl, who was now surrounded by her four
girls, all of them jumping around her excitedly.

“I don’t see her,” Colin
informed Sibyl’s father, “Perhaps she felt unwell and went
home.”

“Perhaps,” Bertie didn’t sound
convinced.

“Does anyone have her mobile
number?” Colin asked.

Bertie shook his head. “I
don’t know. I’ll ask Mags and get her to look in the toilets for
her.” Bertie muttered distractedly and wandered away.

By the time Colin reached
Sibyl, it looked like some of the girls’ parents were also standing
around them.

“Can we keep the outfits?” the
girl named Katie asked, her eyes shining up at Sibyl.

“Of course, they’re yours,”
Sibyl replied with a sweet smile and the girls shrieked their
delight with such ferocity, Colin winced and feared the glass in
the windows would shatter.

“Really, we couldn’t –” one of
the men was saying and Sibyl turned laughing eyes to him,
effectively cutting him off.

“I can hardly wear them, Phil,”
she responded with a teasing tone to which it would have been
impossible to take affront.

“Hey, Mr. Morgan,” Katie
called, upon noting his arrival.

“Hey, Mr. Morgan,” Emma
echoed.

“Hey, Mr. Morgan,” Cheryl, not
to be outdone, repeated.

“Girls,” Colin greeted them and
this caused another series of shrieks and giggles as Colin finally
made it to Sibyl’s side. He dared not kiss her (which he very much
wanted to do); the girls’ high-pitched screeches might be the final
death blow to the rundown building and bring the roof crashing down
on their heads.

Sibyl introduced Colin to the
girls’ parents and, after a brief conversation; they all peeled off
toward home, taking their loud daughters with them. Except one, who
stood alone, no parent behind her. She looked acutely uncomfortable
and was trying to put her eyes anywhere but on Colin or Sibyl.

“I’m going to go home now, Miss
Sibyl, I’ll see you next week,” she muttered and started away.

“Wait a second Flower, where’s
your mother?” Sibyl put a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder to
keep her where she was.

“She’s out tonight. My brothers
are with Nan. I was supposed to be there too but I talked Nan into
letting me come tonight.”

“But tonight’s the Talent Show…
your mother –” Sibyl started.

“She forgot,” Flower quickly
explained with a deftness borne of practice.

“But, how did you get here?”
Sibyl asked.

“I walked,” Flower answered

“By yourself?” Sibyl enquired,
the last syllable higher than the others, a tone that showed her
irritation.

Flower nodded.

Colin regarded the young,
awkward, but pretty, girl. He hid his reaction to her words and the
thought of any parent or grandparent not only not remembering a
Talent Show but not being there to witness it.

Sibyl, however, did not hide
her reaction. Her lips thinned, she turned angry eyes to Colin and
he saw the warning light of emerald fire.

“Sibyl,” he murmured as
Scarlett approached.

Sibyl whirled back to Flower.
“Where are you staying tonight?”

“With Nan.”

“Go and get your things, honey.
Mr. Morgan and my sister, her name’s Scarlett, are going to drive
you home. Once you’re inside, I want you to go to the window and
wave to them that everything is okay. You must remember to go to
the window and wave because he’s going to be waiting. Can you
remember to do that?”

Flower looked uncertainly
between Sibyl, Colin and Scarlett and nodded her head slowly,
clearly not used to anyone taking care of her.

“Good, honey, now go and get
your things,” Sibyl urged gently.

The minute the girl ran
off, Sibyl turned to Colin and belatedly asked, “Do you
mind?”

Her tone, her face, the way she
held her body indicated her barely contained fury.

He did the only thing he could
do in the face of her oncoming wrath, he shook his head.

Then, letting some of her anger
seep through, she snapped, “What would you say if I told you I was
adopting that girl?”

“I’d give you the name and
telephone number for one of the solicitors I have on retainer,”
Colin drawled.

Sibyl’s eyes rounded in
disbelief then, scant seconds later, they melted with something
else entirely. He took note, for future reference, that his comment
made the rage slide out of her.

“She has three brothers,” Sibyl
said quietly.

“You’ll need a bigger house,”
he informed her drily.


Luckily, Colin, you have
a
huge
house,” Scarlett put in, always of assistance.

Scarlett was saved from the
edge of Sibyl’s tongue by Flower’s arrival.

“Let’s go, kiddo,” Scarlett
said, deftly affecting her escape by propelling the girl
forward.

Colin took his chance to give
Sibyl a quick kiss, “I’ll be back to take you home.”

She nodded, still lost in her
thoughts for Flower. “I can’t wait to sit down, I’ve been on my
feet for hours. They’re killing me. Are we going to Lacybourne?”
she asked distractedly.

“Is that where you want to
go?”

She nodded.

“Then that’s where we’re
going.”

She gave him a weak smile of
gratitude and walked toward her friend Jemma.

Colin walked to a waiting
Scarlett and Flower then he escorted them to his car.

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