Lacybourne Manor

  But it didn’t affect Colin. He pulled her to him with a strong arm and smiled down at her upturned face with a warmth so unguarded it nearly made him seem boyish.

  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 an
d 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.

  Scarlett slid in beside him after she made sure Flower was buckled in the back and they took her to her Nan’s, which was further away than he expected. Colin was pleased Sibyl wasn’t with them, if she knew the distance the girl had walked alone, she’d likely abduct the child and her brothers from their Nan’s house.

  After receiving their dutiful wave, on the way back to the Hall, Scarlett spoke, “She’s not of the earth, you know?”

  “I’m sorry?” Colin asked, surprised at her tone which was sedate and earnest. Since she shined the light of her approval on his union with her sister, Scarlett had been her usual drily humorous just not caustic. He’d never heard her serious before.

  Still, he had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Sibyl, she’s not of the earth but of the air. She’s like a kite, all her life, darting about in the wind with no one holding onto her string.”

  Colin remained silent, patiently waiting for further explanation.

  “You’re of the earth,” she carried on. “You have your feet firmly planted on the ground. She’s lucky to find someone like that, like you, willing to let her dart about happily in the wind but still keeping her tethered to the ground.”

  Colin couldn’t help but be moved by her compliment, especially coming from Scarlett, however, she wasn’t finished.

  Quietly, she said in a near whisper, “All my life, I thought she’d get swept away. Get herself helplessly tangled in some trees and be torn to shreds when someone yanked her free. It was terrifying.”

  “I can imagine,” Colin murmured and he could.

  “Please protect her, Colin.” It was now a whisper and even though he barely knew her, Colin knew how much it cost her to make this request.

  “I will.”

  “You must promise,” she pushed.

  He pulled up outside the front doors of the Community Centre, fixed the emergency brake, turned to Sibyl’s sister and promised, “I’ll protect her.”

  It was a vow and she knew it and for the first time of their acquaintance, she gave him one of her spectacular smiles.

  Then she whispered, “I believe you.”

  And without another word she turned to her door so Colin did the same.

  They walked, both lo
st in their own thoughts, into the Hall together where they saw volunteers were cleaning up, Sibyl’s mother and father helping to stack chairs against the walls.

  “Where’s Sibyl?” Colin asked Tina who was tidying the small kitchen to the side.

  “She went to her office to get her handbag,” Tina responded. “I’m doing cuppas for everyone. Would you two like one?” Her kind gaze drifted from Colin to Scarlett.

  “I’d love one and I’ll help,” Scarlett replied but Colin moved toward Sibyl’s office just as a young boy came flying into the Hall and slid to a halt beside Jemma.

  “Mum, there’s an old lady lying out back in the grass. She isn’t moving.” His words were rushed with panic and his brown eyes were filled with fear.

  Colin froze and caught Bertie’s frightened eye.

  Bertie made a dash out the front door.

  Colin went in the opposite direction, to Sibyl’s office.

  He threw back the sliding doors and immediately heard the muffled noises coming from behind the office’s closed door. He ran to the room, threw open the door and was momentarily stunned motionless by what he saw.

  A black-clad figure wearing a ski mask was holding a struggling Sibyl in the corner of the room, one arm gripping her about the waist, one hand held over her mouth.

  Another figure wearing the same outfit was being pounded violently by the end of Mrs. Griffith’s cane, each blow causing an angry, pained grunt to come out of him.

  “Let her go, I tell you!” Mrs. Griffith shouted.

  Colin jerked out of his shock and exploded into the room, wresting the cane out of Mrs. Griffith’s hand and swinging it with far more force on the cowering figure. With furious pleasure, he heard it connect with a hideous noise of cracking bone at the same time the cane split in half and a stifled howl came from his victim. Wasting no time, the figure shoved Mrs. Griffith aside and, holding his injured arm in his healthy one, he ran from the small office.

  Colin whirled on the other figure, raising the remains of the cane threateningly.

  The figure let go of Sibyl’s waist, his arm went around his back and Sibyl took her opportunity to break free. She took one step forward but was yanked back as the man grabbed her hair. She gave a startled, pained cry and Colin took two quick, menacing steps forward when the figure’s arm whipped back around and Colin saw the glint on the blade of a knife.