Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(144)

She threw open the door and startled a maid who was making the bed.

The maid’s eyes rounded in surprise and she stared.

“Miss Beatrice,” she breathed.

Sibyl didn’t know what to say. Goddess, she wished she’d listened to her father more closely. How did one talk medieval?

There was nothing for it, Sibyl would have to bluff it.

“Where’s your master?”

She must have said the right thing because the woman’s face melted knowingly. “He’s…” Her eyes dropped to Sibyl’s body. “But you’re not dressed.”

Sibyl looked down at herself knowing it was most likely not seemly that she was running around in her nightclothes but she didn’t care. Time was of the essence.

“I need to see, um… Sir Royce right away.”

She felt like an idiot but she didn’t care about that either. At any moment, she could wake up.

“But Miss Beatrice…”

“Where is he?” she cried desperately.

The woman jumped at her tone which was obviously something with which, coming from Beatrice, she was not familiar. Then she spoke. “He’s at his meal in the Hall.”

She said more but Sibyl didn’t hear her. She flew down the corridor like the very devil was at her heels and then bounded down the stairs. Finally, she skidded to a halt, seeing the used dishes on the table… but no Royce.

She stomped her foot.

“Blooming hell!” she said in more than mild exasperation.

“Beatrice?”

His deep, smooth, velvet voice came from her right and she whirled.

Royce, standing straight and beautiful in one of the two semi-circular windows, was watching her with obvious amusement. His hair shown gold and was breathtaking in the sun pouring in from the window and she wondered if her own looked like that when hit by the sun’s rays.

“Royce,” she whispered then she flew right to him and regardless of her relief at finding him, she stopped a foot away and exploded, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He grinned down at her. Without giving any sign he noticed she’d just yelled in his face, he lifted a hand and traced his finger softly down her jaw.

“I see, no matter that we will be wed this day, you are still not capable of a pleasing morning humour.

Her eyes widened and her brows shot up. “We’re getting married today?”

His grin immediately turned teasing. “You forgot?”

“No, yes… I…” she stammered and his grin broadened into a knowing smile.

“I should not be surprised you would forget, you forget many things, my Beatrice, but our wedding day? You wound me,” he joked, taking his finger from her jaw to put his hand to his heart in mock injury.

This was just too weird and he was being too sweet. But Sibyl didn’t have time to process Royce’s effective teasing, she had things to say, things to do so she charged on. “We don’t have time for this, we have to…”

But she stopped speaking when he leaned forward unexpectedly and reached around her then she felt a soft, deft yank at the back of her head.

“I do not like this,” he muttered, his hand coming back around and he held a pale blue ribbon in front of her face. He dropped it and she had to swiftly throw up her hands to catch it as his reached back around and she felt him uncoiling her braid.

Good goddess, just like Colin.

Her knees went weak.

“Royce,” she whispered.

His eyes, which were looking over her shoulder, moved to hers and at the look in them she felt herself holding her breath. “Beatrice?”

She didn’t know what to do, what to say. Would he remember her from the future?

She couldn’t count on that.

She had to pretend to be Beatrice.

And she had to work fast.

As he arranged her heavy hair around her shoulders, he murmured, “Better,” as if to himself.

“We have to go upstairs,” she whispered because his eyes had warmed and she definitely knew what that meant and she thought it best to press her advantage while she had one.

His grin turned wicked but his hand dropped and took hers, lifting it to his mouth, he pressed a kiss against her fingers. And through this, never once did his eyes leave hers.

“You are very impatient, my sweet,” he murmured. “We can wait; it will only be a few…”

“No!” she cried. “We have to go now, upstairs, you and me, now. There isn’t much time.”

And she suddenly felt like bursting into tears. She had to make him go upstairs, she had to – she gulped – she had to cheat (essentially) on Colin in order to save Royce and Beatrice. Or, she hoped, get the ball rolling then wake up in her time and in this time Beatrice could take over. And hopefully Beatrice wouldn’t come back from wherever she went when Sibyl was in her body and not be too freaked out.

She didn’t care if it messed with time (although she really didn’t want Japan to fall into the sea). She felt, believed to the bottom of her heart, that she and Colin would find each other, even if she did save Beatrice and Royce.

And she was going to do it, if there was time.

She’d forgotten that Royce was a seasoned warrior and he knew the kind of fear he saw in her eyes. Therefore the warmth went out of his, his body stiffened and he stared at her with concern.