Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(98)

Notions were coming to her fast and sharp.

He drove an expensive Mercedes.

He wore tailored suits to work, suits that, after years of living with Scarlett, Sibyl knew probably cost a month of her salary (if not more).

He hired someone to wait on the table at a dinner party at his house.

He could afford, in a day, seemingly without effort, to acquire a suitcase full of fifty thousand pounds worth of twenty pound notes.

And refurnish a room in a Community Centre days after he’d bought a new alarm system for her house.

The light finally dawned and she looked at Scarlett mainly because she was avoiding looking at Colin.

Then she breathed out the word, “Oh.”

She could imagine every woman he met took one look at him, his clothes, his house, his car and saw nothing but his bank account. The fact that he was magnificently handsome, protective, intelligent and could be gentle and even tender was just a bonus. A very nice bonus, but a bonus all the same.

She couldn’t leave it at that, she had to know so she lifted her gaze to Colin. “You were testing me, weren’t you?”

She was referring to the fifty thousand pounds.

He knew what she was referring to and nodded.

Her heart sank.

“I failed, didn’t I?” she whispered but she knew. She’d not only failed, she’d done it spectacularly.

“Sibyl.” His voice was quiet and there was something else there, something that might have been easier to decipher if they didn’t have an avidly watching audience, but, before he could say more, another knock came at the open door and Mrs. Byrne was standing in it.

“Am I interrupting?” Marian asked.

“No,” Scarlett offered as an answer.

“For God’s sake,” Colin muttered under his breath.

“Sibyl, dear, I just wanted to be certain you weren’t angry with me,” Mrs. Byrne said, looking anxious and coming into the room.

“Oh, Mrs. Byrne, I was just in shock,” Sibyl answered, pulled from Colin’s arms, walked to the woman and gave her a fierce hug. “I’m not angry with you,” she reassured her.

“Perhaps we should have the cheese and coffee served in the bedroom?” Colin drawled.

“Great idea,” Scarlett agreed. “Do you have a bell pull up here so we can call the young, strapping Peter?”

Colin cut an acid look to Scarlett and Sibyl moved to stand between them in case he was driven to physical violence.

“I need you to know my part in all of this,” Mrs. Byrne told Sibyl, thankfully drawing her attention away from her sister.

“I want to hear this!” Claire cried and then threw herself on the bed, stretching out on her side, her head in her hand and she settled in excitedly.

Colin watched as Mrs. Byrne sat primly on the edge of the bed and then his eyes shifted to the ceiling as if praying for deliverance. Realising there was none, he walked toward the chair next to Scarlett, swiftly pivoted it around, leaned forward and hooked Sibyl (again) about the waist and settled into the chair. He pulled a surprised Sibyl onto his lap and when she squirmed he muttered impatiently, “Sit still.”

Sibyl watched as Scarlett took this all in, raised her eyebrows and grinned.

She ignored her sister and did as she was told. Colin was giving the impression of a caged lion who would undoubtedly attack given his first opportunity and she was the first in line of assault.

It was then Mrs. Byrne started talking.

Of witches.

And magic.

And horses named Mallory.

And ancient spells linking lovers for eternity and present day potions that brought old souls back to life in new bodies.

She went on and on about Granny Esmeralda Crane (whose old cottage Sibyl now inhabited), the results of the grisly murder she happened upon, Esmeralda’s Book of Shadows, Royce and Beatrice and how she, Marian Byrne, was here, after a long line of witches who’d waited in vain to bring together the new lovers and end a nearly five hundred year old curse of doomed, true love.

What she did not talk of was dark souls, this, unknown to Sibyl, Colin had demanded she keep to herself.

“So, you see, Sibyl, it was my destiny to bring you to Colin. As you’ve learned, he’s a bit, er… difficult, so I was trying to be clever. I was not so clever as I thought and it made things hard on you and for that, I apologise,” Marian finished with her hands held up in front of her in supplication.

Sibyl stared at her in astonishment. There was nothing else to do but stare… in… complete… astonishment.

Finally, she whispered, grasping onto the thing that least affected her sanity and she felt Colin’s arm tighten around her waist when she did so. “Royce’s horse was named Mallory?”

“Indeed, it was, my dear.” For some reason Marian was smiling at her and her next statement would explain why. “You see, in so many ways, you and Colin were meant for each other, one could even say born for each other. Do you take my meaning?”

Sibyl felt her sister’s eyes turn to her just as she experienced something raw and unexplainable rip at her heart.

And she immediately felt panic.

Sheer, unadulterated panic.

Because she might be getting what she’d always wanted, what she always knew was waiting for her and instead of being joyful, it scared the living daylights out of her.