Lacybourne Manor (24 page)

And with those thoughts firmly
(kind of) planted in her brain, she whispered against his skin, “I
need to take Mallory for his morning walk.”

Then she shoved away from him
and started to leave the bed but he caught her forearm.

Half in, half out of bed, Sibyl
looked back at him.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he told
her, his grin gone, he was watching her and she felt as if he could
see passed everything, straight to her heart.

“Same time?” she asked and the
words made her feel wrong. They made her feel like what she was to
him, a word she was not allowed to say but she should never allow
herself to forget.

“Yes,” he replied.

She nodded and with a rough
movement jerked her arm away. She had to get away from him, now.
She could get lost in him, she knew, especially when he turned into
sweet, teasing Colin. When he was like that, Sibyl could start
pretending that this was more than it was and she mustn’t ever do
that.

Ever.

She snatched her robe off the
hook on the back of the door, shrugged it on, grabbed some clothes
and ran out of the room.

She dressed in the
bathroom.

Then, with effort, throughout
her errand of the morning, she kept her mind carefully blank.

After she arrived back from
Mallory’s walk, Colin was gone.

Reprieve

“I’m dreaming about him.”

It was the next Monday morning
and Marian was having her breakfast with Sibyl.

Marian was also realising that
Sibyl clearly needed a confidant.

“Yes, my dear?” Marian
prompted. “Who?”

Sibyl looked distracted, the
streak of fine weather had broken and the day was grey, rainy and
cold and Sibyl was gazing moodily out of the diamond-paned windows.
They were eating in a small breakfast nook in Sibyl’s warm and cosy
yet elaborate kitchen. Marian had visited Granny Esmeralda’s
abandoned cottage many times when the last owners left it
unoccupied for years but she had not been there since the unknown
(now known) Americans had bought it and refurbished it as a holiday
home.

She’d been delighted when Sibyl
suggested they not meet at a café but instead asked Marian to come
to her house and Sibyl would cook for her. She’d been captivated by
the loving renovation that Sibyl explained she and her father had
done to Granny Esmeralda’s sweet cottage. It felt welcoming and
warm and Marian was immediately relaxed and at peace there.

And her young friend was an
excellent cook, making Marian homemade American pancakes with maple
syrup and big bowls of bite-sized pieces of ripe, delicious
fruit.

Now, food consumed, Sibyl was
on her second cup of coffee and Marian was finishing a pot of
tea.

“He’s away in London for three
days,” she changed the subject, or at least Marian thought she
did.

“Who?” Marian asked again,
thinking she knew who but uncertain.

Sibyl started and seemed to
come back to the room. She blinked at Marian and gave her a feeble
smile.

“I’m sorry. It’s Colin. You
should know Colin and I are together now,” Sibyl hesitated, then
finished. “Well, sort of.”

Marian smiled encouragingly. “I
guessed that when I saw you two the other night but, how do you
mean, ‘sort of’?”

Sibyl shook her head and gently
changed the subject. “And I’m dreaming about him, all the time,
nearly every night. Except he’s blond and he’s…” She paused then
stated, “This is going to sound stupid.”

But at her words, Marian’s
heart skipped a joyous beat.

What did she mean, he was
blond? Was she dreaming of Royce?

Dear goddess, was Sibyl Godwin
clairvoyant?

“
Go on, nothing’s stupid.
You can tell me anything,” Marian urged, her voice betraying her
excitement (she couldn’t help it, it
was
exciting).

Sibyl shuddered and then
forged ahead. “It’s like he’s from another time. I’m there too,
always. We’re wearing old clothes… not old as in age, a different
style, clothes from a different time period, a long, long time ago.
But the dreams are so vivid, so clear they almost seem real.” Sibyl
turned to Marian. “Marian, I know you’re going to think this sounds
a million kinds of crazy, but they don’t seem like dreams at all,”
she leaned forward, her eyes intense but confused, “they seem
like
memories
.”

Marian’s mouth parted in
surprise.

She
was
a
clairvoyant.

Hallelujah!

Sibyl, clearly oblivious to
Marian’s elation, kept speaking.

“He makes me call him Royce in
the dreams and he refers to me as Beatrice. And I get this very bad
feeling that although they’re beautiful together, their story is
not a happy one. I know that sounds even more stupid, considering
they’re only in my mind, but I just get this sense, you know? Just
like Colin and I will not end well.”

Marian closed her eyes to hide
her joy, her heart skittered again and, when she opened them, she
smiled reassuringly at the younger woman.

“You’re falling in love with
Colin, aren’t you?” she said sagely.

“No!” Sibyl exclaimed instantly
and strangely somewhat desperately.

Her forceful cry made Marian
rear back.

Sibyl, being the sweet girl she
was, noticed Marian’s reaction and immediately apologised. “I’m
sorry Marian, but no, I’m not falling in love with Colin. I can’t,”
she announced firmly.

This
was not good news, nor was it what Marian
expected to hear.

“Why on earth can’t you?”
Marian’s voice had just the slightest edge and it, too, was
desperate.

“He’s not the one. I’m supposed
to…” She stopped talking, closed her eyes tight, and, when she
opened them, she continued, “All my life I knew there was one
perfect man out there for me. A man like Royce is to Beatrice. My
match. I have a space in my heart that only this person fits into.”
She bit her lip, her expression pained before she finished, “And
it’s not Colin.”

Marian’s heart felt light at
this news. It was all too right.

“How do you know it’s not
Colin?” Marian asked, trying to appear calm.

“Trust me,” Sibyl answered, her
voice sounding awful, “I know.”

Marian’s mind whirled with what
to say.

This was all perfect, dreaming
of the doomed lovers (without even knowing they existed!), living
her life yearning for the special man that fits in her heart. It
was perfect, beautiful, sublime.

Marian wished she could
tell Sibyl about the legend, she
itched
to tell her. But she’d
promised Colin. She had a tentative hold on his trust already; she
certainly shouldn’t fall at the first hurdle. Marian could see in
her crystal ball that things were still not quite right with the
pair. Although, she could never hear the words they said, there was
just something wrong.

Marian believed, though, that
true love would find a way.

It did with Royce and Beatrice,
even though, at their beginning, they’d had a time of it.

Just, it seemed, like Sibyl and
Colin were.

“Do you want to tell me about
it?” Marian invited in a soothing tone.

Sibyl shook her head. “I
don’t want to talk about it. He’s gone for three days and I’m
glad.” Marian noted she didn’t sound glad, she sounded positively
gloomy. “I can’t seem to get my head around things when he’s
around. He’s overpowering. He fills a room… no, the entire
house
,
with his presence. He didn’t let me out of his sight all
weekend.”

Marian thought this was a
strange turn of phrase for a young woman of this modern age to use
the word “let” in regards to her boyfriend. Sibyl was spirited and
she had free will, Colin Morgan didn’t own her.

“You feel suffocated,” Marian
surmised.

“
I feel safe, protected
and taken care of, sometimes even precious.” Marian was surprised
to hear her reply. “My mother would have a heart attack,” Sibyl
muttered under her breath then she continued. “He’s a perfect
gentleman, impeccable manners, very respectful, even, goddess, am I
going to say this?” She asked herself then said,
“
Gallant
.”

Then she dropped her face into
her hands and rested her elbows on the table with despair.

At Sibyl’s words and her
contradictory actions, Marian was genuinely confused. “Then, what’s
the problem?”

Sibyl spoke to the table,
“It’s temporary. I don’t
want
to like it. I know he’s
going to go away.”

“He doesn’t have to go
away.”

“Oh yes he does.” This was said
with a finality that was absolute and completely conflicting.

Although Sibyl was making no
sense, Marian felt her spirits plummet.

“Are there times when he’s
cruel to you?” Marian asked gently.

Colin Morgan was, Marian knew,
a somewhat difficult man.

This, for some reason, made
Sibyl laugh, bitterly. A sound like that coming from a woman like
Sibyl grated on the nerves, it was borderline obscene.

She lifted her head and her
expression looked defeated. “Every second he’s with me, even though
it’s unintentional. He doesn’t mean it, doesn’t even know it, I
just feel it. And I did it to myself.”

This
really
didn’t make any
sense.

“Sibyl, just tell me what’s
troubling you. Maybe I can help,” Marian urged.

Sibyl stared at her for a
moment and Marian felt hope that she would further confide in her.
She had promised Colin not to tell Sibyl about Royce and Beatrice
but she
could
help here.

Then Sibyl gave her a sad smile
and said, “I don’t think you’d understand and if I told you, you
would likely not want to have breakfast with me again.”

Marian covered the
woman’s hand with her own. “I’m not sure
you
understand either, dear.
And nothing you could tell me would make me feel the slightest bit
different about you. I think you’re terrific”

Finally, Marian made Sibyl
smile. It was not her usual dazzling smile, it was tremulous, but
it was something.

“I think you’re terrific too,”
Sibyl whispered but shared no more.

Some time later, after
Marian left Sibyl’s cottage (it was now, firmly entrenched in
Marian’s mind, as
Sibyl’s
cottage and she felt sure
that Granny Esmeralda would approve of that), she went to her magic
room to check her fermenting potions. Several of them she was
likely going to have to use after all.

The only good thing that came
of her visit with Sibyl was that obviously the girl had magic of
her own. This could be most helpful. The fact that she was feeling
memories from her past soul was a good sign.

And Marian still held hope that
the feeling behind most of Sibyl’s words (even though the words
themselves were rather dire) meant that whatever I -was that was
standing between the two young lovers was an obstacle that could
still be climbed.

* * * * *

“
We go
together like ramma, lamma, lamma, da dingity, ding dee
dong.
”

Sibyl was sitting in the
Community Hall with Jem watching her girlie quartet sing a song
from
Grease
while Jemma sewed a poodle onto a child’s full,
felt skirt.

“The choreography is fantastic,
Jem,” Sibyl whispered as we watched. The girls, it seemed, were
having a blast and they looked great.

“
What?” Annie shouted,
sitting beside
her.
“What’s happening
now?”

“They’re dancing and singing,
Annie,” Sibyl raised her voice so Annie could hear her.

Kyle and Tina, Sibyl, Jemma and
a couple of the other volunteers had a rota to go once a week to
tidy Annie’s house, fill her fridge and spend some time with her.
That afternoon was Jemma’s afternoon but it was also Talent Show
practice. Annie decided to wait it out, far better sitting in the
Hall with kids rushing around and music blaring than sit at home in
virtual silence and complete blindness.

“Wearing poodle skirts!” Annie
shouted and Sibyl smiled.

“Black ones, with white poodles
that have pink bows,” Jemma yelled.

“I used to have one of those,”
Annie informed them of something that might, or might not (as Annie
told tales) be true and neither Sibyl nor Jem responded.

“
Chang,
chang, changity chang cha bop…
” the girls
sang as Annie, Jemma and Sibyl lapsed into silence and Sibyl lapsed
into reflection.

Colin’s three day trip turned
into a five day trip. He’d called and told her he wouldn’t be home
until, at least, Friday.

Today.

She found she missed him, even
though she knew that was wrong so she tried not to think about it…
and failed.

The good thing was that he
couldn’t claim back this time and she desperately needed it to get
her head straight.

Her time with him had been
good, sometimes (she hated to admit it, but it was true) wonderful,
and always she’d forget who she was to him.

Then he’d do something
unintentional to remind her.

Mostly, he would order her
about which, she thought, considering the frequency he did it,
could be a part of his nature but she wasn’t in the place to test
it.

For instance, once, after a
long day in her Summer House Girlie Laboratory, she had put her
hair up to get its heavy weight off her scalp. She’d forgotten it
was up when she walked into the front room from the kitchen after
he’d used his key to enter the front door. Mallory was all over him
but the minute he turned his attention to her, his eyes shifted to
her hair. He didn’t say a word but she lifted her hands up to tear
the clip out immediately.