She heard noises coming from other areas the house. Their friends and family were all trying to be quiet but their tasks of tidying up and leaving and cleaning a pool of dog blood would not allow them to shield their noise from Colin and Sibyl.
Listening to the noise, Sibyl’s face was frozen in a constant wince.
Colin took one look at her and walked to the door to close it but the unknown man filled its frame.
“The police are here,” he told Colin, glanced at Sibyl, tried (and failed) to smile at her reassuringly and then looked back at Colin.
“I pressed the panic button,” Colin told him then sighed. “Can you deal with them?” His hand went to his hair and he pulled his fingers through it in a frustrated gesture.
“Of course,” the man assured then left and Colin closed the door behind him.
“Who is that man?” Sibyl asked as Colin walked to the drinks cabinet.
“A security specialist and an investigator, he and his team have been watching over you for weeks. They’ve also been trying to discover who was behind all this.”
Sibyl nodded, allowing the pleasant thought that Colin had hired a team to protect her to penetrate the numbness that had enveloped her.
He poured two drinks and brought them both to the couch. He handed her one and she automatically took it. He settled down beside her, stretching his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and wrapping his arm around her shoulder before he pulled her into him and she rested her head in the curve of his neck.
“What’s this?” she asked, lifting the tumbler filled with a fluid that matched his eyes.
“Whisky. Drink it,” he ordered.
She sighed. “You are so bossy,” she told him, her voice weary but filled with affection.
As an answer, his hand went to her hair and lifted its heavy weight.
She sipped her drink and felt the pleasant warmth slide down her throat and into her belly.
“Are we safe now?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he answered so definitively she believed him and she finally felt the tenseness flow from her body. “Until you get us into another disaster by taking Parliament to task for their defence spending and becoming public enemy number one,” he noted in a mock-beleaguered tone.
Despite all that had happened, she felt a giggle rise up her throat and let it loose as she looked up at his handsome face.
“I love you,” she told him, her voice strong with emotion, tears coming back to her eyes.
He looked down on her and his face shifted and she would understand that shift when he vowed in a low, even, fierce tone, “After tonight, I swear to God, you’re never going to have a reason to cry or be frightened again.”
“I’ll take it from that comment that you love me back.” She grinned shakily at him.
He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers.
Then he said softly against her mouth, “Yes, darling, I love you back.”
This feeling shined in his eyes and he looked at her as if she was the sun and the moon, as if the world revolved around her, as if she was his entire universe.
She settled against him again, far more contentedly, and they sat there for some time before she whispered so quietly, her words barely made a noise, “Mallory was a good dog.”
“Mallory was a walking, barking calamity,” Colin returned but the fondness in his tone caused Sibyl no distress. “There will never be another Mallory,” he finished gently.
She nodded her head against his shoulder in agreement and infinite sadness.
There came a soft knock on the door and Colin called his permission for entry.
Mags, Marian and Phoebe walked in, their faces carrying identical expressions of concern.
Marian was also carrying a book.
“It’s all sorted, darling,” Phoebe murmured, her eyes avoiding Sibyl’s and looking directly at Colin.
She felt rather than saw him lift his chin to acknowledge his mother’s words.
“Everyone’s away. They all say their good-byes and they’ll talk to you later, Sibyl,” Marian informed her.
Sibyl smiled weakly at her friend.
Mags came to her daughter and sat heavily down beside her, making both Colin and Sibyl’s bodies lift momentarily.
“What a night,” she noted in an understatement and then her body slid sideways, leaning against Sibyl with her head on Sibyl’s shoulder.
“You okay Mom?” Sibyl asked, handing her glass with a grateful look to Phoebe as she put her arm around Mags just as Colin had his arm around her.
“If you’re okay, I’m okay,” Mags replied then went on. “I don’t think I’m going to tell Bertie about this though. He’ll have a coronary.”
“Good idea,” Phoebe agreed. “I’m not telling Mike either or Claire and Tony for that matter. Tony wouldn’t begin to believe me but Claire will be furious she missed it.” She walked to the drinks cabinet, asking for the other women’s orders.
They all settled into chairs, Mags coming upright as Phoebe gave her a drink. Colin handed Sibyl his and ordered her to finish it. Not having enough strength to defy him, she did as she was told.
Sibyl sat with her family and friend, stroked her cat and sipped her whisky. They all seemed content to be together but alone with their thoughts.
After awhile, Colin broke the silence and called, “Marian.”
The older woman started. “Yes, Colin, dear?”
Sibyl peered up at his gorgeous face, wondering at his thoughts and saw his jaw clench and that familiar muscle dance there.
Then he enquired, “What happened tonight?”
Sibyl wanted to smile but she bit it back. He didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to know. But he clearly couldn’t stop himself.
Marian watched them both carefully and then took a sip from her gin. Finally, she spoke.
“I don’t exactly know.” She put her drink down on a table beside her and opened the book, sifting through the pages. “I think…” she started to say and then stopped, finding her place. She scanned, her eyes racing left to right then back again, over and over. Finally, a smile tugged at her lips. “It appears that the legend has changed somewhat.”
“How’s that?” Mags asked, her body coming to attention.
Sibyl lifted her head and stared.
“Well…” Marian continued to read while she spoke. “Apparently, there was a vicious plot to kill the mighty warrior, Royce Morgan and his new bride Beatrice on their wedding night. A plot conceived by a trusted member of the household. This, Royce foiled because, well… he was a mighty warrior.” Her eyes lifted and she looked at Colin then back down to her book.
Sibyl gasped before she asked, “They didn’t die?”
Marian shook her head.
At the news, a burst of energy flowed throw Sibyl, she surged off the couch and Bran flew off her lap with an angry mew. Sibyl, unable to contain her delight, did a happy jig and sang, “Hallelujah!”
Everyone, including Colin, watched her with a grin on their face.
Sibyl stopped just as abruptly and turned back to Marian. “What happened?”
Marian looked down at the book. “Let me see. Well, this writer is far more into history, the facts, as it were. It says Royce foiled the plot as he was a seasoned warrior and could easily fend off his five attackers. The author does hint that there was a great deal of talk that lasted through the centuries about magic and…” she narrowed her eyes on some words, “it says here, some old woman from the village, a friend of both the Morgans and Godwins, was riding home from their wedding feast, came upon the struggle and dashed in, dispatching one of the villains with her cane.”
A burst of laughter erupted from Sibyl before she cried with glee, “What?”
“That’s what it says here,” Marian tapped the book, her lips forming a smile.