Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(105)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Colin nodded then found himself saying, “The one I was with when I met Sibyl.”

She immediately returned, “The one who was there when you met Billie?”

He nodded again marking, for future reference, how much Sibyl told her mother.

“Oh dear,” Mags sighed. “Well,” she brightened, “at least we know who and why. Now you just need to stop her.” She paused and glanced out of the window and said distractedly but with such certainty Colin was momentarily stunned, “I have every faith.”

Colin watched as she settled back into her seat contentedly.

Half an hour later, he pulled into Lacybourne only to see his mother’s blue Audi.

“What in bloody hell?” he muttered under his breath.

The change in speed coming off the motorway and manoeuvring of roundabouts had caused Sibyl to awaken but all the while, she kept a still sleepy silence.

Now she spoke.

“Who’s that?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep.

“My mother,” Colin answered impatiently.

“What’s she doing here?” The sweet sound of sleep was quickly leaving her voice and suspicion was edging in.

“I, um, might have called her,” Mags said hesitantly from the back.

Colin again swore under his breath.

Sibyl’s head snapped around to scowl at her mother.

“Why on the goddess’s green earth would you do a fool thing like that?” she cried, her sleepy voice a distant memory.

Colin parked in the garage as mother and daughter squared off.

“Colin was shot with a tranquilliser dart!” Mags defended herself. “She’s his mother. I thought she had the right to know!”

“Don’t you think Colin should be the judge of that?” Sibyl returned angrily and if she hadn’t been so adorably peeved on his behalf, he might have kissed her for defending him.

Before Sibyl’s temper could explode in a car that was much too small for the force of it, Colin broke in, “It’s done. There’s no sense arguing about it now.”

Colin felt a bit more of Bertie’s lifetime of pain when both pairs of angry eyes moved to him and both women’s mouths opened to blast him with their wrath when he smoothly continued, “If anyone has the right to be upset it’s me and I’m not so that’s the end of it.”

Both mouths snapped shut and Mags’s face instantly settled happily while Sibyl’s suffused with mutiny.

“We’ll talk about this later,” she warned her mother as she alighted from the car.

“Okay,” Mags agreed, unaffected by the threat and walked to the house.

Colin surreptitiously glanced down the lane, didn’t see any sign of Tamara or her car and he put his hand in the back pocket of his jeans to grab his mobile.

Sibyl stopped, waiting for him to walk to the house with her.

“Go in, sweetheart, I need to make a call,” he directed her gently. “Tell Mum I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

She looked at him closely then turned and, with no small amount of absorption, he watched her generous h*ps sway as she walked to the house.

Then he called Robert Fitzwilliam.

“Look into Tamara Adams. She’s been following us the entire day, all the way to Heathrow and back,” Colin ordered.

“Got it. You still need Rick tomorrow?” Robert asked about the bodyguard Colin had engaged to watch Sibyl and now her mother and, much more recently, his mother.

“Yes,” Colin answered.

“Fine, he’ll be at your house at seven.”

Colin flipped his mobile shut, not looking forward to the upcoming conversation with Sibyl about her future bodyguard.

With resignation, Colin went in to greet his mother.

* * * * *

Sibyl sat next to Colin in Mrs. Byrne’s magic room.

Across from them, Mrs. Byrne, who was still not her usual, vital self, was moving around carefully as if her body was a fragile thing. Still, she was muttering chants as she clinked and clacked amongst a plethora of vials, shakers, mortars and pestles, and other extraordinary flotsam and jetsam of witch paraphernalia she kept in her magic room. A room, done up in plums and roses, tassels and velvets, shelves and spindly tables carrying strange and fascinating objects, it looked like a set right out of a movie.

Phoebe, who had come into the story late and was still processing it, sat silently across the room, staring stupefied at Marian’s activity.

Angie, Mrs. Byrne’s daughter, was assisting her mother as if they did this kind of thing every day.

Mags was sitting next to Phoebe barely able to hold herself still, alight with glee.

Sibyl slid a cautious glance toward Colin who was not happy at all. He was obviously dubious and it was just as obvious he wished to be somewhere else. He was sitting with one ankle casually resting on his other knee, slouched arrogantly and one of his arms was lying across the back of Sibyl’s chair.

Regardless of his nonchalant position, he seemed wired, ready to pounce.

Since returning from Heathrow, Sibyl noticed that something had changed in him. He seemed impatient and energetic, like a big cat prowling back and forth in front of its cage in a zoo, desperate to get out.

Sibyl thought, looking at him, that perhaps it hadn’t been wise to push this magical protection spell thing that afternoon. He hadn’t wanted to come and now that he was there, it was blindingly obvious he very much didn’t want to be.

However, Sibyl had a plan. In fact, she had two plans and she needed to talk to Marian about them because she needed the older woman’s help.

She’d been thinking about it in an effort not to think about her confession of love last night and the fact that it was not returned.

Sibyl believed this was all more than lucky coincidence. That it all fit together. That there was magic and mayhem in the air and Sibyl had to find a way to stop it.

As crazy as it all seemed, Sibyl believed Mrs. Byrne.

Colin could hire dozens of private investigators if he wanted to but Sibyl was going to investigate the magical side.

“Now!” Mrs. Byrne announced happily, turning toward Sibyl and Colin and taking Sibyl from her thoughts. Phoebe jumped nervously as Mags leaned forward in excitement. “I started this weeks ago, so it’s been fermenting nicely,” Mrs. Byrne explained. “I’ve added a few of my own, personal touches and left it to marinade this morning. It should do the trick.”

She sounded like she was talking about a recipe for chicken.

“She’s very good,” Angie stated proudly, her eyes on her mother.