Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(24)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Sibyl was inordinately pleased his tone held no anger or even the slightest hint of it (not to mention the fact that he wasn’t “unduly” damaging the ozone layer).

“That was rude. I apologise. My mother is an environmental activist and sometimes it spills over, but, um… that said, I agree with Mom that we should all do our bit.”

He didn’t respond and she tried not to look at him but instead felt the lovely, smooth nearly soundless ride of his “high performance vehicle”. She’d never ridden in a Mercedes (all her cars, and her family’s, were jalopies that they rode into the ground before buying other, used, jalopies) and she had to admit (even though she would never tell Mags), she enjoyed it.

Colin deftly negotiated the difficult Bristol roads and entered the A38 at Cumberland Basin and Sibyl stared at the beautifully lit Clifton Suspension Bridge as they passed by.

“Why him?” Colin’s voice came at her suddenly and she jumped. Even the short drive in his smooth car had lulled her into a strange relaxation.

“Sorry?”

“The medic.”

She sighed as she understood his question. It was none of his business. Furthermore, they (especially Sibyl) were both forgetting that he had an unreasonable loathing of her and the last time they’d spent any time together he made sure she knew it (well, most of the time).

“He asked me,” was all she said and hoped he would let the matter drop.

“There is no way in hell a woman like you should be on the arm of a man like that,” Colin remarked with deep meaning and supreme finality.

He exited the A38 and headed around Long Ashton toward Clevedon.

She should have stayed silent. For sanity’s sake, she knew that. Rationally, logically and all good things that meant peace of mind, she understood that with certainty.

However, she didn’t stay silent.

“And what type of man should I be on the arm of, as you put it?”

“Me,” he answered boldly and she gasped, realising, without a doubt, she’d entered the Alternate Colin Morgan Universe.

He ignored her gasp. “If you were with me, you would not buy your own drinks. You would not be sent off to buy mine. I would most likely not let you out of my sight. We would definitely not be in a club. And you certainly would not, under any circumstances, leave with another man.”

Regardless of the edge of chauvinism that tainted his statements, something started fluttering in her stomach, something not entirely unpleasant, indeed, something alarmingly pleasant, and she did her utmost to ignore it.

“If you were an ass like Steve, then you wouldn’t have a choice.”

He didn’t reply which, in itself, was an eloquent statement.

Feeling the need to be safely out of Alternate but Somehow Entirely More Disarming Colin Morgan Universe, she reminded him, “However, the last time I saw you, you forced me to undress in front of you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Would you have done what you were told if I left?”

She felt her body jolt at his uncanny perception into her somewhat stubborn nature.

But unfortunately, everything she was would not allow her to lie.

“No,” she admitted and chanced a glance at him. She saw the flash of white from his teeth and she made a grumpy noise and looked out the window.

He chuckled.

She decided not to speak to him anymore.

He was not, however, finished speaking to her.

“You were freezing yourself to death, which was a fool thing to do, and you looked about as comfortable as if you were lying on a sacrificial slab.”

“I could hardly make myself comfortable when I was being held hostage!” she snapped, instantly forgetting her vow to stay silent.

“You weren’t being held hostage.”

“Could I leave?” she demanded.

“No,” he stated implacably.

She threw up her arms as if that settled her point. “You see! I was a hostage.”

This time, it was no chuckle but a quiet, amused laugh.

Therefore she stated crossly, “I fail to see how anything about that entire evening was funny. I just wanted to see your house. You confiscated my license and called the police to check on me.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Yes? And what were those?” she asked, her voice short and angry and she was glad, no thrilled of these reminders. Rescuer Colin was not nearly as easy to deal with as Lunatic Colin.

“You honestly don’t know?” he asked back, surprise edging his voice.

“Well, it felt like you thought Mrs. Byrne and I were going to steal your favourite hi fi, which was not a pleasant feeling. Though I think at the time she said it she was living in cloud coo coo land, considering your reaction to my arrival at your home, she told me the day before you’d likely give me a personal tour of the house.”

“Maybe I’ll do that,” he murmured as if to himself.

“Thank you, but no,” Sibyl replied quickly. “I’m never going to Lacybourne Manor again. I think I may even avoid National Trust properties altogether,” she declared dramatically then ruined it by going back on her word in case the goddess heard her statement and held her to it so she made a few exceptions. “Except Tyntesfield, naturally. And Dunster Castle, which is one of my favourites. And Durham Park, of course.” She wracked her brain to think of anything else she’d missed. “Oh! And Avebury, you get parking for free there if you’re a National Trust member.”

“You can’t possibly be real.” The warm, laughing tone in his voice made her head snap around to look at him and she saw the smile was there, full force.

“I am real, Mr. Morgan, it is you, or at least tonight’s you, that I find hard to believe is real.”

They were slowing down and she realised he was on the short, but secluded, drive to her cottage. How he knew where she lived, she couldn’t fathom, unless he memorised the address on her license which was undoubtedly what he did.

Colin stopped outside the door and pulled up the handbrake. Then he turned to her and, by the dim lights of the dash, she could see the deep intensity of his eyes.

“I’m definitely real,” he told her.

“Which is the real you?” she asked in return. “Crazy, angry man at Lacybourne or rescuer guy in Bristol?”

“Both,” he answered, she saw the flash of his teeth and she fought the insane urge to smile back at him or throw herself into his arms, or both.

Instead, she retreated into flippancy which was a far safer place to be. “Great. Multiple personalities. Perhaps I should do an intervention.”