Lacybourne Manor (65 page)

Her eyes grew dazed, her mouth
parted and a soft breath escaped.

“Sibyl?” he called.

She nodded. “Unh hunh?”

“Shut up.”

* * * * *

In the gatehouse, another
spectre dispatched the watchful guard at the same time the last was
felled at the edge of the third terrace of the back garden.

The plan was coming
together.

* * * * *

Robert Fitzwilliam looked at
the clock on the dashboard of his car and then out at the rolling
hills. He deduced he was, at most, fifteen minutes from Lacybourne
Manor.

He did not like the look in the
eye of his employer that morning and he never wanted that look
directed at him again.

He was just going to make a
quick stop to check on his team.

* * * * *

At the same time, but many
years earlier, in the wood a fifteen minute horseback ride away
from Lacybourne…

* * * * *

Royce lifted his head; his body
was, as usual after he kissed Beatrice, on fire for her.

He yanked at the chain that
held his cloak together at his neck, pulled it from his shoulders
and whirled it out to lie it on the ground beside them.

“What… what are you doing?”
Beatrice gasped, her eyes dazed, her lips swollen from his
kiss.

“I cannot wait.” His voice was
gruff. He no sooner wanted to bed her their first time on the
forest floor in the threatening rain than he wanted the world to
come to an abrupt end.

But he told no lie. He simply
couldn’t wait. Something was driving him and at that moment, with
his new bride’s eyes hazy with passion, her cheeks flushed, his
body burning, he had no desire to question it.

She gulped and turned her
beautiful eyes to his before she admitted quietly, “Nor I.”

At her words, he snatched her
to him and he was not in any mood for romance and gentleness. His
mouth devoured hers and she moaned against his lips, against his
tongue in her mouth and he swept her up and dropped to one knee,
laying her on his cloak.

The horse (neither of them
noticed) shifted slightly closer, its ears up and alert.

He stretched out beside her,
his hands roving her body, his groin pressed demandingly against
her hip.

Lightning streaked the sky as
his mouth took possession of hers and he roughly pulled up her
skirts, his hand finding the smooth skin of her thigh and gliding
across it, touching it for the first time and the silken feel of it
made him wild.

“God’s teeth,” he cursed,
burying his face in her neck as thunder rent the air. If he didn’t
have her soon, he’d spend himself before they were skin against
skin.

“What do I do?” she whispered,
her voice half timid, half filled with desire.

“Touch me,” he replied without
hesitation.

“But… where?”

“
Anywhere.
”

And she did.

* * * * *

The dark soul stood, hidden
behind the copse of the trees.

The air had gone golden even as
the clouds rolled in and lightning lit the sky. It made no sense
and, further, strangely, it was hard to breath.

“They should be here now,” an
accomplice hissed.

The others shifted,
uncomfortable, uneasy with the golden air, the delayed carnage.

Something was wrong. The dark
soul felt that it should have been done by now.

That somehow, it
had
been
done by now.

And yet, it wasn’t.

* * * * *

Jumping forward in time, at
Lacybourne…

* * * * *

Rick strode into the
library.

He motioned to Kyle with a
quick jerk of his head.

Kyle read the gesture and
without word or delay he followed him into the Great Hall.

They had words.

Rick went out the front.

Kyle went out the back.

* * * * *

The (other) plan was in
motion.

Phoebe wheeled Meg into the
lounge with the children.

Meg had her orders, she had a
key to the door and she had the cordless phone.

The children had their DVD.

Annie joined them.

The children decided to take
turns shouting to Annie about what was on the screen.

Phoebe carefully locked them
in.

And just as carefully, Marian
sprinkled a protection charm on the threshold.

* * * * *

Mags ran to the kitchen. She
found the huge pot hidden in the butler’s pantry and with an
unladylike grunt she tugged it out, brought it to the kitchen
proper and hefted it onto the burner. She lit the gas underneath it
to the highest heat and pulled the lid off the pot.

Then she peeled the aluminium
foil off the top.

Then she removed the plastic
wrap that had been underneath the foil.

It
did
have a very foul
odour, one that needed to be hidden for a variety of
reasons.

Marian bustled in sprinkling
something from a glass vile onto the floor and whispering under her
breath. This she had done all through the house where Colin and
Sibyl’s guests would be.

Jemma and Tina bustled in and
Phoebe followed them.

Mrs. Griffith (a little slow
anyway) brought up the rear.

“Mrs. Griffith,” Jemma said,
trying to sound stern, “you should be in the lounge.”

“If you think I’m going to miss
this, you’re mad,” Mrs. Griffith returned, a highly unusual smile
cracking her face.

Before anyone could say
anything else, Marian seemed to come to herself and noticed the
pot.

“That will not do at all,” she
said to no one and then snapped her fingers.

The flames flew up on all sides
of the pot, licking it and crackling in the air.

Everyone jumped back a
step.

“Let’s go, ladies. We have work
to do,” Marian commanded.

Without hesitation, as they had
been instructed earlier at the barbeque, they formed a semi-circle
around the pot, trying not to breathe the putrid fumes.

And they started to chant the
words Marian had taught them over vegetable shish kebabs.

* * * * *

Sibyl was on her back on
the bed, Colin on top of her, Colin all
over
her. His mouth was at
one breast and he’d pulled down the other cup of the nightie and
there his fingers were teasing her. Unlike normally, when the
spirals of hot desire went from her breasts, her stomach, tingling
up from her toes and zooming
toward
the space between her
legs, instead, the spirals were zooming out from between her legs
and going
everywhere
.

She’d torn his sweater off,
nearly ripped it off over his head before he pushed her back on the
bed. Now he was only in jeans, she in her nightie and she could
stand it no more. She wanted his skin against her skin, she wanted
him inside her.

She put her hands in his
hair, tugged his head up to hers and kissed him with every bit of
love (which was a lot) and every bit of arousal (which was
a lot
, a
lot) she felt.

He tore his mouth away and
gazed at her with eyes blazing so intensely, she was sure she’d
melt.

She whispered, “Now.”

Without hesitation, he left
her. As she absently heard thunder fill the air, she watched with
fascination as he removed his jeans and then leaned forward and in
one, quick, luscious jerk, he pulled her panties down her legs. He
smoothed the lace up over her hips as she reached for him to bring
him to her.

He spread her thighs and surged
over her and with one, fierce, beautiful, fluid movement he filled
her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

* * * * *

“Yes,” Beatrice breathed.

They were finally naked on the
cloak, skin against skin. Royce had taken pains to make her ready
for him, he’d tasted her, tempted her, teased her. He couldn’t
believe the beauty of her body, could not believe she was all his,
to touch with his hands, his lips, his mouth.

He was certainly going to
enjoy a lifetime of this. Very,
very
much.

Now with his head bent to her
breast, he pulled her nipple sharply in his mouth, rolling his
tongue around it and listening to her soft, exquisite moans.

His fingers had found
resistance earlier but he had loosened it using her unwavering
trust in him against her instincts, as well as his talented
fingers, and they were now, finally inside her.

And she was dripping wet.

She was ready for him.

He spread her legs and rolled
between them while his mouth took hers in a sweet kiss, his hands
moving to frame her face.

“This will hurt, my love,” he
murmured against her lips as he found her with the tip of his shaft
and, controlling his hips with an immense effort of will, he slid
inside her just an inch.

Her eyes grew wide as she felt
his invasion.

“Royce,” she breathed.

He slid in more, mere
centimetres and gritted his teeth. He had avoided death in
countless gory battles on countless blood-drenched battlefields but
the exquisite torture of her lush tightness was finally going to
kill him.

“I can’t stop the pain, but I
shall try and make it…” He had to stop speaking and again grit his
teeth so he wouldn’t drive into her with the wild abandon his body
was demanding but only press in less than an inch more.

“I can’t…” she whispered.

“You can, my sweet.” He slid in
further. “Trust me.”

“I can’t…” It was softer this
time and her head moved to the side as he slowly inched in and let
her adjust to his further intrusion.

“Trust me,” he repeated.

“I can’t…” she said and then
with a glorious jerk, she slammed her hips down towards his. She
emitted a soft cry of pain that was drowned out with his low growl
as she embedded him fully inside her.

Her eyes opened and they
were clear and trusting when she finished, “
Wait
.”

* * * * *

In both times, the golden air
sparkled brightly with white-hot flashes, some of them nearly blue.
They tingled skin, the glittered through hair, they brightened the
air and they flashed everywhere like fireworks close to the
ground.

* * * * *

In the kitchen at
Lacybourne…

“Oh my…” Mags muttered, staring
at the air.

“Don’t stop chanting,” Marian
ordered, staring in the pot.

* * * * *

Close to a copse of trees
outside Lacybourne…

“Dear goddess…” Esmeralda
breathed as the sparks tingled her skin.

The dark soul cursed under its
breath.

* * * * *

Royce drove in further, deeper,
hearing her soft panting and feeling it throughout his body as
Beatrice’s hands moved, restless and demanding, all over him.

“Royce, something… is
happening… to me.” She couldn’t control her voice.

“Let go, my sweet, let it
happen,” he urged

Trusting him, her head tilted
back, her neck arched, she lifted her knees and he drove into her
deeper as he buried his face in her neck and listened with profound
satisfaction to the glorious sound of the pleasure overwhelming his
sweet, beautiful new bride.

* * * * *

Colin felt Sibyl lift her knees
and he buried his face in her neck, her movements allowing him to
thrust his cock even deeper inside her and she quietly panted.

“Colin, I think I’m going
to…”

And then he listened with
profound satisfaction to the glorious sound of his sweet, beautiful
new fiancée’s orgasm.

* * * * *

Royce Morgan found his own
release moments later and after he did, the rain came.

* * * * *

Colin Morgan came back to
himself after his intense climax and vaguely heard the rain against
the windows.

* * * * *

Then, magic shafting through
time, the two worlds collided.

And for a brief moment, all
time stopped.

History Shifts

Royce lifted his head. With
great reluctance, he had slid out of Beatrice but he did this with
utmost care, not wishing to cause her pain after her pleasure. At
the same time he lifted his head, he moved his hand to smooth her
lustrous, dark hair.

But his hand arrested for her
hair was not dark.

It was blonde. It was the same
colour as his own.

“You.” He watched the dazed
pleasure fade slowly from her familiarly unfamiliar eyes as she
focussed on him.

He knew her.

“Oh my goddess!” She jerked
beneath him but he kept his weight firmly on top of her.

He wanted answers and, this
time, he was going to get them.

And what Royce Morgan wanted,
he found a way to get.

“Where is Beatrice?” he
demanded, his hand, instead of smoothing, gently but firmly fisted
in her silky, golden locks.

Her eyes turned panicked.
“I don’t know,” she answered, blinked, her body shifted slightly
under his and then she rapped out a string of quick questions,
“What are you doing? What are
we
doing? What were you doing
with Beatrice?”

His voice held an edge. “Bring
her back, I want her back.”

“
Colin is going to
kill
me,”
she muttered, what he considered absurdly, and she did this as if
to herself as she tried to wriggle out from beneath him.

Considering he’d just
consummated his union with his beloved bride, he’d done this
soundly and with great pleasure for the both of them and now, mere
moments later, another being was lying naked beneath him, Royce
lost patience.

Therefore he did not
check himself and roared, “
I
want her back!
”