“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.
“How delightful,” Phoebe murmured.
“Well, I’ll be,” Mags muttered.
Colin leaned forward apparently not ready to have Sibyl out of touching distance for more than a few moments. He pulled her down to the couch and settled her into his side again.
“I wonder if Japan has fallen into the sea,” Sibyl whispered under her breath.
Marian shook her head. “I don’t think so.” And then she smiled and stared intently at Sibyl. “The book says more, my dear.”
“What does it say?” Mags leaned forward eagerly.
Marian closed the book and continued to watch Sibyl. “There is more to this new legend. Apparently, a witch from another time watched over the doomed pair, coming to Royce before the terrible event happened, informing him of the plot and helping him to thwart the evil plan.”
Colin’s body stiffened and Sibyl immediately thought, uh oh.
“What?” Colin uttered that one word in a low and even voice.
“I think, and I’ll have to check the Book of Shadows because I’m sure Esmeralda will tell me more, but I think that Sibyl was destined to save Royce and Beatrice and this is why history has shifted without calamity for what was actually meant to be has now happened. They simply had to wait for her to be born so she could go back to Royce and warn him. Then they could live their lives together. Which, by the way, they both lived to be a ripe old age and Royce sired four children by his Beatrice.”
Colin, clearly not listening to these additional words, patiently repeated himself, “What?”
Sibyl felt the stirring of unease.
Marian turned her eyes to Colin. “What I mean to say is, they weren’t actually supposed to die but they had to wait for Sibyl to be born, for you two to meet and your love to bloom, so she could save them. I don’t think Japan has fallen into the ocean because that was not the way it was supposed to be, this is!” she finished triumphantly.
Colin was not getting the answers he desired. “I understand that but what I’d like to know, Marian, is more about the part where Sibyl goes to Royce to warn him. When did that happen?”
Sibyl tensed and Colin’s arm around her tightened significantly, pinning her in place by his side.
“The book doesn’t spend much time on specifics of the legend, just facts as they were known. The Book of Shadows will tell me more but the legend does say, rather romantically, the witch from another time came to Royce, inhabiting Beatrice’s body directly after Beatrice and Royce consummated their marriage.”
Colin’s arm became a steel band.
“Oh my,” Mags uttered, her voice filled with humour.
Sibyl shot off the couch and whirled and looked down at Colin. The muscle in his jaw was back to jumping spasmodically.
“Colin,” she said soothingly.
He slowly rose.
“Did you go back to him?” he growled.
She took a step back.
Colin took a step forward.
Then she admitted, “Kind of.”
He took another step forward.
She took another step back.
“Exactly what do you mean by ‘kind of’?” His voice was more than a little peeved.
She tried to smile at him.
He ignored her smile and took another step forward.
“When did this happen? Did it happen tonight? Did it happen after we’d –?”
She took another step back.
“Um… kind of.” She drew out the words as long as she could.
His eyes flashed.
He took another step forward.
She turned and ran from the room, thinking this was her best course of action.
Colin strode quickly from the room, following Sibyl and muttering distractedly to the assemblage, “If you’ll excuse us.”
“Not at all,” Phoebe told the space where his tall departing frame was only moments before.
The three women who were left in the room looked at each other and then they burst out laughing.
Then Colin came back into the room and their laughter died.
He strode to Marian’s chair and looked down at her.
She looked up.
Then, quietly he told her, “You should know, that thing had its blade at her throat, it glanced off, didn’t even come near it.”
Marian’s mouth parted in surprise. Even she didn’t know she was that good.
“Thank you,” Colin went on softly, his eyes on the woman warm and shining with gratitude.
Then without another word, he strode back out of the room.
“You’re welcome,” Marian whispered to the space where his body was only moments before.
* * * * *
Royce Morgan descended the stairs in the dead of night, leaving Beatrice exhausted and sleeping peacefully in their bed.
As he moved down the steps, he saw Esmeralda Crane stood in one of the semi-circular windows, staring thoughtfully out into the night.
Instead of her making the trip back to her cottage in the dark after the events of that eve, Beatrice had insisted the witch stay at Lacybourne with them. Also at Beatrice’s stubborn demand, Old Lady Griffin was there, Royce heard her loud snores as he walked by her chamber moments before.
He quietly strode across the Great Hall and stopped to stand beside the witch, looking out into the dark night and joining her for a moment in her silent reverie.
After some time, he spoke.
“Is she safe?” he asked softly, his deep voice rumbling low.
Esmeralda knew exactly to whom he was referring. “Yes, I believe she is.”
She was watching him and she could swear to the goddess that she could actually see the tension leave his powerful frame.
“And her betrothed?” he enquired.
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
Royce Morgan nodded.
Then he turned and walked back across the room with wide, ground-eating strides and ascended the stairs, two at a time, to rejoin his bride.
It was then Esmeralda Crane turned back to regard the night and when she did she allowed herself to smile.
Epilogue
Mallory had been caught by a sunbeam of which there were a great deal in doggie heaven.
Being thus, he immediately deposited his big body on a soft bed of grass and took a snooze.
This was rather irritatingly interrupted by a Chihuahua.
“The Big Dog wants to see you.”
Mallory lumbered up and headed to the enormous tree where the Big Dog liked to hang out. Although he much preferred to stick with his nap, one didn’t really keep the Big Dog waiting.
“Mallory,” the Big Dog woofed when Mallory arrived.
“Big Dog,” Mallory woofed back.
“It appears you’re going back down.”
Mallory groaned and slid into a lying position. He hadn’t been in doggie heaven very long.
The Big Dog continued, “As you died valiantly, you get to pick what you want to go back as. You could even return as a human.”
Mallory lifted his head at this news.
Any animal that was given this choice went back as a human (just to see what it was like). They also chose tiger (not enough food, Mallory thought, or sometimes they made you do silly tricks at circuses), lion (still not enough food and you had to run to catch it and it was usually too hot where you lived or you were caged), a wolf (people were scared of wolves and Mallory liked people) or a horse (Mallory had been there and done that, although he’d done it well, very well, it was a lot of lugging his big warrior around and then there was the blood on those battlefields).
Mallory shivered at the memory.
“I’ll pick dog again,” he told the Big Dog and vowed to himself not to do anything brave and fearless this time. He missed his mistress, she was very nice and she always found the right spots to scratch behind his ears. And Mallory also missed his new master, he liked him a lot. He would have liked to have lived a few more years with them.
“As you wish,” the Big Dog stated.
Then instantly, Mallory was reborn, the last (of course, always lagging behind) of a litter of Newfoundland pups.
Mallory thought it was fun being a puppy but somewhat exhausting.
Then, one day, six weeks later, he was lying contentedly in another sunbeam when he heard the woman who watched over them say, “They’re over here.”
His brothers and sisters all exuberantly ran to whoever it was that had entered the room. Mallory lifted his head to have a lazy look at what was transpiring.
Then he saw his tall, strong, dark-haired master.
He jumped to his big, puppy feet and ran to the man who was now crouching low over the gaggle of puppies, examining them closely.
Mallory pushed his brothers and sisters aside, surged toward his master’s hand and gave it a sloppy lick.
Colin’s eyes immediately shifted to Mallory.
“I’ll take this one,” Colin stated.
“Are you sure? He was the last one out; he’s a bit of the runt.”
Colin chuckled as his big hand closed around Mallory and lifted him into his arms.
“That figures,” he mumbled.
Mallory was beside himself with glee.
The pretty dark-haired lady that came with his master held Mallory while Colin drove them back home to Lacybourne.
Then he was put in a room for several hours. He was happy there. The room had food, water, treats and kids and people came in every once in awhile to coo over him, play with him or take him outside.
And, of course, the sun was shining brightly and there were some mighty sunbeams.
Then he had several hours to himself and he used them wisely and took a long puppy nap.
Then the door opened and the dark-haired woman walked in with a red-haired one. He knew both of them and he ran to them and gave them as many puppy kisses as they’d allow which, Mallory thought with delight, was a lot even though they were both all dressed up in pretty frocks.
They tied a silly pink and cream ribbon around his neck but he didn’t mind as it was rather fun to try and reach it so he could chew through it.
“Take off that ridiculous ribbon,” Colin ordered upon entering the room.
“But Colin, he’s a gift!” the dark-haired lady said.
“Claire, take off the ribbon,” Colin repeated.
“The ribbon has to stay, Sibyl will love it,” the red-haired woman declared.
Mallory could swear he heard his master growl.
Then Mallory jumped from the red-head’s arms and into Colin’s. His tail was wagging and his body was wriggling and he tried to reach his master’s face to give it a big, wet kiss.
Colin deftly avoided his tongue as he followed the two women out of the room, into the hall and toward the stairs.
He was still trying to lick his master’s face when he heard the loving, familiar laugh. Mallory froze, looked across The Great Hall, his floppy ears flying and saw her standing under the two big portraits.
There were tons of people there milling all over the place, drinking golden liquid from fragile glasses and eating food (some of which, Mallory fervently hoped, they’d drop to the floor). They were talking, laughing, joking, smiling and having the times of their lives.
Most of them Mallory knew, some of them he didn’t. But Mallory didn’t care. He only had eyes for one of them and he had to get to his mistress now.
Every
one was slowly stopping their chatter and turning to look as Mallory and Colin descended the stairs. And then she looked and she saw and Mallory was delighted as her face, already glowing, brightened to magnificent.
She looked so pretty in that cream dress with the pink flowers in her long, golden hair.
And she looked so happy, happier than he’d ever seen her and she was normally quite happy.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she swept forward and the crowd parted as she ran toward them.
And for the second time in his life, Colin was upstaged by a dog.
“Oh my goddess!” she breathed, snatching the puppy out of Colin’s hands.
She brought Mallory straight up to her face and she looked beyond him at Colin with love shining in her eyes.
“Oh Colin, thank you!” she cried gleefully.
She didn’t care if he licked her; she never did so Mallory gave her a big, sloppy kiss right up the side of her face.
Her body stilled before she pushed Mallory away from her and held his squirming puppy body up to her radiant face, looking directly into his eyes.
Hers were startled.
Colin’s arm came around her and he kissed the top of her head.
Her eyes melted from hazel to sherry as she brought Mallory forward and tucked him lovingly under her chin then she wrapped her arms fiercely around his puppy body.
She lifted her head and kissed her husband on the mouth before she whispered, “Oh Colin… thank you.”
He muttered, “You’re welcome,” and then he kissed her (this one took a bit longer).
Then she dropped her chin and looked at Mallory again.
And she said, in a voice only Colin and Mallory could hear.
“Welcome home, my darling Mallory.”
####
About the Author
Kristen Ashley lives in the beautiful West Country of England with her husband and her cat. She came to England by way of Denver, where she lived for twelve years, but she grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana. Her family and friends are loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Kristen’s Mom moved her and her brother and sister in with their grandparents when she was six. Her grandparents had a daughter much younger than her Mom so they all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
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