“Look around you, Billie. Look really closely, what do you see?” Scarlett prompted, her tone was no longer wry but gentle.
Sibyl looked around.
Colin had a very nice bedroom. It was rather large and had richly painted with matte, slate grey walls and accents of ivory and midnight blue. There were fantastic white cornices and intricate ceiling roses. There were deep-seated, diamond-paned windows with heavy drapes. The bed was an enormous four-poster covered with a fluffy comforter in midnight blue and she already knew the ivory sheets were soft, lush and divine. There was a marble-edged fireplace with an elaborate mantelpiece that had two comfortable chairs at angles in front of it (at least, when Scarlett wasn’t sitting in one of them). Several gleaming chest of drawers and gigantic wardrobes were against the walls. Off to one side was a door to a pristine bathroom that used to be a dressing room which contained a fabulous round tub big enough for two. Off the back corner of the bedroom was a small room, sunken by several steps, that used to be a consecrated sanctuary, complete with stained glass windows, but was stripped of its blessing centuries ago and was now a rather glorious reading room, complete with a comfortable-looking chaise lounge covered in grey velvet.
Sibyl felt somewhat uncomfortable as she looked around the room, standing in it with a man who actually owned and lived in a National Trust property.
Notions were coming to her fast and sharp.
He drove an expensive Mercedes.
He wore tailored suits to work, suits that, after years of living with Scarlett, Sibyl knew probably cost a month of her salary (if not more).
He hired someone to wait on the table at a dinner party at his house.
He could afford, in a day, seemingly without effort, to acquire a suitcase full of fifty thousand pounds worth of twenty pound notes.
And refurnish a room in a Community Centre days after he’d bought a new alarm system for her house.
The light finally dawned and she looked at Scarlett mainly because she was avoiding looking at Colin.
Then she breathed out the word, “Oh.”
She could imagine every woman he met took one look at him, his clothes, his house, his car and saw nothing but his bank account. The fact that he was magnificently handsome, protective, intelligent and could be gentle and even tender was just a bonus. A very nice bonus, but a bonus all the same.
She couldn’t leave it at that, she had to know so she lifted her gaze to Colin. “You were testing me, weren’t you?”
She was referring to the fifty thousand pounds.
He knew what she was referring to and nodded.
Her heart sank.
“I failed, didn’t I?” she whispered but she knew. She’d not only failed, she’d done it spectacularly.
“Sibyl.” His voice was quiet and there was something else there, something that might have been easier to decipher if they didn’t have an avidly watching audience, but, before he could say more, another knock came at the open door and Mrs. Byrne was standing in it.
“Am I interrupting?” Marian asked.
“No,” Scarlett offered as an answer.
“For God’s sake,” Colin muttered under his breath.
“Sibyl, dear, I just wanted to be certain you weren’t angry with me,” Mrs. Byrne said, looking anxious and coming into the room.
“Oh, Mrs. Byrne, I was just in shock,” Sibyl answered, pulled from Colin’s arms, walked to the woman and gave her a fierce hug. “I’m not angry with you,” she reassured her.
“Perhaps we should have the cheese and coffee served in the bedroom?” Colin drawled.
“Great idea,” Scarlett agreed. “Do you have a bell pull up here so we can call the young, strapping Peter?”
Colin cut an acid look to Scarlett and Sibyl moved to stand between them in case he was driven to physical violence.
“I need you to know my part in all of this,” Mrs. Byrne told Sibyl, thankfully drawing her attention away from her sister.
“I want to hear this!” Claire cried and then threw herself on the bed, stretching out on her side, her head in her hand and she settled in excitedly.
Colin watched as Mrs. Byrne sat primly on the edge of the bed and then his eyes shifted to the ceiling as if praying for deliverance. Realising there was none, he walked toward the chair next to Scarlett, swiftly pivoted it around, leaned forward and hooked Sibyl (again) about the waist and settled into the chair. He pulled a surprised Sibyl onto his lap and when she squirmed he muttered impatiently, “Sit still.”