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.