“I’m sorry about answering your phone,” she told him. “I wasn’t thinking.”
His mouth came down and brushed hers lightly but swiftly before his head lifted and he replied, “Don’t worry, I can deal with my sister.”
As if on cue, his mobile began to ring again. Instead of ignoring it, he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. When he did, he sighed and flipped it open. Without letting go of her, he put it to his ear.
“Mum,” he said as greeting.
Sibyl’s body stiffened and in response, his hand travelled up and began to stroke her back. This was done without thinking, she could tell, a spontaneous reaction to her tenseness and the thoughtfulness made her pull in her breath to mask her reaction.
“Yes,” he answered some question while she watched his face change expressions from wary to exasperated before he shuttered it from her. “Yes,” he said again then, “There is absolutely no need –” Then, the short conversation apparently over, he flipped it shut again with a heavy sigh.
“I’ve caused a problem, haven’t I?” she asked, feeling even more guilt.
She had no idea what was happening with his family and she knew it was none of her business. She also knew his sister had jumped to a conclusion about what Sibyl was to Colin and now Colin had to find some tactful way to explain.
“I’m going to have to go. My mother and sister will be descending on Lacybourne. They’re leaving within the hour.”
Sibyl felt a rush of gloom at his leaving.
“My parents are coming next week,” she blurted and had no idea why she felt compelled to tell him a piece of information he already knew, except to prolong his departure.
“I know.” His answer was distracted, he’d already pulled away from her and she already missed his arms. Then he tipped up her chin and kissed her but that was distracted too.
She wanted to do all the things a girl would normally do when her lover was going to spend his first night away from her while both of them were in the same town.
She wanted to give him a kiss.
She wanted to ask him if she could come with him.
But she did neither of these because that was not what she was to him.
Instead, she walked to her roll of labels to finish the jars.
He was watching her.
“How are you getting to Heathrow?” he asked as if he’d just thought of it. “You can’t be taking the MG.”
Even though it would have been physically impossible for herself, her father, her mother and their luggage to ride the two and a half hours back from Heathrow in the MG (not to mention, the MG would never make the trek), his statement was not exactly what the words said.
He said “can’t” he meant “won’t”.
“Hire car,” she answered. “I pick it up the night before.”
“Cancel it. I’ll arrange for a car to come ‘round to get you.”
She felt her mouth part at this announcement before she informed him, “I’ve already booked the car.”
“Cancel it,” he repeated, still distracted but clearly issuing a command.
She felt both irritation and tenderness at his domineering. It was beginning to dawn on her that many of his commands had something to do with her protection, safety, convenience or comfort (but, of course, not all of them).
“Colin, is that an order?” He was watching her affix the labels, for some reason regarding this act as if it was fascinating, but, at her voice saying his name, his eyes came to hers.
“Yes,” he replied shortly.
She glared at him and then, having no choice, nodded.
For some reason, this made him grin.