And she suddenly felt like bursting into tears. She had to make him go upstairs, she had to – she gulped – she had to cheat (essentially) on Colin in order to save Royce and Beatrice. Or, she hoped, get the ball rolling then wake up in her time and in this time Beatrice could take over. And hopefully Beatrice wouldn’t come back from wherever she went when Sibyl was in her body and not be too freaked out.
She didn’t care if it messed with time (although she really didn’t want Japan to fall into the sea). She felt, believed to the bottom of her heart, that she and Colin would find each other, even if she did save Beatrice and Royce.
And she was going to do it, if there was time.
She’d forgotten that Royce was a seasoned warrior and he knew the kind of fear he saw in her eyes. Therefore the warmth went out of his, his body stiffened and he stared at her with concern.
“Speak to me,” he demanded.
“Royce.” She stepped closer and his arms instantly moved around her, pulling her protectively, lovingly against his hard body. She nearly came undone at the strange, casual beauty of his light embrace. “We have to go upstairs, Royce, tonight it will be too late because tonight…”
Then it happened, she was slipping away, she could feel it. She was waking from her dream and Beatrice was coming back. She had to change tactics, there wasn’t enough time, she simply had to warn him that tonight they would be murdered even if he thought she (or Beatrice) was crazy.
“Tonight? Beatrice, what do you fear happens this night?”
“Royce.” She could have sworn she shouted his name but it came out less than a whisper.
And then he was gone or she was gone and instead she was on her side in Colin’s bed, Bran curled up in the warm space made by her belly and her bent legs. She felt a hand smooth over her shoulder and she turned her head to see Colin’s dark one descending to kiss the place where his hand had been.
She wanted to burst into tears.
Instead she hid her rampaging emotions with a sleepy, “Morning,” and she closed her eyes to hide her feelings from Colin.
She felt his finger run down her cheekbone. “Go back to sleep, darling.”
And then he was gone.
And when she knew he was, she finally allowed the tears to come.
For she knew somewhere in the bottom of her heart that was her last chance.
And she had failed.
* * * * *
First thing that morning, Mandy walked into Colin’s office with his coffee and whispered, “Mr. Fitzwilliam is here to see you.”
She was privy to who Mr. Fitzwilliam was and perhaps, considering she opened his mail and had access to his desk, what some of his reports contained.
She also was well aware of Colin’s impatience with any kind of lack of progress.
She took one look at the controlled fury on Colin’s face, set the cup down at the far, outer corner of his desk as if she feared for her very life if she came within close proximity to him.
Then she slid the newspaper cautiously beside his coffee. “And you might want to have a look at that…” she paused then finished warningly, “later.”
With that, she ran-walked out of the room.
Robert Fitzwilliam entered seconds after.
Colin did not rise. He sat back in his chair and watched as Robert came into the room, stopped at the other side of the desk and looked, Colin was further infuriated to see, not the least bit ill-at-ease.
Before Colin could say a word, Robert announced, “We caught the boy.”
“I beg your pardon?” Colin asked quietly.
“The boy whose arm you broke, we caught him,” Robert answered. “We have him. We’re holding him not far from here.”
Colin took in a breath, trying for patience.
Fitzwilliam continued, “He’s been talking. We expect to have the other one within the hour.”
Colin regarded him carefully and when he spoke his voice was dangerous. “At this point, I’m not certain how relevant that is. Considering, of course, that the socialite and apparent villainous mastermind who orchestrated this entire lark is now in jail. Brought low, I might add, by a bevy of OAPs.”
Finally, the investigator looked a touch ill-at-ease. “Mr. Morgan, if you would allow me to explain.”
“This,” Colin said, his tone reaching stratospheric levels of ominous, “had better be good.”
Fitzwilliam, quite bravely, since he was not invited to do so, took a seat.
Then he started. “We knew Tamara Adams was following you. I did not report this to you because there seemed to be matters of weightier concern and, quite honestly, I had enough on my hands that I didn’t have the time to write reports or make phone calls about a common stalker. You, sir, are a man who can protect himself.”
Colin’s lips tightened at what he considered empty and overly respectful cajolery.
“Might I remind you, Robert, that I wasn’t concerned about me.”
“Of course, I know that. But Miss Adams was not following Miss Godwin, she was always following you. More to the point, my men were seeing quite an alarming number of tails. You had yours and not just Miss Adams but these other tails seemed especially devoted to Miss Godwin. Yet, when my men would investigate, there was no one there. No one in the cars they saw following, no one in the bushes they’d seen rustling, the shadows they saw lurking at windows seemed to simply disappear, it was like whoever he was, he was invisible.”
Colin raised his brows and Robert went on speaking.
“Or at the very least slippery. We found this telling and went on high alert, obviously, because this was the work of a professional or several as these tails could be on both you and Miss Godwin at the same time. Not to mention, I had to set a man on each of your houses in case something was rigged while you were away. And, I’m afraid, as your home is open to National Trust visitors, I also had to have several men available on those days mingling with the tourists and watching for suspicious activity. Miss Godwin and her family are a highly active bunch. Shopping, walks, day trips, playing Frisbee out in the open on the seafront, they were everywhere and very exposed and being so made our task very difficult.”
“You were paid well to deliver on a difficult task,” Colin reminded him. “Furthermore, I’d like you to explain why now is the first time I’m hearing all of this.”
Robert raked a hand through his hair for the first time looking frustrated and he looked at the floor. “We didn’t have anything concrete. I didn’t want to alarm you or Miss Godwin if it turned out to be nothing. And every time we approached, it was exactly that, nothing.”