Sybille's Lord by Raven McAllan Page A

“Provisos? What, pray?”
    “Mijo,”
Theo said. “Do not push your luck. That is something I think we haven’t given
them a chance to discuss.” He stood up and tugged his wife to her feet. It wasn’t
often Theo put his foot down, or spoke in that tone of voice but when he did,
no one defied him—even Mijo.
    Mijo
stared at him for a second and then nodded. “Eh bien, we will retire. You—” she
pointed at Thom, “will behave. You—” she turned her finger toward Sybille, “will
sort things out. I want to celebrate.”
    “Or
not,” Theo said. “We will abide by your decision and wait to hear what happens
next.” He put his hand over his wife’s mouth. “And bid you goodnight. Don’t keep
her up too late, Thom. I promise you won’t be disturbed for the next hour at
least.”
    “The
others?” Sybille asked anxiously. The last thing she wanted was one of her
siblings barging in on them.
    “Will
not come into your maman’s sitting room at this time of night. If any of them
venture home before midnight, Stubbs will tell them we have retired. Which, if
my dear wife moves, will be true. Bid them goodnight, my dear.” He towed a
laughing Mijo out of the room, and shut the door behind them.
    “My
maman is incorrigible.”
    “I’m
beginning to think like mother, like daughter. Are we betrothed or not?”
      Sybille bit her lip as she tried to decide how
best to explain her worries. “It really does depend.” She hesitated. “Whether
we are truly compatible. If I marry, I do not want a husband who strays. I want
him to want me, only me, as I will want him.”
    “That
is my intention.”
      Lord, he sounds so starchy. Well if I have
offended him, so be it. ‘Tis best to know how he reacts to me and my needs now,
than have them ignored later when it may well be too late.
    “And,”
Thom said. “I will do my utmost to sort out the mess you are in, whatever you decide.”
    “I
didn’t doubt that for one minute.” If there was one thing she was certain of it
was Thom’s integrity. “That is not my problem.”
    “Then
what the hell is, woman? I’m tied in knots here, with no idea what you want or
how to help you with it. Tell me in words of one syllable before your maman
happens to need to return for her crochet or something.”
    Sybille
burst out laughing. “Never crochet. She wouldn’t have an excuse. She‘d just
come in and demand, well ? Oh lud
Thom, I’m embarrassed.”
    She
swallowed, and took up her hardly touched wine and sipped. The silky smooth
liquid quenched her thirst and gave her courage to continue. She wasn’t a coward
and it had to be said. Thom had risen, and she waved him into his seat once
more. She shook his head.
    “Not
until you sit.”
    “Ah.”
Within the informality of the room, she’d forgotten his gentlemanly attitude.
She sat, and cogitated for a moment. Beside her Thom sat with his legs
outstretched and sipped his port. As ever, the way he lounged, totally at ease
if you overlooked the slightly wary look in his eyes, set her senses quivering.
    The new me, remember. “Right. How will we know if that
is for us?” Sybille said rapidly before she could lose the courage she’d talked
herself into. “How will we…” She blushed. “Fit?”
    To
his credit Thom didn’t show how her words affected him. “As man and woman?”
    “Yes,
as well…” She waved her hand vaguely. “When we need to…to… do whatever it is we
have to do.” Lud, this is difficult. “I
know as an unmarried lady I‘m not supposed to know of such things let alone
talk of them to a gentleman, but I need to know. Therefore, I suppose I’m no
lady. But I am my mother’s daughter.”
    “And
you deserve to know, what exactly? Do you need diagrams?”
    ****
    He
wondered if her face could get any redder.
    “You
are a beast.”
    He
nodded. “A hungry one. Do you know what those words do to me?” He gestured
toward his cock, which swelled his pantaloons. He could only thank Mijo