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“Sybil is my angel. She will make me the best I can be. I know it.” He spoke with such fervency Sybil’s heart swelled and the tears prickled behind her eyelids.
“Thank you, Humphry,” she said simply.
“But discretion will be paramount,” her husband said, frowning, as he broke the handshake.
“Yes, Humphry,” Sybil whispered, seeing her delight reflected in Stephen’s smile.
“And now I have the matter of my nephew’s body to attend to,” Humphry went on. “In case you’d forgotten, Dr. Marsh will soon be back and there’ll be an inquest. You’ll have to come back from London for that.”
Stephen looked sober a moment before he answered with a secret look at Sybil, “With alacrity, my lord.”
Humphry merely harrumphed as he turned his back on them and headed toward the door to look out across the moonlit lawns, no doubt awaiting the sight of Edgar’s body being borne on a litter back from the lake. Then his voice, soft but distinct, punctu
ated the almost disbelieving silence as Sybil and Stephen held each other’s hands and gazed at one another.
“May you have joy of her, Stephen,” he said. His words floated across the few yards that separated them and as Sybil turned to look at her husband’s green-silk-clad back she nevertheless felt a stab of remorse for failing in her impossible duty. Lord Partington shook his head, his tone considering as he continued to stare out across the lawns. “It’s not her fault she’s brought me little enough of it...” He sighed once more, heavily, adding, “But perhaps she deserves what happiness you can give her.”
Sybil was too used to backhanded compliments to be troubled. Being enfolded in Stephen’s strong, fervent embrace before his mouth came down, hard and passionate upon hers, was compensation enough.
The End
