Penmort Castle (50 page)

Cash’s head
cocked sharply to the side before he told Angus, “Pretty certain
isn’t good enough.”

“Abby will have
protection,” Cassandra noted. “I’ll give it to her and Fenella,
Honor and I’ll take care of your rooms.”

“Take care of
our rooms?” Cash asked.

“Protection
spell,” Cassandra replied, “some special pixie dust sprinkled here
and there, a few incantations.” When Cash’s jaw got tight,
Cassandra’s voice dipped low. “I know how it sounds but, I promise
you, I also know what I’m doing.”

“She does,
Cash,” Abby whispered when Cash looked far from convinced but Cash
didn’t take his eyes from Cassandra.

“She’ll be safe
in your rooms,” Cassandra asserted. “Even if something happens, she
gets outside the castle walls, or to your rooms, she’ll be
safe.”

Cash’s head
turned to Abby and he muttered, “I’m supposed to trust this?”

To that Abby
replied softly, “I do.”

Abby watched a
muscle jump in Cash’s cheek and she knew he didn’t like any of what
he was hearing but he looked back at the table and forged ahead.
“Let’s talk about Saturday night.”

“We have it all
figured out,” Angus told him. “Fenella and Honor are going to get
Nicola to talk Suzanne into taking Abby up to one of the parapets.
Fenella tells us that Vivianna likes Suzanne, she’s less likely to
suspect her of setting a trap, so once she gets –”

Cash cut in by
saying, “No.”

Angus blinked
then repeated, “No?”

Abby looked at
Cash and saw he was no longer being patient, he was now angry.

“No,” Cash
retorted. “Abby’s not going anywhere near the parapets. Not with
Suzanne.”

“Suzanne
wouldn’t hurt Abby,” Fenella squeaked and Cash’s head turned to
her.

“She also
wouldn’t help her,” Cash returned.

“He has a
point,” Honor muttered and Fenella turned wide eyes to her
sister.

“Moving on!”
Mrs. Truman commanded. “What’s Plan B?”

“She likes the
conservatory. Maybe Abby can pretend to wander–” Fenella
started.

“No,” Cash
stated again.

“Not the
conservatory either?” Jenny asked.

“Too many
windows,” Cash answered and looked at Angus. “I don’t want Abby
near any windows or stairs, she uses only the bathroom in our room,
and she’s definitely not stepping foot on the fucking roof.”

Oh Lord,
Abby thought,
Cash is using the f-word.

Softly, in
hopes of calming him, Abby murmured, “Cash.”

But at the same
time, Jenny mumbled, “Maybe we can arrange the showdown in a silk
tent in the Sahara.”

Cash’s gaze
sliced to Jenny, Jenny caught his scorching glare and bit her
lips.

Then Cash
announced to the table at large, “This morning, I did some research
as well. Five women, not including Vivianna Wainwright, have died
at Penmort, two fell from the roof, one fell down the stairs and
two fell through a window.” He paused and skewered Angus with a
look. “I’ll repeat, no roof, no windows, no stairs. Now, what else
have you got?”

Everyone looked
at everyone else

Finally Angus
spoke. “The gallery.”

“The gallery is
on the second floor,” Cash reminded him. “That’s a flight of
stairs.”

“Yes, but
Vivianna likes that room and Abby can stay away from the stairs and
the windows,” Angus replied. “The gallery is huge, we’ll have
plenty of room to move in there.”

Cash took a
moment to consider this then he jerked his head in a nod. “The
gallery.”

Mrs. Truman
spoke up. “You can’t be anywhere near.”

Cash looked at
her. “I get that,” he said then continued, “but I’ll not be
far.”

“You can’t be
anywhere near,” Mrs. Truman repeated.

“I’ll not be
far,” Cash repeated in turn.

“Cash,”
Cassandra put in, “she may not appear before the master but that
doesn’t mean she can’t see him. You can’t hide from her.”

“Abby’s not
going up alone,” Cash returned.

“No, she isn’t.
Me and Cassandra will be there,” Angus said.

“If she can see
me, she can see you,” Cash retorted and Angus shook his head.

“She can’t see
me, lad, not unless I want her to,” Angus replied softly.

“And how does
that work?” Cash asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Glamour,”
Cassandra answered and Cash turned to her and raised his brows in
question so Cassandra went on, “The McPhersons have a cloaking
glamour. It’s magic, handed down for generations and hard to
explain, just trust me, it works.”

With visible
effort, Cash allowed this to pass then he asked Cassandra, “And
where will you be?”

“I’ll be
close,” Cassandra told him.

“You’ll be
very
close,” Cash told her and Cassandra nodded then Cash
turned to Angus. “How will you get her?”

“Can’t say.
Family secret,” Angus replied.

Cash looked at
him a moment then said with soft menace, “I’m sure everyone in this
room will take your secret to their grave.”

And Abby was
sure too. The way he said it, anyone in that room would be stupid
not to.

Cash went on.
“Now, tell us, how are you going to get her?”

Angus looked at
Cassandra then Jenny then Mrs. Truman and Abby noted that they all
shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Finally,
Angus’s eyes went to Cash and he spoke, “Witch’s trap.”

Cash waited for
more, Angus didn’t give it to him so Cash demanded, “Explain.”

Angus glanced
at Cassandra then back to Cash. “I’ll set a witch’s trap in the
gallery. To be trapped, she has to form, which Abby will get her to
do. Then I’ll drive her to the trap. She won’t see it, she won’t
feel it, but once she’s in the circle, she won’t be able to get out
of it.”

Cassandra took
over. “Once she’s inside the trap, I’ll be there. Angus and I’ll
fold her up and take her to a coven in Cornwall for a vanishing
ritual.”

“Fold her up?”
Cash enquired.

“Yes,”
Cassandra answered, “literally. I’ll fold her up using magic and
insert her into a case that Angus’s family has been using for
centuries. The case is protected and no matter how strong she is,
she won’t be able to get out. Transport will be safe but I’ll go
with Angus to make the delivery just in case. The coven in Cornwall
is powerful and they’ve been alerted. They’re ready. They’ll
perform the vanishing ritual the minute Vivianna is delivered to
them.”

“And that’s
it?” Cash asked.

“That’s it,”
Angus replied.

“She’ll be
gone?” Cash pressed.

“Straight to
hell,” Cassandra stated.

“You’re
certain?” Cash pushed.

Cassandra and
Angus both nodded.

Mrs. Truman
butted in and her eyes were on Abby. “Honor and Fenella have
finagled invitations to the party Saturday night for Jenny and me.
We’ll be there too.”

Abby saw Cash’s
body get tight so hurriedly she suggested, “Perhaps you should
leave this to the experts.”

It was Jenny
who spoke next. “We’re not going to be there to help.”

Mrs. Truman
finished for Jenny by declaring, “Moral support.”

“This doesn’t
get better,” Cash muttered.

Mrs. Truman’s
eyes narrowed on Cash and she snapped, “Cash Fraser, Abigail is not
going to face this peril without what’s left of her family at her
side.”

Abby felt a
jolt shoot through her belly at Mrs. Truman’s words and then her
eyes moved to Jenny.

She had no idea
when Mrs. Truman became family but since she’d known her for as
long as she could remember, and since Jenny had been in her life
for more than half of it, she realised Mrs. Truman wasn’t
wrong.

Therefore, her
gaze going from Jenny to Mrs. Truman, Abby whispered with feeling,
“Thanks guys.”

“Pah!” Mrs.
Truman exploded and Abby waited for more but there wasn’t any.

Abby smiled at
Jenny. Jenny’s eyes moved to Cash and Abby thought she looked
weirdly pensive. Then she looked again at Abby, the strange look
left her face, and she smiled back.

“Are we done?”
Honor asked.

“We’re done,”
Angus boomed and Abby looked at Cash to see if he agreed.

“Good, I’m
getting seconds,” Honor announced and Abby watched Cash sit back in
his seat and he crossed one arm on his chest but brought the fist
of his other hand to his mouth. “Abby, can I make you a plate?”
Honor called.

“Yes, please,”
Abby called back but her eyes didn’t leave Cash when she told him
quietly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Cash was
contemplating the top of the conference table but at her words,
only his eyes moved to hers and he regarded her from under his
brows.

Then, even
after all that, clearly unconvinced, Cash growled in his rough
burr, “It better fucking be.”

And Abby
thought,
bloody hell.

Abby Helps Cash
Celebrate

Abby stood by
their big, four poster, curtained bed at Penmort, rubbing lotion
into her hands and thanking her lucky stars that she was still
alive and breathing.

They’d arrived
at the castle sometime after seven for the family celebration that
went off (almost) without a hitch. No earthquakes. No eerie
screams. No ghosty she-bitch hauntings. No running for your life
through the castle.

Nothing.

Apparently
Angus and Cassandra’s guess had been correct. Throughout the
evening an on-edge Cash had glued himself to Abby’s side and
Vivianna didn’t show. There wasn’t even a cold draught, much less a
murderous spirit appearing over the dining table wreaking havoc
while they ate their pudding.

In fact, once
Abby, Fenella and Honor stopped glancing at each other with
expectant doom and, later, a very tense Cash relaxed (somewhat), it
was only Nicola and Suzanne who made the evening uncomfortable.

Nicola, because
she was unusually quiet in a way that made Abby concerned.

Suzanne,
because she was not unusually being a screaming bitch in a way that
made an obviously edgy Cash furious.

And he had
absolutely no problem letting that fact be known.

He did this by
actually calling her a “lying, fucking bitch” right at the
table.

At his words,
Abby and everyone had been shocked speechless, even though Abby and
(likely) everyone thought she deserved it.

Suzanne had, of
course, been unrelentingly bitchy throughout the meal, not only to
her sisters, but also to her mother and even, although subtly (she
was a bitch but not a bitch with a death wish), to Abby.

And knowing his
patience was wearing thin, in what Abby thought could only be
desperation to press a reaction, any reaction, from Cash, Suzanne
had cattily alluded to the fact that she’d serviced him in bed.

No joke,
serviced him in bed!

She didn’t come
right out and say it but her inference wasn’t lost on a soul at the
table. It earned horrified gasps from Fenella and Honor, Alistair
rolled his eyes wearily to the ceiling and Nicola jerked out of her
quiet reverie to turn a sharp gaze on her daughter.

But before
anyone could say a word, his voice low with fury, Cash growled,
“You lying, fucking
bitch
.”

Once she’d
pulled herself out of her speechless shock, Abby murmured a
soothing, “Cash.”

Cash ignored
Abby, his body rigidly controlled, he scowled at Suzanne in a way
that made Abby grateful a table lay between them but Suzanne glared
right back.

Everyone held
their breath.

Suzanne broke
the staring contest, turned to her mother and demanded, “Are you
going to let him speak to me that way?”

“Yes,” Nicola
said calmly and not only Suzanne’s but also Abby, Honor and
Fenella’s eyes grew round at her single word.

“
What?
”
Suzanne snapped.

“You’ve been
prodding the sleeping lion all night, Suzanne,” Nicola replied
softly, demonstrating uncanny mother’s observational abilities and
she went on. “You wanted a response, you got one. You woke the
lion, dear, don’t turn to me to pull you to safety.”

Fortunately
this served to piss off Suzanne enough for her to jump up, throw
her napkin on the table and storm out of the room.

After Suzanne
disappeared, Nicola’s eyes slid to Cash and she apologised for her
daughter. A muscle jumped in Cash’s cheek but he jerked his chin in
acceptance of her apology.

Fenella quickly
filled the conversational void with chatter and Abby, sitting next
to Cash, curled her fingers on his thigh and gave him a reassuring
squeeze.

Cash’s gaze
came to her, still angry, but also, she noted, somewhat
astonished.

Then the look
faded as did his anger and his fingers curled around hers on his
thigh. He gave them a squeeze then left them there, holding her
hand under the table.

Without Suzanne
there, and with Cash’s hand in hers, the rest of the evening had
been kind of fun (if you didn’t count Alistair being totally fake
and Nicola being practically silent, that was).

Now Abby stood
by their bed in their room.

Nicola had
given them a lush corner turret room. It had a heavy, ornate
wardrobe, chest and bureau and was decorated in a mixture of olive
and emerald greens and dove grey a bizarre colour combination,
which, somehow, worked. And in its circular turret it had two
inviting, overstuffed chairs sharing an ottoman and a small
table.

Abby was
wearing her cashmere robe and her favourite of the nightgowns Cash
had given her. This one black silk, ankle length with daring, sexy
slits on either side from the hem to her lower hip. The cut was
simple, the back low and the gown fit her at bodice, midriff and
hips fit like a second skin.

Abby was
distractedly rubbing lotion in her hands and thinking that, even if
Cash didn’t seem in the best mood (which was an understatement),
she had more to tell him. More he needed to know.