Penmort Castle (52 page)

Feeling
embarrassed, she tucked her head under his chin. When she did, his
arms tightened and immediately she felt the embarrassment slide
away.

They were again
silent.

Eventually he
called, “Abby.”

“Mm,” she
replied.

“Thank you for
telling me everything you told me tonight.”

It was her turn
for her arms to steal around him and give him a squeeze.

“I should have
said something earlier.”

“It wasn’t easy
to say,” he replied.

“Still,” she
muttered.

His arms gave
her a mild shake before he commanded, “Darling, look at me.” Abby
tilted her head back again to peer at him in the dark. When he
continued, his voice was soft and rough and very effective. “It
wasn’t easy to find the right time and it wasn’t easy to find the
right words. You did both. Thank you.”

She stared at
his shadowed but still handsome face and whispered, “You’re
welcome.”

His face tipped
until their foreheads were touching and he slid his nose alongside
hers.

When he did
Abby closed her eyes and committed every nuance of that moment to
memory.

Then he
murmured, “Unless you have any other bright ideas, maybe we should
go to bed.”

She opened her
eyes, bit her lip and thought about it a second, finally informing
him, “Nope. No other bright ideas.”

He laughed
softly, lifted her up as he stood and put her on her feet.

Then he took
her to bed.

When she was
pressed into his side in their big, curtained bed, in a big,
imposing castle (
his
big, imposing castle), close to
dreamland and feeling that peace spread through her that only Cash
had been able to give her for many a year, she heard him speak.

“I meant what I
said.”

“Pardon?” she
mumbled.

“When you were
about to come. What I said. I meant it.”

She felt her
body go tight as all thoughts of sleep fled.

Then she felt
her belly get warm.

Quietly, she
shared, “The first time I saw you, I almost ran away.”

Surprisingly he
responded, “I know.”

Abby forced her
body to relax and after she succeeded in that monumental task, she
snuggled closer.

Moments slid
by.

Finally, taking
her heart in her hands and hoping with everything she was that Cash
would know what to do with it, she whispered, “I’m glad I
didn’t.”

His arm around
her waist tensed and he replied, “I am too.”

Yes, he knew
what to do with it.

Abby smiled
against his shoulder, cuddled the last smidgeon closer and fell
asleep.

Losing Abby

Cash was in the
library, his eyes swiftly scanning the books.

If Honor had
found clues to Vivianna Wainwright in the library, Cash thought
there might be something she’d missed. Something that might give
him insight into how to defeat a fucking ghost. Something that
might help him to feel a little less fucking useless.

Cash Fraser’s
thoughts were sprinkled liberally with the f-word such was his
mood.

He’d left Abby
at the breakfast table with Nicola, Fenella and Honor.

He didn’t want
to but once the conversation turned to catering and flowers, Abby
saw his impatience and urged him to go.

He refused.

Abby enlisted
Nicola and Nicola urged him to go.

He wanted to
refuse but he didn’t.

Cash felt there
was something wrong with Nicola. She had a fragility about her that
was atypical.

However, Cash
didn’t have time to worry about Nicola when his thoughts were
centred on Abby and what was to happen that night.

He’d left Abby
only after pulling her to him and engaging in a lips-to-ear
whispered conversation that, to any who observed it, would look
like lover’s talk.

Instead it was
Cash telling Abby if she left Nicola’s fucking side he’d not be
responsible for his actions.

After biting
her lip (this time, Cash could swear, it was to hide a smile,
although he had no fucking clue what there was to smile about),
Abby agreed.

Only then did
Cash leave.

He spied an
unusual book, thin and old, pulled it from its shelf and leafed
through it, finding it was a (bad) epic poem about the Civil
War.

He replaced the
book and his mind went back to Abby.

He had, he
realised, been wrong. He’d thought he had her that first weekend
they were together.

He hadn’t had
her then.

He knew this
because he had her now.

All
of
her.

The all of her
he saw that she gave her husband in their wedding photo.

And the feeling
of having all of Abby was something Cash had not anticipated.

He should have.
She’d given him clues. Hell, she’d given him clues from the first
day they’d met.

He, of course,
thought she was a professional escort. So when she’d wiped the
gloss from his lips at the pub and leaned into him in an
affectionate way when he put on her cape on their first date, he
thought it was a show.

It wasn’t.

It was just
Abby.

The night she’d
thought he was in an accident, her guard came crashing down.

Quickly after
she invited him in, laughing in abandon with her face turned up to
his; calling him for no reason (and then hilariously expecting him
to carry the conversation); squeezing his thigh comfortingly when
he was angry; curling in his lap to be close when she had to share
hard facts but in a gentle way; leading him to the study and asking
him to fuck her on the desk,
that
was Abby.

All of
Abby.

All for
him.

On this
thought, for some unknown reason, Cash’s mood turned darker and he
wondered if Benjamin Butler had any time to think before he’d died.
To think about his wife. To think about leaving such an exquisite
creature behind. To think about how fucking lucky he’d been and how
abhorrent it was that their time was cut short.

Cash hoped he
had not.

His mind
occupied with Abby’s dead husband suddenly Cash felt a warm draught
against his ankles.

He looked down
and saw nothing.

He looked to
the door. It was, as he left it, open.

He looked to
the window. It was, as he’d entered, closed.

The draught
ascended the length of his body, curling around.

Cash took a
step back and it disappeared.

“Fucking hell,”
he muttered, thinking the situation with Abby, the castle and the
ghost was screwing with his head.

On that
thought, the draught came back, circling his wrist in an odd way,
almost but also strangely not, putting pressure there as if to lift
his hand.

He took another
step away.

“Here he is!”
Cash heard Fenella screech and the draught disappeared.

He turned to
the door to see her entering, yanking her mother behind her, Abby
following, Honor coming up the rear.

Abby’s
sentries.

Cash stared at
them.

Then he
repeated, “Fucking hell.”

“Well, I knew
he couldn’t have gone far,” Abby stated, rushing forward.

The minute her
back was to the others, she gave him a comical, wide-eyed look
which Cash couldn’t quite interpret and at which Cash was in no
mood to laugh.

“I’m still not
certain why we
all
had to go in search of Cash. Abby could
have found him on her own,” Nicola noted, her words explaining
Abby’s look.

Abby had made
it to Cash’s side and her fingers curled around his bicep as she
leaned into his body and looked back at Nicola.

“I could have
got lost,” she lied, bald-faced.

“Yes, it’s a
big castle.” Honor drawled, her eyes on Cash. She looked like she
didn’t know whether to laugh or scream and Cash felt her pain.

“And I’m
blonde,” Abby went on, “I think it’s a scientific fact that blondes
are a bit scatty.”

At her words,
Cash started leaning towards laughter and looked down at Abby. “I’m
not certain that’s science.”

“Really?” she
asked. “I thought there were some studies done about it.”

“I don’t think
so,” Cash replied.

“Well, there
should be,” she mumbled, giving him another look, this one he could
read quite clearly and it said
shut up
, then she turned a
bright smile to Nicola and declared overly cheerfully, “Well, I
found him now! All’s well!”

Cash’s mood
disappeared and he burst into laughter.

His arm went
around her waist to pull her closer. When it did, her hands
detached from his bicep, one arm slid around his back and she
looked up at him right before his head descended and, still
laughing, he kissed her. It was swift, it was light but it was
definitely a kiss.

When he lifted
his head, he saw she was smiling up at him dazzlingly as if his
laughter was a gift from the gods, better than any diamond
bracelet, any cashmere robe.

The smile still
on her lips, her thumb came to his mouth and she swiped at her
ever-present lip gloss the kiss had transferred to his lips. As she
did so Cash felt the room around them melt and all he saw was her
exquisite face, her smile, her glow.

And he knew,
regardless of all that was happening, ghosts and brothers murdering
brothers and sons exacting retribution, Abby was happy.

And Cash had
made her that way.

In that instant
Cash saw that not only had her guard come crashing down, the pain
she couldn’t quite hide that lurked in the back of her eyes from
the minute he’d sat across from her at the pub had disappeared.

He’d taken it
away.

“Jesus,” he
muttered, powerful sensations he didn’t completely understand
shooting through him like spears and he watched her face turn
confused.

“What?” she
asked.

“Jesus,” he
repeated.

Abby turned
into him. “Cash, are you okay?”

As if his
actions weren’t under his control, his hand went to her jaw tilting
her face up further. His mouth came down on hers and he gave her a
kiss that was not swift, it was not light and it could have quite
possibly been the physical definition of
a kiss
.

“Oh my,” Cash
vaguely heard Fenella whisper from far away.

“Maybe we
should leave them alone,” Nicola murmured from just as far.

“The bloke who
played Cash in the movie didn’t kiss
that
good,” Honor noted
blandly.

Regardless of
their onlookers and the conversation they were holding, Cash’s
focus was entirely on Abby. He kept kissing her as if they were the
only ones in the room and she kissed him back the same way.

“Honor, shush,”
Nicola snapped quietly, “let’s go.”

“We can’t go.
Abby’s going to town with me,” Fenella said and on that, with
disappointment at the brevity of their kiss (and the fact they had
an audience who wouldn’t shut the fuck up and get the hell out)
Cash’s head came up. Instead of pulling away, he slid his nose
alongside Abby’s.

“I said,
let’s go,
” Cash heard that Nicola’s voice was now getting
sharper, if not louder.

“Are you okay?”
Abby repeated in a whisper, her eyes on his.

“Yes,” Cash
replied, his voice vibrating low, “I’m very okay.”

And this was
true. Regardless of their current circumstances, he’d never felt so
fucking okay in his life.

Abby’s brows
drew together and her mouth twitched in a way that it looked like
she wasn’t sure whether to smile or to frown.

“Abby, are we
going to town?” Fenella called and Cash’s hand flexed where it
still held Abby’s jaw, not in a demonstration of affection, instead
in a reflexive action denoting his restrained desire to wring
Fenella’s neck.

“Um…” Abby
muttered, her mouth deciding it wanted to smile which it did, “we
were coming to tell you that we’re going to town. We need your
car.”

That
got
Cash’s full attention.

“My car?” he
asked as he dropped his hand from her jaw.

“Yes, your
car,” Abby answered.

“Town is a two
minute walk away,” Cash told her.

“I know,” Abby
replied.

“Why do you
need my car?” Cash enquired.

Her smile
turned mischievous. “Because I want to drive it.”

Cash burst out
laughing and both his arms went around her, pulling her into his
body.

“Does that mean
we’re going to town?” Fenella semi-yelled like they were three
rooms down, not fifteen feet away.

Once he’d
sobered, Cash looked at his cousin. “You’re going to town.”

Abby’s body
melted into his and her head tipped back further to smile at
him.

Then she
whispered, “You’re going to have to walk me down to the car.”

“I know,” he
whispered back.

“
Now
can
I get to the business of preparing for one hundred guests to
descend tonight, or do you girls want me to go into town with you,
just in case Abby gets lost?” Nicola asked but for the first time
since they arrived last night, she looked cheerful if not her
normal cheerful.

“You go, Mummy.
We’ll be fine,” Fenella assured Nicola as Cash started to lead Abby
to the door.

“I’m glad to
hear that since you’ve lived two minutes from town since you were
ten years old,” Nicola mumbled as she headed busily out the door,
casting a smile back at Abby and Cash before she disappeared.

Honor gave them
a small wave and followed her mother. Cash walked Abby and Fenella
to his and Abby’s room to get his keys.

However when
his fingers closed around the keys on the bureau, the warm draught
he’d forgotten with the arrival of Abby and her entourage came
back. It was stronger this time, almost insistent, and it felt like
it was trying to prevent him from picking up the ring.