Penmort Castle

Chapter Twenty-Three Strategic Planning

Abby woke when Cash’s body moved into hers. She drowsily noted she was in a strange position, curled into a ball against Cash, the top of her head pressed into his side. His arm was extended and curved around her spine.

He moved her, sliding her up the bed. Her body uncurled to accommodate his and he rolled mostly on top of her.

His face went into her neck and he murmured in a sleepy burr, “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His mouth moved from behind her ear to her jaw and he asked, “Are you still on your period?”

Abby answered, “Probably,” and she heard the disappointment in her voice.

His lips hit hers and brushed there softly before he said, “Go back to sleep.”

He started to move away but her arms went around him, stopping his retreat.

Her mind was groggily registering that they didn’t have all the time in the world, so there was no time to waste.

She pressed up and pushed off on a foot, rolling him to his back, positioning herself on top of him, her mouth going to his neck and she tasted him there.

She felt his hands at her bottom and then he said, “Abby.”

“Quiet,” she whispered.

His hands trailed up her back as her lips moved on his neck.

“You don’t have to do this, darling,” he told her, his voice low and rough.

Her head came up and she looked at him in the dark.

On a soft smile, she replied, “I know.”

Then she bent her head and used her hands and mouth on him, everywhere on him, wherever she wanted, however she liked and she took her time.

And he let her.

And he enjoyed it.

A lot.

After she was finished with him, he kissed her with residual passion mixed with sweet gratitude and left the bed.

Abby curled around his pillow and her last thought before falling back to sleep was, That was brilliant.

“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Kieran Kane was standing in his kitchen with his wife who was wiping down the counters like she was preparing to perform surgery on them.

Jenny glanced at him. “Nothing’s the matter.”

He grinned. “Right.”

She stopped wiping, straightened to look at him and repeated, “Nothing’s the matter.”

Kieran ignored this out-and-out lie and asked, “Is it Abby?”

She put a hand to her hip. “And why would you think it was Abby?”

“Partly because you got a phone call at midnight from her communicating Lord Fraser’s demands that you appear in his offices today. And partly because it’s always Abby.”

Jenny threw the sponge in the sink and snapped, “It’s not always Abby.”

At her answer, Kieran felt the usual gut clench when the topic came up and he asked gently, “Is it our appointment at the fertility clinic on Monday?”

He watched her face pale but she said, “No.”

He put his coffee cup down and got close, sliding his hands around her waist. His face chased hers as her eyes moved anywhere but to him until she finally gave in on a sigh and looked at him.

“Whatever happens, happens, pumpkin,” Kieran murmured. “I’m happy to adopt and I’m happy for it just to be the two of us for the rest of our lives. You know that.”

Jenny sighed again. “I know it.”

He touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t let it worry you.”

Her eyes slid away and she whispered, “You always talked about wanting a son to go out and –”

His mouth hit hers, effectively silencing her, a trick he’d learned years ago and one he utilised more than occasionally.

When he lifted his head, he said, “I want you. All the rest is just icing. You know that too.”

Jenny’s lips tipped up at the ends and she replied quietly, “I know it.”

“Stop worrying,” Kieran demanded.

“Okay,” Jenny lied.

Kieran grinned then muttered, “Liar.”

Before the glittering spark in her eye could be translated verbally, he kissed her, far deeper this time.

Then he went to work.

Kieran was barely out the door when Jenny’s mobile rang.

She was glad of it. Anything to keep her mind off the appointment Monday, even if it had to do with Abby, her new boyfriend (who Jenny didn’t know whether to love or hate) and the ghost that wanted Abby dead.

Regardless of what Kieran said, Jenny wanted a baby and she wanted to give him a son. She wouldn’t plunge into a suicidal depression if she couldn’t, but she would still be devastated. They’d been trying to get pregnant for ages (and working hard at it), so she didn’t think the news would be good.

She was not looking forward to Monday in any way.

So she resolutely set these thoughts aside and grabbed her mobile.

The display said, “Cassandra Calling”.

Jenny flipped it open and put it to her ear.

“Hey girl,” she said by way of greeting, as usual hiding her dark thoughts of moments before.

“Hey mate,” Cassandra replied. “Listen, can you talk?”

Jenny thought Cassandra had called for a gossip session and asked, “Is this about our summons to Cash’s offices today?”

“No,” Cassandra answered. “Though, gotta admit, I was surprised. And pleased. It’ll help, him being in the know.” She hesitated and went on with a smile in her voice. “And I wouldn’t mind seeing where he works, see if it’s like in the movie.”

“I’m noticing not a lot about Cash is like that movie,” Jenny replied and heard Cassandra chuckle.

“Yeah, that actor, whatever-his-name-is, was fit, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can suck the entire life force out of the room like Cash can. He’s a powerhouse. I can see why they wanted to make a movie about him but there’s no way you could capture something like that on film,” Cassandra noted.

Jenny didn’t want to talk about what a powerhouse Cash was because she thought it sucked that practically everything about him seemed wonderful but he was, if their secret conversation was anything to go by, not.

Jenny changed the subject. “Why’d you call?”

Cassandra took a moment before answering, “Are you sitting down?”

Jenny felt her heart lurch and lied, “Yes.”

“Okay, mate, take a breath,” Cassandra advised and Jenny did as she was told then heard Cassandra say, “My friends in Virginia, they made contact.”

Jenny knew what she was saying. In desperation, she, Mrs. Truman and Cassandra had come up with the idea days ago.

Jenny stumbled to a chair at the kitchen table and sat.

“Ben?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Cassandra answered.

Jenny closed her eyes and felt tears prickling the backs of them at the very thought of what this might mean when she asked, “He didn’t go to, um… the other plane?”

“He did. They used the entire coven to pull him out,” Cassandra told her.

Jenny’s eyes opened but only to blink in shocked surprise. “You can do that?”

“In life and death circumstances and if the coven is powerful, yes.”

“My God,” Jenny breathed.

Cassandra went on. “They’re un-tethering him. He’ll be at the castle Saturday night.”

“My God,” Jenny repeated.

“Are you okay?” Cassandra asked.

“No,” Jenny told her in all honesty. “You’re telling me the ghost of my good friend is going to fight the ghost who wants to kill my best friend. A ghost who happens to be under the mistaken impression that Cash Fraser is in love with my good friend ghost’s wife.” Jenny wasn’t making much sense but didn’t care.

Ben was going to be at the castle.

With Abby.

And Cash!

“Widow,” Cassandra said softly, taking Jenny out of her thoughts.

“What?” Jenny asked.

“Widow. Abby’s his widow, no longer his wife,” Cassandra replied.

“She’ll always be Ben’s wife,” Jenny retorted.

“She stopped being his wife a long time ago, Jenny,” Cassandra returned gently.

Jenny shook her head sharply, not about to fight this point, not wanting even to think about this point, so she said, “Whatever. Ben has got to know, your coven friends have got to tell him that Abby can’t see him. She’ll freak.”

“He’ll do what he has to do,” Cassandra said.

“Cassandra, you don’t know how it is. Abby can’t see him, she’ll freak,” Jenny repeated.

“He’ll do what he has to do or she’ll die,” Cassandra noted firmly.

Jenny hated to admit it, but she had a point.

Jenny thought it was time to move on to the next subject. “Are we carpooling to Cash’s offices?”

“I’ll drive,” Cassandra offered.

“All right then, see you soon,” Jenny said and they rang off.

Jenny flipped her phone shut and put it on the table.

“Well, one thing’s certain,” she told her phone. “I’m not worried about the fertility clinic anymore.”

Jenny’s phone had no response.

Abby walked into Cash’s offices and saw him immediately.

He was behind a glass wall in a conference room with at least a dozen other people. He was sitting at the head of the table wearing one of his impeccably tailored suits, this one black with a shirt of deep grey and a fantastic black tie with a grey and red pattern on it. He had a heavy, expensive-looking black pen with gold accents in his fingers. He was upending it, the pen sliding through his fingers, only for him to catch it at the tip and upend it again.

Someone was standing at the foot of the table speaking to the group and there were charts projected on the wall behind him. Cash’s attention was focused on the speaker but Abby had only taken a few steps into the reception area when Cash’s head turned and his black eyes hit her.

She’d been in a clothing crisis all morning not knowing what to wear to this meeting, especially since it was at Cash’s office.

It was one thing when she was getting paid to be his girlfriend and going out to dinner at restaurants surrounded by people they didn’t know. It was another to be his girlfriend and go to his office where all his staff could see (and judge) her.

She’d decided professional class was her best bet. But even when she was working she rarely wore traditional suits. Instead, she dressed, as Ben used to say, like Princess Diana with attitude (but without the hats).

That day she chose one of her old work suits. A soft fawn colour with a fitted skirt, the hem brushed her knees and it had slits up each side. One of the reasons she bought the suit was that the jacket fit like it was made for her, had a nipped-in waist and a succession of smart, intricate pleats falling from her waist at the back. She wore this with a shiny, cream satin blouse that she always unbuttoned just one button below professional, as she did today. She’d put on her mocha suede high-heeled boots, matching wide belt and you could see a hint of flesh-coloured fishnet stockings covering her knees between the top of the boots and the hem of the skirt. She wore her pearl earrings and choker her parents gave her for her wedding and her gold watch. She had blown her hair dry sleek, left it long and did her makeup in her “Edgy Professional” look. Lastly, she’d worn her mother’s taupe coat but had taken it off on the way up in the elevator and now it was over her forearm, her mocha, patent-leather clutch shoved under her arm.

She held her breath as Cash’s eyes did a sweep of her finally coming to rest on her face.

Then she watched him smile a slow, lazy, gorgeous smile and she felt that smile shoot straight from her heart, through her belly, right between her legs.

Then Abby heard, “Can I help you?”

Tearing her gaze with some difficulty from Cash’s smile, Abby turned her head to the young, attractive, very professionally dressed woman seated behind the reception desk and Abby moved toward her.

“I’m Abigail Butler. I’m here –” Abby started but the girl shot out of her seat.

“Abby. Right,” she said, rounding her desk, “Cash said you were coming.” Her head tilted to the conference room and she continued. “As you can see, he’s in a meeting but he’ll be out in a minute.” She motioned toward a hallway, walking ahead, obviously expecting Abby to follow (which she did) and went on. “I’ll take you to his office. Can I get you a coffee? We have an espresso machine. I can make you a latte or cappuccino.”

“Just a regular coffee, white and strong, if you don’t mind,” Abby replied as the woman turned to a door, opened it and led Abby in.

Abby took two steps in and halted.

It was an enormous corner office with a stunning view of Bath afforded from all of its many windows. The desk was huge, messy, covered in papers, file folders, some opened, some stacked, two phones (who needed two phones?) and Cash’s laptop.

Outside the messy desk, the rest of the office was immaculate. Just as she’d noticed in the reception area and hall, the décor was a successful mixture of traditional and modern. Wood panelled walls, heavy, elegant furniture but with modern art, fixtures and fittings.

His office not only held his desk but two large, black leather chairs facing it. There was a stylish but comfortable-looking couch with a low table in front of it against one wall as well as a smaller conference table that accommodated six to the other side. One entire wall was taken up with a built-in unit with illuminated shelves, one containing glasses, a wider one containing decanters of liquor, still others containing interesting bronze sculptures and there was even a counter with a sink as well as several spaces covered with doors and all the doors had locks.

“White coffee. Strong,” the woman said, “be right back.” And Abby turned to see her rushing out.

“Wait,” Abby called.

The woman stopped and looked back at Abby.

Abby smiled. “I didn’t get your name.”

The woman blinked at her then said, “Emma.”

At this news, Abby winced and muttered, “Oh dear,” and watched Emma blink again as Abby moved to her, “I think I might need to apologise.”

Emma was looking at her as if a spaceship was hovering outside Cash’s windows and Abby had just stepped off of it.

“Sorry?” Emma asked.

“The other day, when Moira got in an accident, you called and I didn’t let you finish. I think Cash got a little –” Abby explained and Emma cut her off.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly but shutters had come down over her eyes telling Abby that she did, indeed, get into trouble and it was anything but okay.

Therefore, Abby blurted, “My husband was killed in a car accident.” She watched Emma give a start and Abby went on. “Four years ago. I overreacted when you called. Panicked really. I tried to explain that to Cash and that I hadn’t let you finish but he was a bit, um…” How could she explain it? She tried to be tactful. “Put out that I was in that state.”

Emma regarded her for a moment then Abby watched as her gaze unshuttered and her eyes went soft. “I get it now and that’s understandable.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” Abby pressed and Emma smiled at her.

“That’s okay,” she nodded, meaning it this time, then turned saying, “I’ll just get your coffee.”

Emma left and Abby threw her coat and bag on Cash’s couch, went to the windows and looked at Bath.

Cash had asked her to arrive half an hour earlier than the others, he hadn’t explained why and she hadn’t asked. Now, clothing crisis averted, the Emma apology over, she had time to wonder why.

As she contemplated this, Abby had no idea what was going on outside Cash’s door.

She had no idea that Cash Fraser had many women come to his office. However, they were there briefly, so briefly they waited in the reception area and they were rarely offered coffee.

She also had no idea that Cash had not taken a single one of them on a business trip.

She also had no idea that his expense report for Germany had been gossiped about at length by a motor mouth in the finance department. Fuelled as well by the pictures in the papers, interest about Cash and Abby was running rampant.

Therefore, she had no idea that the traffic in the hall outside Cash’s open office door while she stood pondering his desire to have her there early was far heavier than normal.

Emma brought her coffee, chit chatted with Abby for a few minutes and then explained she had to get to her desk.

She had to do this because Emma knew that Cash would not be pleased if she chit chatted with his glamorous new girlfriend in his office instead of doing the work he paid her to do. She also did this because she could not wait to call motor mouth Jade in the finance department and tell her that this one was actually nice.

Abby had taken a few sips of coffee and had come to no conclusions why Cash would want her there early when Cash walked in.

His eyes never leaving her, he went straight to his desk, tossed a file and his pen on it and both skidded several inches across the mess before coming to a stop.

Abby watched this and her gaze went back to Cash. “You’re fond of throwing things, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer but she watched him grin as he came to the side of the desk and rested a thigh against it, crossing his arms on his chest.

She walked to him, putting her coffee cup on a coaster she could just see from under some papers.

She motioned to his desk and remarked, “I’m surprised. You aren’t very organised.”

“Moira has a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist,” he replied and, as she was now within reaching distance, his hands came to her waist and he pulled her closer, his arms circling her. “I made her stay home until Monday.”

Abby’s head tilted to the side. “Made her?”

“She wanted to come back to work yesterday.”

Abby was surprised at this news. Moira had only just had her accident.

She lifted her hands and rested them on his chest, leaning into his strong body and tilting her head back further to look up at him.

“She’s a workaholic, like you,” Abby guessed.

“She gets off on the hunt, like me,” Cash returned.

A weird thrill shot through her at his words.

“The hunt?” Abby asked, not quite able to hide her curiosity and his head dipped down so he could touch his mouth to hers.

Then he offered, “I’ll tell you about my work sometime.”

She was surprised at this offer. She had asked him once about his work and he’d told her it was confidential.

She wasn’t certain but she had the feeling that his offer signified something huge.

Instead of making a big deal of it, Abby teased, “If you tell me, will you have to kill me?”

“God, I hope not,” he replied on a grin, then his arms tightened, bringing her even closer and he kissed her, hard, wet and open-mouthed.

When he was done, Abby’s fingers had curled into his lapels to hold herself upright and Cash did something new. He slid his nose along the side of hers and the tenderness she felt from this was playing havoc with her heart.

She swallowed and asked, “Why did you want me to come early?”

His head moved away and she saw he was still grinning but this one was wicked.

He answered without delay, “I wanted to make out with you before they arrived.”

His intent, and the honesty with which he shared it, made her laugh. Throwing her head back, her hands slid up his chest to rest around his neck, the tips of the fingers of one hand going into his thick hair.

When she stopped laughing, her eyes caught movement, she looked around his arm and saw the door was open and someone was walking passed.

She looked back at Cash, pulled slightly away and suggested, “If you want to make out with me, maybe we should close the door.”

“No.”

At his answer, Abby’s lips parted in surprise.

“No?” she repeated.

His arms got even tighter and his face dipped close to hers again.

“No,” he said again. “I employ thirty-five staff and they’re all curious about you. Too curious. I make this statement, they’ll have something to talk about for a couple of days and they’ll get back to work.”

“Oh,” Abby said, somehow both weirded out and disappointed by his answer.

He gave her a little squeeze and went on and even though she knew it was stupid, stupid, stupid what he said next made that budding hope she experienced in her heart the night before start to take root and bloom.

“Twenty-five years ago, if you told me I’d be standing in an office like this and it would be mine, I wouldn’t have believed you.” She held her breath at his sharing of this secret and his face got closer, his voice got deeper, rougher and far, far sexier when he continued. “And if you told me I’d be holding a woman like you in my arms, I’d have told you you were mad. So, darling, I’m going to show you off any chance I get. If you don’t like that, tough. You’re going to have to get over it.”

Yes, even though it was stupid, that hope was definitely beginning to bloom.

“Cash –” she whispered, then didn’t know what to say.

So she decided to show him how his words made her feel. She got up on tiptoe, pressing his head down with her fingers in his hair and she kissed him, hard, wet and open-mouthed.

His hand slid up her back, his fingers sifted into her hair at her nape and his head slanted, deepening an already deep kiss. This made Abby’s knees give out and his arm crushed her to him as she felt her body electrify from his kiss.

Some time later from far away (but she wished it was farther, much farther) she heard a tap at the door then, when Cash didn’t stop kissing Abby, a polite cough.

Cash’s head came up and he looked over his shoulder, his voice a mild growl when he said, “Yes?”

“The others are here,” Emma told him, standing uncomfortably at the door.

“We’ll be right there,” Cash replied and Abby, peering around Cash’s body, saw Emma disappear instantly.

Cash’s arms went from around her but both his hands came up to curl on her neck.

“After this weekend, as soon as I can arrange it, we’re going on holiday,” he informed her, his brogue still a soft, effective rumble that slid across her skin.

“We are?” Abby asked, sounding dazed because she was, it was a great kiss.

“We are,” he returned. “No phones, no receptionists, no nosy neighbours, no aggravating cousins, no ghosts, just us.”

“Okay,” Abby agreed and she felt Cash’s fingers flex at her neck before he smiled.

He let her go but caught her hand and gently pulled her to the door, asking blandly, “How annoyed is this meeting going to make me?”

Abby thought about Mrs. Truman.

Then she thought there was a very good possibility (in fact, it was a certainty) that Angus would be attired in full Scottish regalia.

“Um, on a scale of one to ten?” Abby enquired and Cash stopped at the door and looked down at her. She bit the side of her lip then mumbled, “Fifteen.”

At that, he threw his head back and laughed. She felt his rich laughter go straight from her stomach, this time up, to rest close to her heart before he tugged at her hand, leading her out the door and down the hall.

And she didn’t know Cash’s laughter in his office was not unheard of, but it was also not commonplace. So that, as well as their passionate embrace, as well as what was to come, was going to be the talk of the office for the rest of the month.

They walked, hand-in-hand, down the hall and Cash stopped them when they hit reception.

Abby took one look at her motley crew and mentally groaned.

Jenny, luckily, looked like Jenny, wearing the black trousers that did great things for her behind, high-heeled black boots and a black turtleneck.

Honor was also dressed like a normal person.

Fenella, however, was wearing a pink monstrosity that was fifty years too old for her and looked like it was created to be worn to attend a tea party at a retirement home.

Mrs. Truman was wearing English Old Lady, from the tip of her felt hat with a sharp feather sticking out of it, through her boxy tweed suit, to the toes of her rubber-soled shoes.

Angus was, as Abby feared, in full kilt.

But it was Cassandra that had gone OTT looking like the rock ‘n’ roll gypsy from hell. She had a scarf wrapped tightly around her head, its fringed ends mingling with her long dark hair. She had three, thin rock ‘n’ roll scarves around her neck and yet another fringed scarf wrapped around her hips over her jeans. As an unnecessary finishing touch, she was wearing enough jewellery in her ears, around her neck, at her wrists and on her fingers to set off the metal detectors in the Pentagon thousands of miles away.

“Fucking hell,” Cash muttered under his breath and Abby looked up to see he was not amused.

“I need tea,” Mrs. Truman announced loudly.

Abby suppressed a hysterical giggle but just barely.

Cash walked forward, taking Abby with him, and his eyes went to Emma. “Is lunch set up?”

“Yes, Cash. Everything’s ready in the conference room,” Emma answered, her surprised eyes on the assemblage.

Cash led the way to the door of the conference room. As Abby walked beside him she noticed there were an awful lot of people standing around pretending to be in conversations, but surreptitiously watching what was happening in the reception area.

That’s when she started to freak out that all Cash’s employees were going to think she was a bad influence on him.

She stood beside Cash as her posse trooped into the conference room, greeting Cash and Abby as they passed. All except Angus who shook Cash’s hand so hard, Abby’s body also shook as Cash was still holding her hand.

“Angus McPherson,” he declared when he was done shaking Cash’s hand, then he puffed out his chest and boomed, “Proud to be working for ye, Cash Fraser!”

Cash stared at Angus a moment then tilted his head down to look at Abby, brows raised, and she scrunched her nose at him.

Luckily, Angus didn’t take offense to Cash’s non-greeting and headed into the conference room.

Abby started to follow but Cash halted her with a tug on her hand. She looked up at him in time to see his face disappear by her ear.

“Somehow, I think you owe me for this,” he murmured there.

Somehow, she thought he was right.

His head came back and when she caught his eyes, she winced and shrugged which, fortunately, made him grin.

When Cash and Abby entered and Cash closed the door, Abby noted they were all partaking of the buffet like they’d just come off a month-long forced fast.

When they had their plates piled high, they sat around the conference table. Cash was at the head with no food, Abby to his right and she’d decided to take her cues from him and also not load up a plate (even though the buffet looked really good, Cash didn’t do things in half-measures that was certain).

Cash didn’t waste any time and once everyone was settled he immediately asked, “Who’s in charge?”

“I am,” both Angus and Cassandra said at the same time.

“That would be me,” Mrs. Truman said over both of them.

Cash’s body stayed facing forward, just his head turned to Abby and his brows went up.

“Um,” Abby started, looked amongst the faces, trying to decide who would take the least offense then she tried to be diplomatic, “let’s say Angus as he’s had more experience with this type of thing.”

Mrs. Truman let out an affronted “humph”, Cassandra sat back smiling and Angus leaned forward happily.

Cash put both elbows on the table, linked his fingers, rested his chin on them and looked at Angus.

“Tell me your plan,” he ordered.

Angus glanced at Cassandra then said, “We’re thinking the showdown will be Saturday night.”

There was silence as Cash waited for Angus to say more.

Angus said no more.

Cash closed his eyes, pulled breath in through his nose and, when he opened his eyes again, they were aimed at Abby.

Abby pressed her lips together.

Cash’s eyes went back to Angus and he suggested with barely restrained patience, “Perhaps you’d like to fill in the blanks.”

Angus shoved an entire chicken goujon in his mouth and shifted in his seat excitedly while he chewed.

Not done chewing, he stated, “See, we’re thinking tonight, we’ll give her a chance to get settled in, not Abby, Vivianna. Make her think we’re not going to try anything. We’ll wait for Saturday night to draw her out.”

“And how is Abby going to stay safe from this evening through to tomorrow?” Cash asked.

Cassandra leaned forward. “That’s where you come in.”

Cash looked at Cassandra but didn’t speak.

It was Honor who spoke next and she informed them, “I didn’t just find Lorna’s diaries,” Cash’s eyes shifted to her and she continued. “Two of the other victims had journals in the library too. I’ve had those for years as well.”

Cassandra picked up there. “Angus, Honor and I have been studying the journals and researching the past murders. What we found is that Vivianna doesn’t appear, nor is she active, when the master of the house is with the victim. Therefore, if you stay close to her side, Abby should be safe.”

“And what if we get separated?” Cash enquired.

“You make sure she’s with Mummy,” Fenella put in.

“Nicola?” Cash asked.

“Vivianna doesn’t do anything when Mummy’s around,” Fenella told Cash.

“Do you know that for certain?” Cash queried and when Fenella looked blank, Cash turned to Cassandra. “And are you certain she won’t be active when I’m with Abby?”

“Not one hundred percent certain, no,” Angus cut in, picked up a salmon and cream cheese sandwich quarter, shoved the whole thing in his mouth and went on while chewing, “pretty certain, though.”

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.