Penmort Castle

Chapter Twenty-Nine Cash Claims Penmort, His New Family and Abby

Cash woke early, Abby’s warm, soft body a dead weight heavy against side. Her arm was draped across his midsection, her thigh thrown over his.

Last night after they made their way through an alarming amount of champagne or more accurately, the women and Angus had, Kieran and Cash stayed sober because someone had to just in case party guests, the police or any supernatural beings returned, Cash had led a drunken, giggling Abby to bed.

He’d taken off her extraordinary dress, slid her black nightgown on her body and guided her to bed.

She’d curled into him and fell asleep as if she hadn’t a care in the world however this was likely because it was less falling asleep and more passing out.

As he did every morning, Cash gave himself a moment to experience the intensely pleasant, peaceful feeling of Abby in bed at his side before he carefully moved away, trying not to disturb her.

The minute she lost purchase on his body, her arms snagged his pillow and she curled around it. There was something moving about her doing that every morning when Cash left her side but he didn’t give himself time to dwell.

Cash nabbed his dressing gown, shrugged it on, tightened the belt and walked from the room, soundlessly closing the door behind him.

He went directly to the kitchens where a woman named Jane, who he knew did the cooking for the castle, was sitting on a stool reading the paper and sipping coffee.

The minute she saw Cash, she jerked straight and jumped from the stool.

“Mr. Fraser,” she murmured, “you’re an early bird. No one is ever up this early. It’s always just me.” Then she blathered on nervously, “I come in early to get myself sorted and because I like the castle when it’s quiet. It never feels peaceful, except in the mornings.”

Jane would, Cash hoped, find things different from this day forward.

“I’m always up this early,” Cash informed her of a fact that she would need to know as she was now in his employ. He didn’t, however, share that with her but instead requested, “Can you prepare breakfast for myself and Ms. Butler, please?”

“Of course, what would you like?” she replied.

Cash considered the question and smiled to himself when he could say with authority what Abby’s preferences were for breakfast. “Coffee, strong, and something light. Croissants and fruit.” She nodded and Cash continued. “Give it some time, half an hour or more and, if you would, please deliver it to our room.”

She nodded again and busied herself with her task. Cash watched her a moment then looked about the vast kitchens, rooms used to prepare food for his line for centuries.

Now his kitchens.

Cash smiled again and walked out of the room.

Slowly he allowed himself time to move through his home.

He strolled through the armoury, the billiard room, library, conservatory, drawing room, inner and outer halls, dining room but stopped in the study. The tips of his fingers glided across the desk, another smile forming on his lips before he turned and looked out the still dark windows of pre-dawn at the back of the desk, his brain knowing there were acres of wood and pastureland surrounding the castle beyond the tor. Land, luckily, that Alistair had not yet sold. Land, now, that Cash owned, as his father before him and his father before him and so on.

He left the study, climbed the steps and walked to the gallery. His mind did not wander to the events of the night before. Instead he walked to the light switch, flipped it on and strode directly to Alistair’s portrait.

His hands went to the frame and he lifted it, pulling it off its mount, he turned its face away and set it on the floor against the wall.

Once done with this task, Cash turned to the alcove where his father’s portrait hung. He took hold of it and moved it to the gallery proper. He hooked it on the mount which had held Alistair’s portrait and straightened it, stepping back to make certain it was positioned properly.

Even though it was half the size of Alistair’s pretentious painting, it looked far more like it belonged where it was.

Studying his father’s image, Cash again did not let his mind wander to the night before. As with most everything else that happened last night, he’d process it with Abby when the time was right.

Instead he felt something settle in him, as if the small task of switching paintings was a far more grand and important feat than wresting his legacy out of the hands of a man who’d abuse his family and commit fratricide.

Cash considered this feeling and realised what he felt was justice.

He walked through the room, turned out the lights and headed to his and Abby’s room.

As he moved through the house, Cash saw a glow coming from the sewing room. The door was open and he stopped in it to see Nicola, her face free of makeup, the heels of her feet up on edge of a plush armchair, hair loose around her shoulders, arms wrapped around her calves, body enveloped in a soft throw, eyes staring unseeing out the dark window.

She looked, Cash thought, twenty years younger.

Her expression in profile was not sad nor was it troubled.

It was hopeful.

“Nicola,” Cash murmured.

He watched her jump and her eyes flew to him.

“Cash,” she whispered but she didn’t move.

Cash walked in. “You’re up early.”

She smiled up at him as he came within a few feet of her chair. Still she didn’t move.

“I haven’t slept,” she told him.

“I’m sorry,” Cash said.

“I’m not,” she replied.

Seeing she was going to remain in her casual pose instead of assuming the role of courteous hostess per usual, Cash moved away from her. Her demonstration of casualness and familiarity, Cash noted incidentally, was something he enjoyed.

He sat on the arm of the chair opposite her.

“A great deal happened last night,” he remarked watching her closely for signs of post-traumatic stress.

Her hand came out from under the throw and she waved it in front of her.

“That,” she stated, “Fenella, Suzanne and Honor filled me in last night.” She grinned at him in a way she’d never done before. Her grin was filled with her usual friendliness but now also had an easy openness that was something else Cash decided he liked.

It was then the sharp realisation hit him as to just how guarded she’d been, likely due to necessity, when Alistair had been around.

“Last night,” Cash said, his voice had grown deeper, “what I said about you and the girls staying here, I meant it.”

Her hand disappeared under the throw and he saw her pulling it tighter.

“I know, dear,” she mumbled, her eyes moving back to the window, “but we couldn’t.”

“You can,” Cash asserted and her gaze came back to him.

“You’re very kind, but we couldn’t.” When Cash opened his mouth to speak she shook her head. “I don’t know where we’re going but we can’t stay here with you.”

“Why not?” Cash asked and he watched her expression turn confused.

“I… well,” she hesitated then continued, “you and Abby will want some time to –”

Cash cut her off. “Yes we will.”

The confusion left her face, she nodded and her lips tipped up at the ends. “So, we’ll go.”

“No,” Cash returned, “you’ll all stay at my home in Bath for a few months. Then you and the girls, if they haven’t moved on, will come home.”

“Cash,” she started.

“Nicola, I’m not arguing about this.”

“We can’t,” she said more forcefully, her heels coming off the edge of the chair and she leaned toward him.

“Of course you can,” Cash retorted firmly. “You’re family.”

At his words Nicola pulled in a sharp breath and her eyes widened in what looked a good deal like wonder.

Cash decided to take that as the end of the discussion and stood, declaring, “It’s decided.”

Nicola stood with him, clutching the throw to her shoulders.

When he made a move to the door, her hand came out from under the throw and Cash stopped.

“Since Robbie,” she started, her voice cracked and she stopped.

Cash waited, knowing Robert Fitzhugh was her first husband, a man who died young after a valiant but ugly and ultimately unsuccessful battle with cancer.

Cash watched Nicola swallow, take in a deep breath and then she said in a stronger voice, “After Robbie, I messed up. I kidded myself for years but since he died, well, since he died, we haven’t had a real family.”

“You do know,” Cash returned and he saw tears fill her eyes. He also saw the hope come back and some joy but there was also sadness.

It was the sadness that cut through him like a razor.

“You miss him still,” Cash noted gently and he saw pain cross her face.

“Every day,” she whispered.

That was precisely, after watching Abby with Ben last night, what Cash didn’t want to hear.

Clearly, with her next words, Nicola read Cash’s face as well.

“She will too,” Nicola said softly, her eyes tender on Cash even as her words scored his soul. Nicola carried on. “But since she now has you, it’ll be like she misses her parents. People she loves but who’re now lost. She’ll never stop loving him but she’s a sweet girl with a lot of love to give and a lot of life in front of her.” Nicola moved forward, her hand caught Cash’s and squeezed. “Cash, my dearest, she’ll always love him but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of love to give to you.”

For some reason unknown to him, Cash confided, “I don’t like to share.”

Nicola laughed softly while giving his hand another squeeze before dropping it.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” she commented then said sagely, “however I figure you’ll decide you can, even if you don’t like it.”

He hated to admit it but he knew she was not wrong.

He grinned down at her as he lifted his hand to her face, his thumb sliding across her still smooth cheek. It was a gesture twenty-four hours ago he would never have made and likely she would not have accepted.

Now, however, she turned her face into his hand and smiled.

Witnessing her unguarded beauty Cash thought not for the first time that his uncle was the greatest of fools.

He dropped his hand and muttered, “Do you want me to go down and order you some coffee?”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it in a minute.”

Cash nodded and moved away, glancing back at the door to see her resume her seat. She pulled her feet back up on its edge, a position he instinctively knew she’d taken thousands of times in the past and she would have the opportunity to assume thousands more times in the future.

Yes, he thought, justice.

He continued down the hall and was passing Suzanne’s door when it was yanked open, Cash’s hand was caught and he was pulled roughly into the room.

Cash’s body froze, it turned, he gritted his teeth and his eyes sliced to Suzanne.

She’d closed the door and was standing in front of it wearing nothing but a short, revealing peach nightgown edged with beige lace and a matching short dressing gown which was hanging open widely, leaving very little to the imagination.

He was disappointed her brief demonstration of humanity last night didn’t last long. He also had every intention of removing her bodily from the door if he had to.

“Suzanne, move out of my way,” he demanded.

“Five minutes, Cash,” she requested softly and his eyes drilled into hers.

He saw with vague surprise there was no malice or spitefulness nor any deviousness. Her blue eyes were open, warm and entreating and he thought she’d never looked prettier.

“Five minutes,” she repeated on a whispered plea.

Cash planted his feet and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Five minutes,” he agreed on an unhappy growl.

She opened her mouth then closed it. She opened it again then closed it.

She looked away and lifted her hand, fingers sifting through her hair at her forehead, pulling it away from her face in an uncertain and even endearing way that reminded him of Abby.

Her eyes came back to his. “This isn’t easy for me to say.”

“Whatever it is you have four minutes and thirty seconds to say it.”

She grabbed the edges of her dressing gown and wrapped them tightly around her body.

She sucked in her lips and then spoke so quickly it was as if she didn’t get it all out as fast as she could, she would lose the ability to speak for the rest of her life.

“When I was a kid, I thought Vivianna was my friend. She liked me. She talked to me. She was always there when Alistair was mean to me. She always made me feel better.” Her arms wrapped tighter around her body as she kept going. “She’d tell me stories about the Beaumaris men, their beauty, their virility, their honour, pride, stubbornness, confidence, arrogance. Cash, she had hundreds of stories about the masters of this castle, hundreds of romantic stories about generation after generation of men she loved.”

Cash misread her meaning and stated, “Vivianna is gone, Suzanne.”

“I know and I won’t miss her,” Suzanne replied swiftly. “What I’m saying is a little girl who lost her father finds herself in a big, creepy castle with a stepdad who’s a git. To a girl like that, those stories were…” she hesitated and continued on a whisper, “those stories meant the world to me.” Cash remained silent and Suzanne carried on in a voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear her. “Then you came to visit.”

The realisation of what she was saying was so profound Cash’s body jerked with it. His tone was gentle when he murmured, “Suzanne.

She cut him off. “I’ve been in love with you since I was nine years old.”

Cash sighed. This he did not need.

“It’s okay,” Suzanne said hurriedly. “All this, all I’ve done these past months wasn’t because I loved you. Well, not entirely or at least not the way you’d think.”

“Suzanne –” Cash started again but she was back to speaking swiftly.

“It was because Vivianna told me about Alistair. It was because she knew you were the real master of this castle, that she knew he’d murdered Anthony and she knew he’d try to murder you. I behaved the way I behaved to you, and then Abby, to drive you away.”

Cash’s body froze at learning this knowledge but Suzanne didn’t notice and she carried on.

“I wanted to make it so unpleasant for you that you’d give up whatever it was you were doing all of a sudden reconciled with Alistair.” She started to take a step closer to Cash but thought better of it and stopped. “She was in the room, Cash. Vivianna was, when Abby walked in that first time. You weren’t there, she wasn’t allowing herself to be seen but I felt it the minute Abby walked in. I saw Abby, I felt Vivianna’s wrath and I knew, I absolutely knew Vivianna meant her harm. Before dinner I did what I could both to make you angry and Abby uncomfortable enough to go but you didn’t. After dinner I got out of there the first chance I could, went to my room and acted out a crying rage which was when she normally would visit me. I hoped she’d come to me instead of doing anything to Abby.” She paused, took in a breath, and went on. “She didn’t come. She hurt Abby instead.”

Cash watched as Suzanne closed her eyes and then opened them.

They focused on Cash and he saw the pain there before she whispered, “I know you don’t like me and I know the reason you don’t like me is because of the way I behaved but I had to do something, didn’t I?”

Her tone was so uncertain, so un-Suzanne, Cash didn’t know what to make of her. He’d known the woman in front of him for a year (twenty-four of them, if you counted when he’d visited in his teens) but he’d never met her.

“You should have said something,” Cash told her brusquely.

She shook her head and looked away. “Right,” she muttered and turned to him again talking now in a high, sarcastic voice. “Um, Cash, you know, your uncle killed your Dad and I’m guessing you’re next. Oh, and by the way, I know that because a ghost told me and she’s a nasty piece of work who wants to do harm to your girlfriend.” She paused before asking irritably, “Is that what I should have said?”

“Suzanne –” Cash began but her expression changed to one with which he was far more familiar.

She moved toward him but not to him. She began to walk right by him muttering, “I knew I shouldn’t have bothered.”

But Cash’s hand came up and grasped her arm, stopping her.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed and cruel, and he warned, “Don’t go back to the bitch, Suzanne.”

“The bitch works for me, Cash,” she spat. “Trust me, I know, I’ve had twenty-five years of perfecting her.”

His voice softened and he watched her head jerk as her face paled when he said, “I’m sorry about that,” Cash let her go but got closer, tipping his chin down to look at her, he finished, “but you don’t need her anymore. Let her go.”

He could tell she was holding onto the bitch but only barely when she replied sharply, “It’s not that easy.”

“No,” Cash agreed, “probably not. But the woman who helped Abby and me last night, and the one I saw a few minutes ago, is someone I’d like to get to know. The one standing in front of me right now is one I never want to see again.”

She stared and he watched her force a painful swallow.

She didn’t speak.

So Cash did.

“Thank you for trying to protect me,” he said quietly and with feeling.

Her mouth dropped open then she snapped it shut then she stammered, “I… um, you’re welcome.”

“You’re a bright woman, Suzanne,” he muttered. “You’ll find your way.”

She stared up at him, silent.

He decided their conversation was finished and moved toward the door.

He halted and turned back when she called his name.

She had her dressing gown wrapped tight around her again and Cash thought she looked very young and very scared but even so, she had the courage to say, “I’m glad you’re safe.” He nodded and moved to open the door but he turned back when she kept talking. “And I hope you’ll be happy.” She hesitated then said, “With Abby. I like her. She’s a bit mad but she’s tough and very sweet.”

She ended on a whisper and Cash watched as pink stained her cheeks when he smiled at her, something he wasn’t certain he’d ever done.

Without another word he exited her room, closing the door softly. He moved down the hall hoping that he could make it to his and Abby’s rooms without Fenella, Honor, Jenny, Kieran, Cassandra, Angus or, God forbid, Mrs. Truman (all of whom spent the night) waylaying him.

He didn’t succeed.

As he was passing the third door from his, it opened.

Cash stopped and turned to see Cassandra standing in the doorway. Her long, dark hair was down and tousled from sleep. She wore a pair of drawstring, flannel shorts and a tight camisole likely borrowed from Honor as Cassandra was far too curvy to fit in anything Fenella or Suzanne owned.

She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, crossed her arms on her chest and rested her heel against the side of her opposite ankle.

“I’m sorry, Cash but we did what we had to do,” Cassandra said quietly.

He knew to what she was referring, bringing back his grandmother, his father and, mostly, Ben.

Cash crossed his own arms on his chest. “You knew the circle wasn’t going to work,” he remarked.

She nodded. “Both Angus and I had our doubts. Vivianna was strong and she was smart. She’d know about the circle and she’d know how to defeat it.”

“You had it planned all along,” Cash said and watched her nod again.

“We tried the circle because we didn’t want to use Ben if we didn’t have to. But we knew we’d need to be prepared to throw everything at her. Abby didn’t want her cat involved but we brought Zee along too, just in case. Angus came up with the spell and I activated it, pulling back the veil and recruiting the trinity, one Vivianna had wronged, your grandmother; a past master, your father; and a protector of the innocent, Ben. All of them together, as well as Zee, who’s a powerful little thing, worked. They sucked her power, kept her visible so she couldn’t dematerialise and their presence rooted her so she couldn’t move.”

It was Cash’s turn to nod and Cassandra continued.

“You should know there was another way. A potion Abby could take to fight her. We could have waited six months and gone after her.”

Cash’s body got tight and he declared, “I wouldn’t have allowed that.”

She grinned and replied, “I figured that.” Then her voice dropped low. “Furthermore, as much as Abby was prepared to do it, I reckon Vivianna would have made mincemeat of her. When Angus found out I’d even mentioned the potion to Abby, he went off on one. Of course, we didn’t know at the time that you had any power over her.”

This surprised Cash. Angus had not seemed hesitant to put Abby in the line of fire. Apparently he was only happy to do so if he had Abby’s back and felt in control of the situation, something he would not be if Abby had been in the position of going head-to-head with Vivianna.

Cassandra kept talking, again in her low quiet voice, her eyes had grown intense as they studied Cash’s face. “You should also know, when we made contact with your father, he wanted to come early. He wanted to spend time with you in the castle.” Her arms came uncrossed, she took a step forward, put her hand on Cash’s bicep and informed him, “It was a grave risk, Cash. The longer he was away from the other plane, the less likely it was we could return him there. If we didn’t get him back in time, he’d be stuck here for eternity. Says a lot about him, that he’d take that risk and why he took it, also says a lot about how he feels about you.”

Cash clenched his teeth against the feelings this statement sent surging through him, not wishing to share them with Cassandra, who he liked well enough, but not enough to engage in an intensely private moment.

Instead he felt an overwhelmingly strong desire to get to Abby.

Cassandra took pity and finished, dropping her hand from his arm. “As for Vivianna never appearing in front of Nicola, we don’t know why. Lorna nor Anthony understood it either. I suppose that will just have to remain a mystery.”

Cash nodded again as she took a step back, his voice was deeper than normal when he said, “Thank you.”

She awarded him with a bright smile, suggesting she’d enjoyed every minute of her endeavours because in the end, they’d been successful. “My pleasure.”

Then she took another step back and closed the door.

Cash turned to his room. When he made it safely to the end of the corridor Jane, the cook, was bustling down the hall balancing a silver tray.

“I’ll get that,” Cash said, divesting her of the tray and he put his other hand to the knob. “Mrs. Fitzhugh is in the sewing room, she’ll be needing coffee.”

Jane blinked at him and asked, “Which Ms. Fitzhugh?” When Cash didn’t immediately reply, she hurried on. “I only ask because Suzanne is kind of funny about her coffee.”

“Nicola Fitzhugh,” Cash replied and watched her eyes go round. Deciding she’d likely hear it soon enough, he might as well tell her, “Jane, I’ve foreclosed on the house. Ms. Butler and I’ll be moving in imminently. Mr. Beaumaris won’t be back. The Fitzhugh women, however, will be staying.”

She stared at him, mouth open, stunned speechless.

Then she made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like strangled laughter. At the sound, her eyes bugged out in horror and she choked back her mirth.

“Sorry, sorry, erm, sorry sir, I’m just shocked,” she stuttered but although her nerves weren’t gone, her eyes were bright and cheerful.

She was, Cash knew, lying.

She wasn’t shocked. She was happy. She disliked Alistair. She also probably liked Nicola.

Cash wasn’t surprised and he smiled. “It’s all right, Jane, he was an ass.”

She was now staring at his mouth and he watched her cheeks get pink.

“Jane,” he called and she snapped out of it with a jerk. “Coffee,” he reminded her, “for Nicola.”

“Right, right,” she muttered moving away, lifting her arms and waving her hands at the side of her head. “I’m on it.”

“One more thing,” Cash halted her, Jane turned and Cash finished. “I’m not ‘Mr. Fraser’ nor am I ‘sir’. You call me Cash.”

She gawked at him, eyes wide, face aflame, before she nodded, her mouth forming a smile and she began her retreat.

He watched her move down the hall then he opened the door and entered.

Abby lay motionless under the covers.

The black circle of Zee lay ensconced at the back of her bent knees.

Cash moved across the dark room, placed the tray on the table between the two armchairs in the turret and turned on the standing lamp there. Soft light filled the space.

He walked to the bed and bent at Zee, his fingers sifting through the cat’s silky soft fur. Zee lifted his head with a sleepy mew.

“You get gourmet wet cat food for the rest of your life,” Cash muttered to the cat and, as if Zee understood, he let out a stronger but still sleepy mew and stretched his neck to press into Cash’s fingers which were scratching behind his ears.

With a final stroke for Zee, Cash moved away to sit in the curve of Abby’s lap afforded by her position curled around his pillow. He looked at the bedside clock and noticed it was nearly seven.

Obviously, he’d slept in.

His eyes moved back to Abby and he pulled her hair off her neck then rested his hand there.

“Darling,” he called but she didn’t move.

He gave her neck a gentle squeeze and repeated his endearment.

She shifted slightly, her eyes opened and only they moved to him. She kept her face nuzzled in the pillow.

He thought, somewhat distractedly, that she looked rather adorable.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to work,” she grumbled sleepily.

“I’m not going to work.”

She closed her eyes. “Good, come back to bed.”

He would, he knew, be delighted to do that.

Later.

However they had to talk first.

“Abby, we have to talk.”

Her eyes opened immediately but this time her head turned.

“About what?” she asked, her voice sexy and husky but there was an edge of alertness to it.

“Get up, love, this is an awake and functioning talk,” he told her.

“I don’t want an awake and functioning talk,” she returned. “I want to sleep and be awake and functioning on Thursday,” she closed her eyes again muttering, “maybe Friday.”

His voice held a gentle warning when he said, “Abby.”

She pulled in a deep breath and then let it out in a heavy sigh before she came up on an elbow, lifted a hand and pulled her hair from her face.

He noticed that he hadn’t thought to take her jewellery off last night and he felt a powerful sensation strike him at the vision of her in bed, hair dishevelled, face grumpy and sleepy, wearing the silk and diamonds he’d given her.

“All right,” she gave in, cutting into his thoughts.

Cash stood, she threw back the covers and he walked to the turret. He decided if she didn’t notice he’d not remind her that she was walking around barefoot in a nightgown, wearing tens of thousands of pounds worth of diamonds.

Instead he poured coffee in delicate china cups, adding milk to Abby’s, taking his black with a sugar.

She’d donned her cashmere dressing gown and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail when he turned and handed her the cup and saucer. She sipped at it as he sipped at his. Then he sat in one of the chairs. Abby began to move to the other one but he caught her wrist, leaned to the side, deposited his cup and saucer on the tray and carefully pulled her in his lap so as to not spill her coffee.

She held her body stiff, not a thing like the warm and pliant Abby who snuggled close to him two nights before.

Cash knew, instantly, even after her avowals of love in front of her husband, his family and even her fucking cat, that this conversation was not going to go as he’d hoped.

“What do we need to talk about?” she asked guardedly, keeping her eyes on her cup as she sipped again.

“Our future,” he replied and at his words she choked and spluttered.

When she got herself under control, her eyes moved to his.

He watched her breathe looking like this wasn’t an easy, natural task

Finally she whispered, “Yes, I agree. We need to talk about our future.”

“You start,” Cash demanded, wanting to hear what he was up against right away so he could tear it apart, explain the way it actually was, take her straight back to bed and fuck her so hard she’d still feel him inside her on Thursday.

Maybe Friday.

She didn’t argue as he expected.

She nodded, leaned forward, put her cup and saucer on the tray and sat back, folding her hands in her lap and continuing to hold her body stiffly.

Then her eyes turned to his. “I’m sorry I fell in love with you.”

Cash felt his lips part in surprise.

That, of all things, he did not expect to hear.

She had these last weeks, apologised for a number of bizarre things but this was by far and away the most bizarre.

“Sorry?” he asked.

She waved her hand in the air and repeated, “I’m sorry I fell in love with you. I wasn’t going to tell you but I didn’t want you to believe Vivianna. It was stupid, I should have let you believe what she was saying but I didn’t want you to. I don’t know why.”

“Abby –” he began but she talked over him.

“Jenny told me last night about your talk.” When he opened his mouth, she waved her hand in the air again and said, “It’s okay. I’m okay with it. I mean, I’m not, like, at all, but I have to be, don’t I?” She didn’t let him answer and went on. “I like what we have. No, I love what we have and I’d be really happy to stay this way for as long as you want. But Jenny reminded me I’m kind of weird in that I get attached, as in really attached, and she’s right.” She took a deep breath and Cash thought he had his chance to speak but she got there before him. “Even though, you know, I love you and everything, I think it’s best if we just move on. End it. Now. I don’t want it to be messy for you and I’m sure you don’t want that either. I mean, it’s better for you this way, trust me.”

Cash’s arms moved around her and he pulled her closer to his chest, deeper into his lap.

She didn’t notice this and kept right on talking. “And I’m being kind of selfish. I don’t want it to be messy either and I don’t want to get more attached, if you know what I mean.”

He tried to cut in. “Abby –”

He failed as she rattled on. “So a clean break now would be good. I mean, not good but better for all concerned. You’ve got your castle and Alistair got what he deserved and Vivianna is in hell so all’s well in The World of Cash. Which will make me feel a bit, you know, more okay with everything, knowing it’s all good for you.”

She stopped on a sharp breath that hitched in the middle and he realised she was close to tears, her body stiff and tight. Her eyes not meeting his were bright and she was, lastly but most importantly, completely full of shit with this whole act.

He wanted to laugh.

He didn’t.

He also wanted to kiss her.

Something else he didn’t do.

Instead, he said softly, “Darling, look at me.”

Her gaze came to his face but not to his eyes.

“Look at me, Abby,” he repeated.

He watched her teeth clench then her eyes lifted to his.

When their eyes caught, he asked, “Are you finished?”

She bit her lip, he felt his own lips twitch then she nodded and said, “I think so.”

“Good, I’m talking now,” he declared.

Her eyes went funny, guarded and surprised and something else, something he couldn’t read.

“Oh… kay,” she replied hesitantly.

Cash didn’t delay.

“I’m in love with you,” he announced and her mouth dropped open but he went on. “We’re not over. We’re never going to be over. There isn’t going to be an end. This is it, you and me, in Penmort, you wearing diamonds and silk and having coffee delivered to our bedroom every morning.”

“Cash –” she whispered, eyes wide, face pale, expressions clashing between shock and awe.

“I’m not done,” Cash stated and pressed on, “I know you still love Ben. I’m not going to pretend I like it but I will try to live with it.”

“Cash –”

“Abby, stop interrupting me.”

“Okay,” she whispered and he felt her body start to soften in his arms and he knew he was getting somewhere.

“You were right last night, it’s early. We’ll take some time, learn more about each other. Not much but we’ll do it. Then we’ll get married, have children and live happily ever after, if you don’t annoy me too much.” She gasped but he ignored it and continued. “I’ve spoken to Nicola this morning and she and her daughters are going to give us a few months. They’ll stay in Bath then move back here. I’m sure you’ll agree they’ll be welcome here for as long as they wish to stay.”

“Of course,” Abby mumbled.

Cash kept going. “I want you to know I’m not only fine with you becoming more attached to me, I want it and you’re going to give it to me. I want you so attached you can’t imagine a life without me. I don’t give a fuck if that’s selfish, that’s what I want because, Abby, you must know, I already can’t imagine life without you.”

He stopped talking and watched as the brightness in her eyes became wetness shimmering at their edges. One tear dropped to her cheek and slid down her face.

Cash watched its progress.

Finally she whispered, “Are you done?”

Cash’s eyes went from her lone tear back to hers.

“Yes,” he replied.

She was still whispering, nearly breathless, when she asked, “Are you sure, about what you said?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“I thought –” Her breath caught audibly, it sounded painful and Cash drew her yielding body closer, tucking her deep into the protective fold of his arms as another tear slid down her cheek. She sucked in air, her hands coming up to rest on his chest and with visible effort she continued. “I thought it was stupid to hope.”

“Hope for what?” he asked softly even though he knew the answer.

She didn’t give him that answer instead she whispered, “I thought it was selfish.”

“What was selfish, darling?”

“To have something so good, so wonderful, with Ben.” His body grew tight but her hand moved to rest on his face and she admitted, “It was stupid to hope, selfish to want something even better, something that felt magical, something I thought I had with you.”

An overwhelming sense of triumph coursed through him and Cash again wanted to kiss her. This time it felt like a need rather than a desire.

Instead he confirmed decisively, “You have it.”

Her face came close.

She rested her forehead against his, her nose alongside his, her eyes open and looking deeply into his, she whispered, “I know.”

It was then Cash surged out of the chair. Taking her with him, he carried her to bed.

There, he fucked her so hard it was likely she still felt him inside her on Thursday.

However, he’d never know, since he fucked her Wednesday night as well as every night in between.

And some mornings besides.