This man was a man on the move, a man with energy, a man with a healthy appetite for life. So healthy, he seized it by its throat and consumed it.
How the artist captured it, Abby had no idea. He was striding across a field, Penmort resting grandly atop its tor in the distance. He had two dogs at his heels, beautiful German Shepherds. He was in outdoor clothing, tweed blazer with patches at the arms, boots over his trousers, mud up the heels and ankles. He had broad shoulders, an athletic build and you could tell he had a wide, strong gait, made easy for him by having long legs. He held a shotgun, cocked open and lying over his forearm, the gun butt tucked into his side.
The picture was in profile, but the man was looking over his shoulder as if someone had called him, or, perhaps, he was calling his dogs. Therefore, the artist had been able to capture him full-face.
And he was heart-stoppingly handsome.
On closer inspection, he didn’t look just like Cash. There were subtle differences. His forehead was broader, for one. He wore his hair shorter, for another. The planes and angles of his face were harder and sharper, but no less attractive.
But the similarity was uncanny.
“Who is that?” Abby asked.
“Anthony Beaumaris,” Fenella answered and Abby’s body jerked at the realisation she was gazing upon Cash’s father.
“My God,” she breathed and she felt her chest constrict at the knowledge that this man, this compelling, dynamic, striking man had had his life cut short.
Something made her lift her hand as if to touch the portrait, as if touching it would mean she’d touch him, but when her finger was just centimetres away, the scream began.
And it was just as Honor described it. It was low, it was eerie and it was sinister.
Abby’s blood ran cold.
Her hand dropped and she turned wide eyes to Fenella and breathed, “What is that?” even though she knew what it was.
Exactly what it was.
“Go,” Fenella whispered in a barely-there voice.
Abby blinked at her. “Pardon?”
But Fenella was looking over Abby’s shoulder, her face pale, her eyes frightened and she shrieked, “Go now!”
Abby whirled then froze when she saw Vivianna in the gallery, floating, the tattered edges of her dress whipping around her viciously as if they were in a frenzy, as if they could do harm. Her mouth was opened emitting a scream that filled the very air. Her face was bloodthirsty.
Her eyes were on Abby.
“Go!” Fenella screamed and Abby went.
She hadn’t been stupid. This time she wore jeans and flats with rubber soles, good for gripping and easy to run in.
And Abby ran. She ran for dear life.
She skirted Vivianna and made it out the door, to the hall and was flying down the stairs, her breath coming in terrified pants, when Vivianna formed in front of her.
Right in front of her.
And Abby, to her shock, ran into her like she was a solid, physical thing.
And to her further stunned surprise, a burst of purple sparks shot out between them, coming from the place where the amulet rested against Abby’s chest.
Both Abby and Vivianna flew backward. Abby, landing painfully on her hands, Vivianna, arms wheeling and out-of-control, descended away from Abby going nearly all the way down the flight of stairs.
Vivianna halted her descent. She bent her head and looked at what appeared to be a burn mark on her dress where Abby’s amulet had hit her.
Her head shot up, her eyes narrowed on Abby, she opened her mouth and let out another blood-chilling scream.
Then she shot forward, straight toward Abby but Abby scrambled back up the steps, crawling on all fours like a crab.
Even though Abby moved, and fast, Vivianna was nearly on top of her when the spirit was jerked back at the waist, her scream abruptly halting.
“That’s it, she-bitch, The McPherson has come to play!” Angus bellowed from a dozen steps away. His hand held a strange whip, the end of it was curled around Vivianna’s waist, he was reeling her in and Vivianna was struggling against the bounds.
“Go lassie, I got her,” Angus called.
“Abby! This way!” Fenella shouted from the top of the stairs and Abby turned, crawling up the stairs on all fours again, stumbling in a terrified frenzy so she was sometimes using her knees and sometimes her feet.
She got to the top of the stairs and they heard a grunt. Honor was there too and Abby, Fenella and Honor looked over the balustrade and down the stairs to see Angus falling, his kilt awhirl, Vivianna drifting after him.
“Angus!” Abby screamed, not thinking and running toward the fallen Scotsman.
When she turned on the landing, she saw Angus was at the bottom, on his side, his head came up and he boomed, “No, lassie! Go the other way!”
But Abby kept moving toward him and Vivianna came at her again. They collided, the purple sparks flew and Vivianna reeled back. Apparently aided by the velocity Abby was going, this time Vivianna went far further, sailing down the stairs, past Angus, into and through the inner hall and right through a wall.
Abby, however, had been ready for it and when they collided, she shoved her foot into the stairwell to keep herself steady and then threw herself forward. She descended the rest of the stairs and crouched by Angus.
“Are you hurt?” she asked as she heard Fenella and Honor come rumbling down the stairs behind her.
“Get her outta here!” Angus roared.
“Are you hurt?” Abby shouted.
“Let’s go. Go, go, go, go, go!” Honor yelled, pulling Abby up but Vivianna had melted back through the wall and was nearly upon them.
Abby’s hand went to the leather around her neck. She yanked the necklace over her head, threw it to the ground and stomped on it with her heel.
A purple mist immediately blew up, enveloping them. Abby bent low, her hands grasping Angus under his armpit, she tugged up with superhuman effort, got him to his feet and the four of them ran, awkwardly, through the inner hall, into the outer hall, out the entrance lobby and into the night. The whole time they ran, the purple mist followed them.
And they kept running, Abby dragging Angus, until they’d gone out the gate at the side of the castle, down the steep hill, through the castle’s outer wall, down a winding path into town and past several storefronts. Once they hit town, the mist evaporated.
There, Angus pulled Abby to a halt and stopped, bent over, hand to his side, and wheezed.
“Are you okay?” Abby asked, crouching low and looking up at him.
“Lassie,” he rasped, took in a deep breath, then panted, “when I say go,” he took in another breath and gasped, “you better bloody well go!”
They heard running steps and Cassandra approached, stopping on a skid.
Abby stood up and Cassandra’s eyes fell on her, dropping immediately to her sweater.
“What happened?” she asked.
“She attacked,” Fenella told Cassandra.
Cassandra looked at Angus. “Did you get her?”
“No I didn’t get her,” Angus snapped, straightening. “The she-bitch bested me,” he looked mortified for a moment then bellowed, “She bested A McPherson!”
“Be quiet,” Honor hissed, “we’re in town.”
Abby turned to Cassandra and announced, slowly, clearly and loudly, “Your… amulet… rocked!”
Cassandra leaned back, put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Did the trick, eh?”
“It rocked!” Abby repeated, incapable of further speech.
“I’m good with a charm,” Cassandra informed her.
“Well, you better make sure we all have some,” Angus announced. “Vivianna knows she’s met her match. She might have been surprised Abby had magic tonight, but she’ll no’ make that mistake again.”
Abby looked at Fenella and Honor, her shoulders drooping, and she muttered, “Great.”
“Don’t worry. I have some other tricks up my sleeve,” Ca
ssandra said so confidently, Abby actually believed her.
Then, to her surprise, Angus grinned at Abby, “Lucky for you, lass, now I know what I’m up against. And The McPhersons got more tricks than a spirit-bitch-from-hell, believe you me.”
Fenella got close and put her arm around Abby’s waist. “Well that sounds good, doesn’t it?” she asked.
Abby, who would vastly prefer not to be battling a ghost and that night she’d learned exactly what that meant and it petrified her, had to admit Fenella was right.
* * * * *
It didn’t occur to Abby, until she quietly closed and locked Cash’s front door, that she’d forgotten to phone him when she left the castle.
This wasn’t surprising, considering she was freaked out when she’d left the castle. And this freak out meant she had to concentrate on her driving and, therefore, she hadn’t thought to call Cash. Instead, her thoughts had centred on getting home in one piece.
It wouldn’t do to survive Vivianna only to die in a tragic car accident.
Although it was late, the castle more than an hour’s drive away, she wasn’t surprised to see no light shining from upstairs but a light coming from the back hall.
This indicated Cash was downstairs, likely working, maybe drinking a whisky, maybe getting concerned (or more likely angry) waiting for her call.
She took off her coat and soundlessly hooked it on the banister with her purse and she headed downstairs.
Her shoes were quiet, the rubber soles making no noise.
This was how she could get through the house and down the stairs without Cash hearing.
Or, more to the point, this was how she could get through the house and down the stairs without Cash and Suzanne hearing.
For Suzanne was there.
Abby knew this because, four steps from the bottom, she turned her head and she saw them in the kitchen.
She saw them in the kitchen, embracing.
More than embracing.
One of Suzanne’s arms was locked around Cash’s neck, her other hand in his hair, her body was pressed to his. His hands were gripping her waist just above her hips. Her lips were on his, his were on hers and both of their mouths were open.
Abby felt her heart clench as her stomach lurched and neither of these felt good.
In any way.
So, unfortunately, when she spoke, her voice held a fierce tremor that betrayed her emotion when she asked what was supposed to come out coolly, “Am I interrupting something?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Abby Tells Cash
At the sound of her voice, Cash threw Suzanne away from him and Abby watched as she flew several steps back, her hands going behind her, she collided with the counter.
Her eyes went to Abby and her expression could only be described as smug.
Then Abby heard Cash ask bitingly, “Where the fuck have you been?”
Abby’s gaze shot to Cash and he was standing, turned to her, hands on hips, staring at Abby, looking angry.
Angry.
At Abby!
Cash was angry at Abby.
Abby’s mouth dropped open.
Her eyes slid back to Suzanne whose smugness had hit the stratosphere.
Mindlessly, Abby turned and ran up the steps taking them two at a time.
She got to the upstairs banister and had her purse in her hands before strong fingers closed around her upper arm in a vicelike grip and she was yanked backwards.
Her eyes flew to Cash’s.
“Let me go!” she shouted, tugging at her arm in his grasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowed on her purse, fingers not letting her go.
She stopped struggling and yelled, “I’m leaving!”
“The hell you are,” he snapped, wrenched her purse out of her hands and threw it into the lounge.
Abby watched it sail then land on the floor then she looked back at Cash and screamed, “Would you stop throwing my stuff!”
He ignored her demand and used her arm to pull her close. “You should have been home an hour ago. Or, it would seem, you should have fucking phoned an hour ago to say you’d be home now.”
Abby saw Suzanne join them at the top of the stairs, she was pulling on her coat, flipping her hair over the collar and looking happy as a clam.
Abby’s eyes moved back to Cash and she drawled with saccharine sweetness, “I’m so sorry I didn’t give you plenty of head’s up to get rid of your kissin’ cousin before I got home.”
She watched Cash’s head jerk, his brows shot together and then his lip curled in disgust.
“You think I’m fucking around on you?” he asked, deep voice filled with incredulity then he went on, “with Suzanne?” he uttered her name like it tasted foul.
Abby looked back at Suzanne and she’d lost her smug, happy look.
Abby’s eyes clashed with Cash’s again when she accused, “I just saw you kissing her.”
“No, you just saw her kissing me,” Cash shot back instantly.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Suzanne cut in, moving toward the door and Cash turned, taking Abby with him, his hand still on her arm.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Cash clipped to Suzanne.
“I’ll look forward to that,” came Suzanne’s sultry purr.
Cash’s body went solid and the air in the room, already thick, became suffocating.
“Don’t mistake me, Suzanne,” Cash’s voice was a low, menacing warning and Abby watched as Suzanne paled.
Recovering swiftly, she offered, “I’ll let myself out.”
“You do that,” Cash stated then, dismissing Suzanne completely, he turned back to Abby and started, “As for you –”
At that, with a vicious tug Abby yanked her arm free and vaguely heard the door close behind Suzanne. She was too deep in a tizzy at all she’d experienced that night at the castle, and what she’d just seen, to proceed with caution.
She stomped around Cash and into the lounge, muttering angrily, “I cannot believe after all I went through tonight,” she bent down to pick up her purse and looked up at Cash who had followed her, “for you,” she snapped, rising, “only to come home to see you groping Suzanne.”
“Abby, I’ll repeat, I was not groping Suzanne,” Cash returned.
“Whatever!” Abby shouted, beside herself, experiencing a layering of freak outs that she couldn’t quite overcome. “How would you feel if you came home and saw me in the arms of another man?”
Cash’s eyes narrowed and his hands went to his hips. “I wouldn’t fucking like it but I would also give you the chance to fucking explain.”
“Right,” Abby snorted with disbelief. “You’d freak.”
And he would.
“I would. Then I’d give you the chance to fucking explain,” he fired back.
Abby shook her head and walked to him with the intent to walk right by him and get her coat. “I’m not talking about this. I’m going home.”
Cash’s fingers curled around her upper arm firmly, effectively halting her and when she looked up at him, he stated, “You are home.”
“My home,” she snapped back.
“Yes, darling,” he returned calmly, “your home,” then he jerked her purse out of her hand again and threw it on a chair, making his point.
She looked at her purse and something came over her, something she couldn’t control.
She had an excuse, of course.
Her whole life, within weeks, had been turned on its head. And that included living with an impossibly rich, incredibly handsome, very famous International Hot Guy. And that also included going head-to-head with a ghost.
So, Abby thought, it was really only a matter of time before she lost her mind completely.
Which was exactly what she did.
In slow motion, her eyes moved from their perusal of her bag to Cash.
Then she shrieked, “Stop throwing my stuff!”
Cash pulled her close and his arm started to sli
de around her as he said, “Abby, you need to calm down.”
“Calm?” she asked. “Calm!” she screeched. “You be calm!” She yanked out of his arms and took two steps back, he came for her but she lifted her hand, pointed a finger at him and he stopped. “You be calm in the face of what I’ve seen, and done, and then seen tonight. A ghost, Cash, I came face-to-face with a fucking ghost!”
Distractedly she noticed his whole body jerked as if he’d been punched in the stomach but she just kept right on ranting.
“And let me tell you ghosts are scary!” she shouted then started pacing. “They scream and you… would not… believe how awful it sounds. They melt through walls. They melt back through walls. They float. And they attack!”
She stopped ranting and glared at him.
Quietly, looking like he was fighting the urge to check her temperature, he said, “Abby, there are no such things as ghosts.”
“I would have said the same thing a few weeks ago, but believe me, there are ghosts. They’re mean and they’re nasty and this one particularly,” Abby returned as if she had any authority on ghosts (although she felt, at that moment, she did).
“Maybe I should get you a drink,” he suggested.
“I don’t want a drink,” she retorted.
“Then maybe I should call Tim,” he replied softly.
“You are not going to call Tim!” Abby shouted.
He took a step toward her, saying, “Abby, you have to calm down.”
“Have you heard of Vivianna Wainwright?” Abby asked suddenly and Cash halted and watched her a moment
Then he murmured, “I see. Fenella has been –”
Abby cut him off. “No, Cash. Fenella has been nothing.”
“Darling –” he started again and Abby interrupted again.
“I didn’t slip in the bathroom,” she announced and watched as his body went still. “Your hand doesn’t slam through a mirror when you slip. It slams through a mirror when you’re shoved.”
Cash stared at her a moment then said softly, “Darling, you’ve been going through a lot lately.”
“Yes,” Abby agreed on a toss of her hair, “I have, including becoming the target of a ghost.”