It, with Abby in it, was accelerating and visibly out-of-control.
He dodged trees as he ran, watching as she jumped the curb and drove through the turf, brake lights glowing but not slowing, straight toward the high, thick, stone wall that surrounded Penmort estate.
He made it to the bottom of the hill just as the car slammed into the wall with an ugly, loud crash of crunching, twisting metal.
At the sight and sound of Abby in his car slamming into a wall, Cash didn’t slow even as his mind erased and a blind panic filled him.
He was tearing across the field toward the smoking car when his blank mind saturated. Memories collided in his brain, overlapping each other, one crowding the other out as Cash ran.
Abby, tall, exquisite, arresting, wearing winter white standing in the door at the pub.
Abby telling him he looked good in glasses.
Abby’s eyes on him, soft and reverential, after she woke from her nap.
The fresh, sweet taste of Abby when he kissed her after she’d sipped at her bizarre cocktail.
In bed, Abby and her cat, snuggling into him and falling asleep while he worked.
Abby excitedly babbling about how much she loved cashmere.
Abby, looking classic and elegant, standing in his arms in his office.
The strange, poignant sleeping positions Abby would assume, always close, always in the protective curve of his arm.
He reached the car and saw the demolished bonnet folded into itself and the airbags inflated before both seats of the car.
Cash didn’t give a thought to his car, only to one of its occupants.
He yanked open the driver’s door to see Abby was shoved back behind the airbag. Her head turned to him, eyes wide but blinking, face pale.
She was breathing, moving, there was no blood in sight, no bones protruding, and relief ripped through him.
She whispered, “Fenella.”
Cash pushed his arm between Abby and the airbag. “You first, love. Then I’ll take care of Fenella.”
He found the release on the seatbelt as she murmured, “It was stuck in go.”
Cash put one arm under her knees, the other behind her back and cautiously slid her out of her seat, doing a quick body scan as he did so.
What he didn’t do was reply.
“Cash,” she called softly as he straightened, Abby cradled in his arms, and started striding away from the wreckage. His eyes went to hers and she went on, “The car was stuck in go.”
“Quiet, darling,” Cash muttered.
“I couldn’t get it to stop,” she whispered.
He knew that.
He knew it.
And he knew why.
But he couldn’t think of that now.
He had to focus on Abby. If he didn’t focus on Abby, he would do something he would regret. Something that would take him away from her for he’d be in prison. Prison would mean that he would really lose Abby instead of just experiencing the gut-twisting, soul-destroying thought of losing her while watching her slam into a wall in his car.
“Quiet, Abby,” he repeated gently, “we’ll talk later.” He stopped close to a tree and set her on her feet but didn’t release his hold on her. “Can you stand?”
She tipped her head to look at him and pulled her hair away from her face with a visibly trembling hand but she nodded.
Cash left her and jogged back to the car. Fenella was carefully alighting and he put an arm about her waist. She looked up at him, speechless for once, wearing the same wide-eyed, pale expression as Abby. He supported her weight and walked her back to Abby.
When they arrived at Abby’s side, Fenella spoke. “What just happened?”
Abby’s eyes went to Cash and she replied, “I don’t know.”
But by the look on her face, he knew that she did.
At that moment Suzanne, in her sporty Mercedes two-seater, turned from the main road into the lane. Her eyes were on the wrecked car and she slowed to a halt.
“Wait here,” Cash ordered and jogged to Suzanne.
She was out of the car before he arrived.
“My God, Cash, what happened?” she breathed, eyes on the wreckage then they turned to him and did a sweep of his body. “Are you okay?”
Cash didn’t answer, instead he asked, “Do you have your mobile?”
She was staring at him and her eyes moved to Abby and Fenella.
“Suzanne,” Cash’s voice was low with impatience, “mobile.”
Her head gave a jerk and she looked back at Cash, mumbling, “Of course.”
She leaned into the car, got her bag and pulled out her mobile, handing it to Cash.
Cash was pressing numbers when he demanded, “Go back to the house, get Honor’s Rover, come back and pick up Abby and Fenella.”
He finished dialling, pressed go and put the mobile to his ear as she started, “But –”
“Do it!” Cash snapped and he heard his call to the police connect as Suzanne hustled back into her car and took off up the lane.
Cash walked back to Abby and Fenella as he reported the wreck. The minute he arrived at Abby’s side he slid his arm around her shoulders and curled her front-to-front. Both her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed her cheek to his chest as he kept talking.
After he made his report, he flipped Suzanne’s phone closed and looked down at Abby. “The police are coming. Suzanne is getting Honor’s car so she can take you back to the castle.”
Abby nodded mutely and Cash went on.
“Glue yourself to Nicola’s side,” he ordered.
She pressed deeper into him and nodded again.
Cash continued. “I’ll bring the police to you.” His eyes turned to Fenella. “Nicola needs to do something, you get Abby off the castle grounds immediately.”
Fenella replied instantly, “Yes, Cash.”
He heard cars approaching and turned to see Suzanne’s Mercedes and Nicola’s Audi headed their way. Honor and Nicola were both in the Audi.
Cash walked Abby and Fenella toward the cars and watched all the women alight.
“What on earth –” Nicola whispered as they arrived, her eyes on the wrecked Maserati.
Honor’s face was ashen and her eyes were on Fenella. Then they moved to Cash and he watched a spark of anger flare before she subdued it.
“There was an accident,” Cash announced unnecessarily, “take Fenella and Abby back to the castle. I’ll wait for the police.”
“Is everyone okay?” Nicola asked, her eyes doing a scan first of her daughter then of Abby.
“We’re fine, Mummy,” Fenella assured her mother, linking her arm through Abby’s, gently disengaging her from Cash and moving them both toward the Audi. “Let’s get back. I seriously need a cup of tea.”
Fenella, Cash was surprised to see, took charge and got the women in the car and Honor drove the Audi very slowly back up the lane.
Suzanne stayed behind, her eyes on Cash.
He pulled his gaze from the Audi and spared Suzanne a glance before flipping open her phone.
“Cash –” she began.
“Not now, Suzanne,” Cash returned, punching James’s number into the mobile as he spoke.
She, as usual, pushed it “Cash, you should know, Alistair –”
His eyes cut to her and in a voice vibrating with barely controlled rage, Cash repeated, “Not now.”
She watched him a moment and he heard James answer.
He walked away from her.
She got in her car and drove to the castle as Cash gave James his orders.
* * * * *
Nicola, her three daughters, Abby and Cash were in the drawing room. Alistair had left early that morning to do errands unknown and had not yet arrived back home.
Everyone except Cash was sipping tea as Abby then Fenella told their stories to the police.
There were a good deal of knowing looks exchanged between the sisters, even Suzanne, and Abby.
Nicola ignored the kn
owing looks and held her body rigid as if the slightest movement might shatter it.
Cash also held his body rigid but in an effort to control his impulse to hunt down Alistair Charles Beaumaris and split his skull open against the nearest hard surface.
The police were making preparations to leave when Alistair surged through the door.
The room, already fraught, went wired.
Abby was seated on the sofa, Cash standing by her side. The moment Alistair entered her hand shot out, her fingers closed around his and squeezed.
Tight.
Cash’s body stayed taut for a moment then released and he squeezed back.
Alistair looked, Cash noted with repugnance, excited.
His eyes swept the room and fell on Cash. The excitement melted and for a moment Alistair looked startled before he hid it.
“What happened?” Alistair asked, walking further into the room. “When I drove up, I saw your car wrecked, there’s police crawling all over it. What’s going on?”
“Abby had an accident,” Nicola said, her voice soft, her eyes on Alistair and they were intense. She stood and continued. “Fenella was in the car with her.”
Cash watched as Alistair blanched then his gaze moved to Fenella. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Fenella replied, but her tone was sharp.
Alistair looked to Abby. “Abby, how are you?”
“Alive,” Abby answered, her voice cold, her eyes shooting icicles at his uncle across the expanse.
Alistair’s gaze skittered across the room, avoiding everyone else’s and coming to rest on the police. “Well thank goodness everyone’s all right.”
“Yes,” Nicola declared firmly, “thank goodness.”
The police, who had paused in their exit, began to move again, one of the men saying, “We have everything we need, we’ll call if –”
Suzanne interrupted him. “Excuse me.”
They stopped and turned to her as she went on, something shifting on her face, looking at first calculating then shifting swiftly to demure.
Cash braced.
Suzanne kept talking. “I’m sorry, I mean, this is probably nothing. A freak coincidence but…”
She trailed off, playing what Cash knew was a game, as did Abby. Abby scooted closer to him on the couch and her hand tightened in his as they waited for Suzanne to speak.
“What is it?” one of the police asked.
“Well, it’s only that, Cash here,” she motioned to Cash with a flick of her wrist and Abby’s hand flexed spasmodically in his, “see, his father died in a car wreck,” Suzanne finished, what sounded inanely.
Both policemen shifted awkwardly on their feet, their eyes going to Cash.
“I’m sorry, sir,” one of the police mumbled.
“No,” Suzanne went on to announce, “you don’t understand. Foul play was suspected.”
Cash felt Abby’s body jerk through his hand and his own eyes riveted on Suzanne.
“It was?” the policeman asked.
“Yes, indeed it was,” Suzanne answered blithely. “They never pinned it on anyone but, you know, it does seem an odd coincidence that Cash’s father might have been murdered and here we are, decades later, and Cash’s expensive, high performance, Italian sports car which was, I assume, running smoothly last night during its trek from Somerset to Devon, this morning, with no warning, strangely both accelerates on its own and its brakes go out, both at the same time.” Suzanne licked her lips, sat back in her chair and finished. “I mean, don’t you think that’s utterly bizarre?”
Alistair cut in and all eyes moved to him as he declared, “Nothing was ever proved.”
“I know nothing was every proved, Alistair,” Suzanne shot back. “That doesn’t change the fact that foul play was suspected. The police, you’ll no doubt agree, should have all the facts.” Her eyes moved to the police. “It was a long time ago but I’m sure there’s still a case file somewhere.”
Alistair moved further into the room, his eyes narrowing on Suzanne.
“Nothing was ever proved,” he insisted.
“You said that already,” Suzanne returned mildly.
Alistair’s gaze flicked to Cash then to the police. “There’s no reason to dredge that up again just because of an accident. We’re planning a celebration tonight and it will only serve to distress my family, my nephew –”
“It does seem weird,” Fenella piped up, interrupting Alistair.
“Very peculiar,” Honor added.
Cash saw Nicola’s mouth twitch in a way that looked like she was trying to control a smile before she turned her face away.
“You see,” Suzanne smoothly carried on, “Anthony Beaumaris was a rich and powerful man. Now his son is. It could be someone has it out for him and his family. We could all be in danger.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Alistair spat.
Nicola turned to her husband. “I don’t know if it’s ridiculous considering Abby and Fenella were in that car. If someone’s after Cash they couldn’t know Abby would drive his car. It was the first time Abby ever touched the steering wheel. And it could have been any one of us sitting beside her. If someone intends Cash harm, what happened this morning proves that we could all be in danger.”
“You’re not in danger,” Alistair retorted.
“I was today,” Fenella reminded him and Alistair’s narrowed eyes shot to her.
Then Alistair turned to the police declaring, “This is rubbish.”
“It doesn’t sound like rubbish to me,” Honor commented. “How often does this happen? I mean, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to most people even once, but now it’s happened to Cash twice? That’s just plain weird.”
“We’ll look into it,” one of the police muttered, obviously desiring not to be caught in the middle of a family squabble and they again turned to leave.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Suzanne encouraged, standing and giving them a charming smile as she moved their way and Cash watched her eyes warming to an inviting, suggestive allure that Cash was used to having directed at him. She touched one of the police on his arm and murmured, “I’ll just walk you to your car.”
Watching her walk the police out, Cash reconsidered allowing Suzanne to stay at the castle.
And definitely Honor and Fenella could stay.
Abby’s hand released his as she rose and looked at Nicola.
“I’m so sorry. Every time I’m here it seems I’m having some kind of acci –” she started.
Cash watched, surprised, as Nicola’s eyes sliced to Abby and her voice was unusually forceful when she interrupted, “Don’t you apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. Not one thing.”
At the fierceness in her tone everyone in the room went still except Cash. He moved to Abby’s side and slid an arm around her waist.
Abby and Nicola stared at each other and finally Nicola blinked and turned away.
“Right!” she exclaimed shrugging off her mood. “I’ve a million and one things to do. Honor, go rescue those policemen from Suzanne, I need her. Fenella, you take a rest and when you feel up to it, find me. Abby, you and Cash try to salvage your afternoon,” her gaze turned to Alistair, “and you…” she paused giving him an unreadable look, “do whatever it is you do.”
Then she hurried from the room.
Honor glanced at Cash and Abby before she followed her mother.
Cash put pressure on Abby’s waist and started to lead her from the room but he was intercepted by Alistair putting a hand to his arm.
“Cash,” he started, “son, you don’t believe –”
Cash’s eyes had gone to his arm when Alistair touched him but they cut to his uncle as Cash pulled his arm away.
“Don’t ever,” Cash’s voice was lethal, “call me ‘son’.”
Cash saw red started creeping up his uncle’s neck as Alistair took a step back and Cash continued moving, guiding Abby to their room.
Once they arrived, he shut the door and Abb
y stormed deep into the room.
Then she started pacing.
Then she started ranting, however she did this quietly.
“I do not believe,” she hissed, “that Alistair tried to kill you.”
“Abby –” Cash started but she talked over him.
“On the day of his anniversary! Valentine’s Day!” she snapped. “Nicola has been planning this for nine months! Nine!” she clipped, lifting both hands up to Cash to show him nine fingers. “And he attempts the murder of my boyfriend,” she thumped her chest for emphasis, “on Nicola’s special day!”
Cash bit back a smile at her words and tried again, “Darling, calm –” but she kept going.
“He tried to kill you on Valentine’s Day,” she repeated, “and nearly killed his stepdaughter!”
Cash leaned his shoulders against the door and crossed his arms on his chest deciding to let her get it out. She needed to vent so they could move on with the weekend and she could keep her wits about her. She was going to need them.
He watched her pace and rant, her arms waving around. He thought, regardless of their murderous circumstances (now both Cash and Abby were on different firing lines), she looked quite adorable in her muted fury.
And while he watched her something suddenly occurred to him. Something he hadn’t considered before. Something vital that freed a lock deep inside him that he didn’t know was secured.
Throughout their short relationship, she reminded him of his mother, not in good ways, but in bad. Her mood swings, erratic behaviour and the depth of her pain which he could not fathom, nor did he think he could do anything about.
He thought about Abby manically packing her bag, taking too many pills to kill unknown pain, raving about a ghost.
He was used to this bizarre and alarming behaviour from his mother. He was used to a life of hour-to-hour, even sometimes minute-to-minute, not knowing where her crazed mind would take her, dragging Cash along with her.
And he’d accepted it from Abby but held himself aloof, protecting himself with an exit plan.
But Abby wasn’t mentally ill.
Abby was simply spirited. She also had been in the final throes of escaping a deep grief that had her imprisoned in its grip for four years.
She was now over that grief. She had let her guard down and given herself to him.