Vivianna’s speed sent her through the fireplace and she disappeared.
Cash came up quickly, bringing Alistair with him. He whirled, sending Alistair flying several feet but he didn’t watch his uncle move.
His eyes immediately turned to Kieran.
“Get the women out of here,” he ordered.
“But Abby has to stay. She has to go up to the gallery.” Only Mrs. Truman would argue with a Cash Fraser who looked ready – no, more to the point he looked like he wanted to tear someone limb-from-limb.
“Kieran, get them the fuck out of here,” Cash repeated, his glance going back to the fireplace, his addition of the f-word boding bad tidings.
“Abby has to stay!” Mrs. Truman shouted.
Cash’s torso twisted and he shouted back, “She’s on the ground floor! She’s not fucking climbing steps when that thing is loose.”
Kieran was on the move, hustling Abby and Jenny toward the door and they moved with him quickly as Fenella and Honor guided a stunned Nicola in their direction.
Suzanne didn’t move. “I’ll stay with –”
Cash cut her off with one word, “Go.”
She looked at him. “Cash, I can help.”
He leaned into her and roared, “Move!”
At that, as anyone would, Suzanne moved.
They were closing in on the exit when Vivianna reappeared, forming in front of them rapidly, her spiteful eyes on Alistair. Then they swung to Abby and her gaze was so poisonous the entire assemblage skidded to a halt upon viewing its venom.
Then without hesitation she zoomed toward Abby. Fenella let out a choked scream and before Abby could take even one step back, Vivianna swept low to the floor, her body swirling around Abby’s ankles and then up.
Abby stood frozen, not because she wanted to, but because she was stuck and even though she told her legs to move, for some supernatural reason, they didn’t.
Before terror could fill her all of a sudden an arm hooked at her waist. She was jerked back and then half-dragged, half-walked backward. Cash’s arm was about her, his body tight against hers.
Vivianna stopped her swirl and hovered, eyes narrowed on Cash and Abby.
Or more accurately, Cash’s arm held protectively around Abby’s body.
Then she opened her mouth and screamed, the sound far louder and far, far, far more terrifying.
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” Fenella shrieked, hands to her ears then she pointed one finger at Vivianna who had turned to her and Fenella screeched, “Why don’t you leave them alone? Why can’t you just go away?”
Vivianna’s scream stilled and she aimed a twisted smile at Fenella before she darted toward her. Abby saw Fenella’s body brace but Vivianna sifted right through her and then she turned, curling around the room.
Cash took the opportunity and moved, half-carrying, half-dragging Abby, he sprinted toward the door but Vivianna zipped in front of them and they collided with her.
Abby and Cash flew backward like they’d hit a wall, bright white and red sparks bursting from Abby’s chest as they did so.
Vivianna reeled back as well but caught herself, ready this time for Abby’s protection, and made a mad dash back toward Abby and Cash. His arm curved tighter around her, his upper body leaned into hers, forcing her forward and to the side, preparing to shield her from impact but before he’d accomplished his task, in front of them the body of a straight, tall, immensely handsome, see-through man appeared.
When it did Vivianna’s face became startled and she tried to halt her progress but she slammed into him and his arms immediately went about her, imprisoning her in his grasp.
Abby, half bent, Cash’s chest pressing heavily into her back, her head turned to the action, stared in stunned disbelief at the ghost of Anthony Beaumaris, Cash’s father, standing before them, subduing a struggling Vivianna.
He turned, his eyes on Cash, and his mouth formed one word, a word heard shimmering through the air rather than emitting from his lips.
“Gallery.”
Then he and Vivianna disappeared.
Before Abby could even begin to process this Cash yanked her up then, with a hand at her wrist, whirled her around. His fingers still around her wrist, he pulled her arm out, bent double, released her wrist, his shoulder went into her belly and she was being lifted. Once he had her in place, he began running, her torso hanging over his back, her legs down his chest.
He sprinted past everyone through the hall. Even though she couldn’t see where they were going, when she saw they’d passed the stairs she knew he was heading to the front door.
“Cash, we have to go to the gallery,” Abby cried urgently, but her voice was halting as she rocked on his shoulder.
“No fucking way,” Cash growled back, stopping after he descended the stone steps of the entry to heave open the door but Abby started struggling, writhing on his shoulder.
“Cash, your father said take me to the gallery,” she shouted.
He’d taken two steps outside when he lost control of her squirming body. She slid for a second out-of-control down his arm before he caught her. His arm under her shoulder blades, the other rounding her thighs, he put her safely to her feet.
Then he grabbed her hand and started to move.
Abby planted her feet but her shoes skidded across the stone as he pulled.
He stopped, spinning around to look at her and clipped, “Abby!”
“Cash, no,” she cut him off as the others came dashing out of the house to surround them, “we have to go to the gallery.”
Cash ignored their audience and bit out, “We’re not going to the fucking gallery.”
“We have to finish this tonight!” Abby yelled desperately.
Why she cared anymore about the end of Vivianna, knowing she and Cash were through, was a mystery to her.
No, she had to admit, it wasn’t.
Jenny was right.
Abby was in love with Cash. She was in love with him and Penmort was his legacy. He wanted it and she wanted it for him. All of it. With none of it controlled by a ghosty she-bitch.
She didn’t have the chance to sort through the sad fact she was, indeed, in love with Cash Fraser, International Hot Guy, in love with him enough to risk her life, because he tugged briskly at her arm.
Abby stayed determinedly fixed.
“We’ll find another way,” he declared when she didn’t move.
“There is no other way,” she shot back.
He leaned into her and repeated on a shout, “We’ll find another fucking way!”
A different Scottish voice, this one disembodied, came from behind Cash. “Take her to the gallery.”
Cash turned and he, Abby and their entourage stared into the vacant dark.
“Angus?” Honor called softly.
“Take her to the gallery,” Angus’s voice, closer and softer now although he still didn’t appear, encouraged again. “Don’t worry, laddie, I’ve got your back.”
Cash stared in the direction of the voice, lips thin, jaw clenched and Abby held her breath.
Finally Cash growled, “Something happens to her –”
Angus’s voice cut him off. “I’ve got your back. More importantly, I’ve got hers.”
Cash closed his eyes and sucked breath into his nose. Then his eyes opened and they sliced to Abby. She watched a muscle leap in his cheek before he moved toward her.
“Let’s fucking do this,” he muttered, hand still in Abby’s, he led her back through the door but once they were inside, he stopped and looked back at Kieran. “Get them safe, off the castle grounds.”
“We’ll go with you,” Nicola, clearly having recovered from her shock and morphing straight into Mom Mode, offered.
“No,” Cash replied shortly and turned back but he was thwarted again.“Well, I’m going,” Mrs. Truman proclaimed, Cash came around again and he and Abby watched as the older woman stomped toward them on her granny pumps.
“You’re not coming with u
s,” Cash stated firmly.
“I am,” Mrs. Truman retorted, halting and glaring up at Cash.
“No, you are not,” Cash returned.
She planted her hands on her hips and snapped, “Yes I am, Cash Fraser. You can’t tell me what to do. I don’t care how tall you are!”
Abby felt then quelled the crazed desire to laugh out loud.
“I’m coming too,” Jenny put in, coming to stand by Mrs. Truman.
“And me,” Fenella moved forward as well.
“Me too,” Honor joined the group.
“I am too,” Suzanne announced, not joining the group but striding confidently forward, she rounded Cash and Abby and went straight to and up the stairs.
“Fucking hell,” Cash muttered and his eyes moved to his uncle. “Can you do one thing for your wife and get her to safety?”
But alas, at Cash’s query, Alistair Beaumaris proved he was the Jerk to End All Jerks.
“You’ll not be in my house, doing whatever-it-is-you’re-going-to-do, without me in it,” Alistair announced and stomped forward too, skirting a now even angrier Cash and heading toward the stairs.
Nicola gracefully linked arms with Kieran as if they were about to embark on a moonlit stroll, not battle a she-bitch-from-hell and moved forward. “Well, it looks like we’re all going.”
“Jesus,” Kieran mumbled, pained eyes on Cash and everyone shoved in the door, moving around Cash and Abby and climbing the stairs.
Cash looked down at Abby and remarked dryly, “You’re racking up quite a debt, darling, because I think, somehow, you owe me for this too.”
Abby bit her lip and shrugged but this time Cash did not laugh, chuckle, smile or even grin. He glared at her so ferociously she gulped at his scorching look and then he led her toward the stairs.
However behind them a disembodied male chortle could be heard and Abby knew Cash definitely heard it.
She knew this because his hand squeezed hers painfully tight and he muttered, “You definitely fucking owe me.”
Abby didn’t have time to worry about Cash’s dire statement.
She had stairs to climb.
She held her breath through the first set of stairs then she let it go on the landing only to hold it again on the second.
It wasn’t until they hit the gallery that she allowed herself to relax.
Not relax relax, as in, putting your feet up with a book and a nice, big glass of pinot noir at the end of a trying day. But just kind of relax, as in making it up a stairwell made dangerous by a phantom yet the real battle still yawned ahead of you.
The gallery was ablaze with lights and everyone was there when they entered.
“Maybe I should go get some champagne,” Honor offered.
“Nobody fucking leaves this room,” Cash returned immediately, dropping Abby’s hand and cutting a scowl throughout the group.
Honor’s brows went up and her eyes slid to Abby.
Abby gave her a grimace of solidarity but shrewdly decided against speaking.
“Well I, for one, think this is very interesting,” Suzanne remarked from across the room.
She was standing, arms crossed under her breasts, the cleavage bared by her fuchsia gown that had a daring V which went nearly to her navel became all the more pronounced with her stance. She had a foot out and a hip jutted and her eyes were aimed at Alistair.
“Suzanne, please,” Nicola begged, “now is not a good time.”
“Of course you’re right, Mum,” Suzanne agreed. “Though, I will say, I do hope Anthony Beaumaris hangs around after Vivianna is gone. I would just love to hear what he has to say.”
“Shut your goddamned mouth,” Alistair snapped.
“Make me,” she snapped back and Alistair made as if to move but Cash’s voice cracked through the room like a whiplash.
“You take one step closer to her, Alistair, I’ll throw you out the fucking window myself.”
Alistair’s body froze but his hate filled eyes shot to Cash.
“I should never have invited you to this house,” he clipped.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Cash concurred then Abby’s tense body went solid when he spoke his next words. “I’ll not make the same mistake.”
“I wouldn’t step foot in your home even if you paid me,” Alistair returned.
“You did five minutes ago,” Cash retorted, Abby’s breath caught and the air in the room went still as everyone’s eyes riveted on Cash.
Alistair’s face paled, his lips parted in shock but he quickly recovered and slid into bluster. “What are you on about?”
“I’m on about the lien I have on Penmort,” Cash informed him. “The one I purchased two months ago from a very grateful bank who hadn’t been receiving payments for six months. Nor, I expect, did they want to foreclose and be saddled with a castle they would likely never be able to unload. I don’t share that reluctance, I’m foreclosing now.”
“I knew this would be interesting,” Suzanne commented happily.
At the same time Fenella muttered, “Oh my.”
And at the same time Honor let out an amused chuckle.
Alistair ignored their onlookers, he only had eyes for Cash.
“You can’t be serious,” he breathed.
“Deadly,” Cash shot back.
Alistair’s hands fisted at his sides as his face grew red and he declared, “I’ll pay you.”
“You don’t have the money to pay me,” Cash reminded him.
Alistair leaned forward. “Then I’ll start selling. The Wedgewood collection alone –”
Cash’s body went visibly tight before he clipped out, “You sell one piece of my legacy, I’ll see you in court, day in and day out, until the only thing you have left is the clothes on your fucking back.”
Abby, already close to Cash, got closer and her fingers curled around his.
His hand gave hers a light squeeze right before Alistair grinned and scoffed, “Your legacy? That’s damned funny. Penmort has never been held outside the legitimate line.”
“That isn’t exactly true,” Honor put in airily and everyone looked to her as she continued, talking like she was a history teacher and they were her class. “In 1697, Edward Beaumaris, never married, died without a legitimate heir. However, being somewhat of a rake, he had five illegitimate children, three boys and two girls. The first born boy, Randall, assumed the Beaumaris name and took over as master of the castle.”
“Edward Beaumaris obviously didn’t have a brother,” Alistair retorted.
“Actually, he had four,” Honor returned, a font of ready knowledge about the Beaumaris family.
Clearly, Abby thought, over the last twenty-five years Honor had spent a good deal of time in the library.
Nicola let out a soft laugh, Alistair’s gaze cut to her and his voice was hideous when he hissed, “Shut your bloody mouth.”
At that Cash dropped Abby’s hand and in three long strides he was in Alistair’s space. Alistair, taken unawares, belatedly shuffled back but Cash kept advancing until he had his uncle pinned against the wall.
Once there Cash leaned threateningly closer but didn’t touch the older man.
“Your days of malice toward the Fitzhugh women are over, starting now. I hear you’ve even looked at one of them funny, tomorrow or twenty years in the future, I swear to Christ you’ll wish you were never fucking born. Do you get my meaning?”
“Back off,” Alistair demanded but his voice held a betraying tremor.
Cash didn’t move instead he repeated, “I asked, do you get my meaning?”
“Frankly, I’ll be thrilled if I never see them again,” Alistair snapped, his voice and words ugly.
“I’m sure they feel the same,” Cash replied, stepped back and then moved away from Alistair, his eyes going to Nicola. “You and your daughters are free to stay at Penmort for as long as you wish.”
“You’re not taking Penmort!” Alistair shouted and Cash stopped on his way back to Abby and turned to his unc
le.
“I am,” Cash announced, “tomorrow, I’ve got six people coming to the castle to do an inventory. You’ve got a week to find other accommodation, gather together your clothes and other personal belongings, none of which will have any attachment to the history this building, and you’re getting the fuck out.”
Abby wanted to clap her hands, jump up and down and shout, “Hurrah!” but Alistair wasn’t finished.
“I pay on the notes, you’ve got no –”
“You fight me, I’ll drag your ass into court and demand a DNA test,” Cash returned and Alistair’s mottled face became confused.
“A DNA test?” he asked.
Cash for some reason didn’t utter an immediate retort.
Abby watched as his jaw grew tight and he stared at his uncle a moment before he replied, “You don’t want to continue this conversation with an audience.”
Alistair, proving once again he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tack in the box, queried snidely, “Are you insinuating I’m not a Beaumaris?”
“Trust me, Alistair, you want to back down,” Cash advised.
“How bloody dare you make that accusation! Of all the bloody cheek, you,” he jeered, “claiming I’m not a blood Beaumaris.”
“Look around you,” Cash stated, indicating the portraits with a jerk of his head, all the pictures of the past masters of the castle sharing a strong resemblance with Cash. His voice had grown quiet when he continued, “Now look at me. What do you see?”
Alistair didn’t take his eyes off Cash. “I see a bloody upstart is what I see.”
“Back down,” Cash warned.
Alistair wasn’t smart enough to catch Cash’s hint. “Do what you will. I’ll see you in court.”
Cash shrugged and turned back around, moving toward Abby again while saying, “So be it.”
Alistair’s gaze swept the room and he snapped, “I don’t believe this. In my own home –”
“It isn’t your home, Alistair. After Richard Beaumaris died, it stopped being your home,” Honor told him and Alistair’s eyes shot to her but he was smart enough, after his last crack to Nicola and Cash’s reaction, to clamp his mouth shut. Honor carried on. “Cash is being nice, I don’t know why, he’s got no reason to be, but he is. I, however, don’t feel like being nice after you manhandled my mother in front of an audience.”