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 he
r 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.