Penmort Castle by Kristen Ashley
Instead of answering her question, he said, “I have a meeting first thing in the morning.”
“We have to talk.”
His body went still but she didn’t notice it. She pressed into him, reaching across the bed, groping for a moment before she found the lamp switch and muted light filled the room.
He watched as she blinked adorably, her eyes adjusting to the light then they focused on him.
She further surprised him by keeping her position; her torso on his, her forearm came to rest on his chest, holding herself elevated but still close.
Her face was drowsy but the look in her eyes was serious.
Cash mentally braced.
With Abby, it could be anything. She could say something that would lead to a heated row. She could suffer an emotional breakdown. She could do something outrageous to make him laugh. Or she could put her mouth on him and make him come.
He had to be prepared.
However nothing he could do would prepare him for what came next.
“Something’s happened,” she told him.
“What?” he asked.
She looked away and bit her lip then sighed and looked back to him. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
His hands stole around her hips. “Darling, just start at the beginning. Whatever it is, it’ll be all right.”
Then she did something that so surprised him, his entire body reacted to it, tensing along his length as her hand came up to rest on his cheek.
And, with a soft voice, her eyes on his, she said, “I met this man yesterday at Mrs. Truman’s. I wasn’t going to say anything about him until the time was right but then Honor talked to me tonight.”
The tension in Cash’s body increased and she felt it, her thumb moved to his temple and circled there soothingly.
“Cash,” she whispered, “Penmort is yours.”
His body froze solid.
“I’m sorry?” he growled.
“Honor told me,” she said.
He felt his eyes narrow. “Honor told you what? Exactly.”
She licked her lips and took in a breath, “She told me she found your grandmother, Lorna’s, diaries.”
Cash’s eyes stayed narrow but now in confusion. “Keep talking.”
Abby nodded and went on. “She says she thinks no one knows about them. She’s read them. Cash,” she hesitated then in a soft explosion, she burst out, “God! I don’t know how to tell you this.”
Losing patience, Cash rolled her to her back, positioned his body on his elbow and loomed over her. “Just say it.”
She stared at him a moment then said swiftly, “Your grandmother was raped.”
Cash’s body jerked and instantly both her hands came up to frame his face.
“Cash, look at me, please, honey, look at me.” When the shock from her announcement receded, Cash’s eyes focused on Abby’s face. She was staring at him with a look that was immensely gentle and she whispered, “Alistair was the product of that rape.”
Cash blinked slowly.
Abby kept talking. “Honor says all you need to do is ask for a DNA test and Penmort is yours. She says she’s had a friend examine Penmort’s covenant and the castle can’t be held outside of the bloodline. Alistair isn’t of the line. Honor says the castle, and everything, is yours.” One of her hands moved away from his face and she went up on one elbow, getting closer as her other hand drifted down to his shoulder. “Honey, the castle has always been yours.”
His eyes never left her concerned face as sensations tore through him, some of them exultant, some of them toxic.
When his father had died, Penmort and its holdings were vast. They had to be for anyone to maintain such a huge property. There was land. There were lettings in the local town, both commercial and residential. There were investments. His father owned the controlling share of several lucrative businesses and kept a domineering hand in all of them earning a reputation as a clever but ruthless mogul.
At the time, it had been worth multiple millions, translated into today’s money, it would have been billions.
Alistair had dwindled that down to nothing. Almost as if he was doing it intentionally, he pulled out of good investments and threw money at bad ones. He sold the controlling shares, the properties, the lands and he lived high. Travelled widely. Spent freely. Until there was nothing coming in and thousands going out, monthly.
“That fucking bastard,” Cash exploded and then pushed away, hurling the covers wide, he knifed out of bed and looked for something to throw.
Instead, his eyes fell on Abby, who’d sat up in the bed and was watching him.
She was wearing an espresso-brown, silk nightgown edged in delicate ecru lace. A nightgown he’d bought for her. A nightgown that cost more than many people spent on clothes in a year. A nightgown the likes of which he’d worked since he was twelve years old, scratching his way up from nothing, so he could afford. And still he was working fourteen hour days so he wouldn’t blink at such a purchase.
“Fuck!” Cash roared, his arm shot out, his fist closed around the lamp and he yanked it out of the wall, the light going dead, and he threw it across the room.
He heard its glass base shatter against the wall then he heard Abby shoot out of bed.
Cash was pacing, the whole time Abby at his side, her hands on him. She tried to get in his way but he either abruptly turned and headed the other way or walked around her.
“Cash, please, stop, look at me,” she begged.
“We had nothing. My grandfather worked driving a fucking taxi. And we still had nothing,” Cash growled, his hand had shot through his hair, his fingers closing around the back of his neck and he kept them there as he paced. “Then he died, Mum couldn’t hold down a job for more than a few months, eventually no one would hire her, and we really had fucking nothing.”
Abby planted herself in front of him and threw her arms around him, crushing her body against his and she held on finally effectively halting him.
“Please, honey, stop walking,” she pleaded. “You might cut yourself. Let me clean up the lamp.”
At her words, something inside him imploded. He pulled viciously out of her arms but bent low, put one arm behind her knees and one at her waist. He lifted her and carried her to the bed. Tossing her on it, he came down on top of her.
“You’re not going to clean up the lamp, Abby,” he clipped. “You’re never going to clean anything again. Aileen’s going to clean up the fucking lamp. That’s what I fucking pay her for. That’s why I fucking work so goddamned hard.”
Her hands were on him, stroking his back slowly, soothingly, and she whispered, “Okay Cash.”
Cash felt Abby’s hands moving on him, her soft body under his, the silk of her nightgown against his skin and he sucked in breath.
On his exhale, he shared, “My father left the money, the holdings, everything, to my mother but Alistair took her to court. It was years, battle after battle, appeal after appeal. And he got it back.”
Abby’s hands stopped moving and her arms slid around his back to hold on tight.
“I looked through her papers,” Cash told her. “She had a case. A strong one. She was sick, drove her attorneys up the wall and then she ran out of money and they jumped ship.”
“Oh Cash,” she breathed softly.
He dropped his forehead to Abby’s and muttered, “I can’t fucking wait to see his face when I kick his ass out.”
Abby’s body went still under his, she hesitated then suggested quietly, “Maybe you should wait until after the anniversary celebration. I think Nicola’s looking forward to that.”
Cash replied instantly, “Oh, I’ll wait.” Then something occurred to him, he pulled slightly away and asked, “Why did Honor tell you this?”
He heard her hair slide along the covers as he saw the shadowy outline of her head shake in front of him. “I think,” she started then paused and went on warily, “I’m not sure but I don’t think Alistair was very,” she hesit
Cash caught her meaning. Alistair not being “nice” included Nicola.
In a low voice that came directly from his gut, he knew because he felt it, Cash promised, “He’s going to pay.”
Abby’s arms flexed around him and she warned, “Be careful, Cash. He scares me.”
Belatedly, Cash realised his weight was likely too much for her and he rolled to his side, taking her with him.
His arms moved around her and he pulled her close. Her arms stayed tight and she tucked her face in his neck.
“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let him hurt you, or anyone, not again.”
Her head tilted back and she replied, her voice showing her surprise, “Cash, I’m not worried about me.”
His chin dipped down and he looked at her face in the shadows and he repeated, “I said I won’t let him hurt anyone.”
She pushed her body into his as she pressed him verbally, “Even you?”
It struck him, uncommonly slowly, that Abby was worried about him. And this knowledge sheared the edge off his anger.
His hand slid up her back, sifted into her hair and he tucked her face back into his neck.
“Even me,” he murmured.
She nuzzled closer and whispered, “I’m sorry about all this.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Cash demanded.
She nestled even closer and continued softly. “Well, I am. About you, your Mom. Nicola and the girls. And your grandmother. What she must have gone through.”
Absently, Cash’s fingers caught a lock of her hair and started winding it around his fingers.
“Don’t think about it,” Cash gave her the advice he was going to use himself.
“Okay,” she mumbled, “I’ll try.”
He held her until everything about her enveloped him, her scent, her feel, her touch, her warmth, the sound of her breathing. After he felt the peace only Abby could bring him, he pulled her right in the bed, yanked the covers over them and settled her into his side.
When he felt her head go heavy on his shoulder, her arm slackening around his stomach, he called, “Abby.”
“Yes, honey?” she mumbled sleepily.
His arm around her waist got tight and his fingers at her hip gripped her briefly.
“Thank you for telling me,” he muttered.
She gave him a squeeze and pressed deeper into his side.
“You’re welcome.”
He waited until her breathing evened, her body relaxed and he took her slumbering weight.
Only then did he allow himself to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Battle Begins
Abby drove her car along the winding roads toward Penmort, concentrating closely because she didn’t really know where she was going and also because she was scared half out of her mind.
She had no idea how she’d let Angus talk her into this.
Yes, she did.
Tomorrow night Cash and she were going to the castle and spending the weekend there, staying Friday through Sunday. A “family” celebratory dinner was to be held Friday night. The extravaganza was Saturday night. And they were to leave Sunday after a brunch of family and close friends.
And if she didn’t meet Angus tonight she might not make it to Sunday.
Angus called Jenny’s phone that morning when Jenny and she were on their way to pick up her great-grandmother’s gown. Abby had taken it to the cleaners on Monday to have it cleaned and pressed. Jenny and she were headed there to pick it up as well as do other shopping for the weekend when Angus called.
Jenny, Abby noted, was acting weird.
She was far more quiet than normal, especially when Abby explained all that had happened with Cash that week.
Jenny, who Abby expected to freak out, simply turned to her and said, “That’s nice. He’s a good man, Abby, and I think he wants to make you happy.”
She sounded like she didn’t entirely believe her own words even though she wanted to. Furthermore, she shared no advice, guidance, concerns, warnings or even giggles, smiles or lewd questions about how Cash looked naked.
Definitely weird.
Then Abby had gone on to share her new life philosophy, something to which she was certain Jenny would have a reaction.
She’d come up with it lying in Cash’s bed last night, waiting for the cramps to go away and allowing herself the time, finally, to think of everything that had befallen her and what she was going to do about it.
When she got the call that Cash had an accident (she thought), she was definitely reacting or more to the point, overreacting because of what had happened with Ben. But she hadn’t been reliving losing Ben. She’d been upset because she couldn’t fathom the thought of losing Cash.
Which was something she couldn’t ignore even if she wanted to.
But he’d said himself that they weren’t going to lose one another until one of them wanted to be lost.
Which meant he knew one day he would move on.
Abby didn’t like this idea, it hurt even to contemplate it.
But she lay in his bed asking herself how she would behave if someone had told her that her time would be short with Ben.
In order to avoid the pain, would she have turned away, left him behind and not spent her years of love and laughter with him?
Never.
What she would have done was packed much more love and laughter in those years. She would have treasured every moment, even the bad ones, for the precious memories they would become.
So she had a monumental shift in thinking.
For she knew upon feeling the immense relief that Cash was alive and well that she cared about him. And she had to admit, finally, that what she and Cash had was good. No, it wasn’t good, it was great.
No, it wasn’t even great, it was magical.
She couldn’t kid herself anymore and she didn’t even want to.
But this time, she’d been given a boon. She already knew their time together would be short. That meant she could prepare. And that was exactly what she was going to do.
She was going to pack as much into her time with Cash as she could fit. And she was going to savour it while she had it. She was going to stop living her life in fear.
She was just going to live.
Abby thought Jenny would be thrilled to hear this though she didn’t tell Jenny that Cash had intimated the end at the same time he was initiating the beginning.
Instead, Jenny got a strange look on her face and gave Abby a hug.
Abby leaned back in her friend’s arms and asked, “Are you okay?”
Jenny pulled her lips between her teeth and bit them.
When she released them, she nodded and said, “Just happy for you.”
She didn’t look happy nor did she look okay but Abby let it go.
When Jenny was ready to share what was troubling her, Jenny would share. That had always been the way no matter how much Abby wheedled her.
So she let Jenny have her space.
That’s when Angus called.
Jenny handed Abby the phone and Angus told her he’d been at the castle and “on the job” for the last two nights but the “ghosty she-bitch”, a.k.a. Vivianna wasn’t showing.
“She’s a clever girl but not more clever than A McPherson!” he decreed grandly.
Then, without further ado, he told Abby his scary plan. A plan which consisted of Abby going to the castle and offering herself up as bait to a murderous, vindictive ghost.
Angus had already spoken with Fenella and Cassandra and everything was in place. Alistair and Nicola were out for the evening as was Suzanne, none of them to return until late.
Honor and Fenella would have Abby over to dinner and Abby would draw out Vivianna so Angus could take her down. However, Cassandra would give Abby some protection and Angus would give her some coaching before Abby went in.
Though, Angus assured her, Abby had nothing to fear. Angus w
There were a variety of things Abby didn’t like about this plan.
First, she didn’t want to be bait. Vivianna was a spirit-bitch-from-hell and Abby didn’t want to be anywhere near her until she had to be near her.
Second, she didn’t want to be bait (Abby thought that was worth pointing out twice).
Third, dinner with Honor and Fenella to draw out a ghost meant that she’d have to tell Cash she had other plans, plans that didn’t include him, and she didn’t figure he’d like that much.
That morning before he left for work when he, as usual, slid her hair off her neck, she felt it and she woke. Her eyes opened when his lips touched her skin.
She looked at his shadowy form and he murmured, “I’m leaving, darling.”
She’d muttered back, “Hang on,” and with sleepy energy she’d flipped her legs around his body and jumped out of bed. He rose with her and she grabbed his hand, led him to the guest bedroom and flicked on the lights.
“Abby –” he started but Abby was mumbling sleepily to herself.
“I should have come in and got it last night but I…” she stopped by the bed and he halted beside her, looking puzzled and somewhat impatient. She let go of his hand, reached under the pillow and pulled out an envelope. “Honor said she’d leave it here and she did,” Abby finished.
Cash’s eyes went from hers to the envelope and Abby explained about the copied diary pages and the safety deposit box.
Abby had not had time to process their emotional evening or any of the profound secrets Cash had let slip during his tirade. Secrets about his surprising history of being poor (something about which she had no idea, she thought, especially with his manner, that he’d been born to money, lots of it). Secrets about his father leaving his mother and him a fortune that had been taken away (something which neither Angus nor Honor or Fenella mentioned and she wondered if they knew). Secrets about the reason he worked so very hard (something which made her heart hurt).
That morning, he seemed none the worse for wear, his usual charismatic self. But a deadly light shone in his dark eyes when she explained what the envelope contained.