“I still don’t –” Abby started to protest, even though everything Fenella was saying was freaking her out, but Fenella talked over her.
“And everyone knows Vivianna’s spell. She not only cast a spell over her immortal soul so she’d forever haunt Penmort, she also cast a spell so she would know, without doubt, the one, true love of its master, for eternity, so she could make every ancestor pay for her spurned love. Only the true loves were put to death. The other ones, well, I reckon she just annoyed them,” Fenella’s eyes went to Cassandra and she informed her as an aside, “She can be annoying too, not just scary.”
Abby felt the need to point out the obvious, “Cash isn’t even Penmort’s master.”
At that, Fenella made a weird, squeaky noise in the back of her throat.
“What?” Cassandra asked, leaning forward.
Fenella’s gaze darted around the room not landing on any of them and finally, eyes on her knees, she said softly, “Everyone knows Cash should own that house. Everyone knows he was the true heir. Everyone knows Anthony Beaumaris loved Myra Fraser. He just didn’t marry her because she was a loon.”
Abby bit her lip in order not to laugh, or yell, at Fenella describing Cash’s mother as “a loon”.
“That doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t own the house,” Mrs. Truman put in and Fenella looked at her.
“That’s true. But he should,” Fenella replied. “The line has never gone from brother-to-brother. It’s always gone from father-to-son. Always.”
“He still doesn’t own Penmort,” Cassandra pressed.
“But he should,” Fenella returned firmly. “And Anthony died while making provisions to the castle’s covenant that would transfer title to his son, even if born out of wedlock.”
Cassandra’s eyebrows went up and she murmured, “That’s interesting.”
“It is,” Fenella murmured back, “especially when you know that Anthony died in a car accident.”
Abby’s breath caught at this news and she stared at Cash’s cousin.
“A car accident?” Abby whispered.
Fenella nodded. “Something was wrong with the brakes.”
“That’s terrible,” Mrs. Truman remarked.
Fenella pulled in a breath. “When I say something was wrong with the brakes, I mean something weird was wrong with the brakes. The police reckoned they’d been tampered with but they could never prove anything.”
“Oh my Lord,” Abby breathed.
“Very interesting,” Cassandra muttered while sitting back.
Mrs. Truman’s gaze snapped to Cassandra. “Why? Outside of the fact that Fraser’s father was likely murdered, of course.”
Cassandra took a sip of tea and put the cup back in her saucer. “It’s interesting because, if that’s so, Cash Fraser is, rightly, Penmort’s master. And Vivianna likely knows that or senses it. Which means Vivianna’s actions last week weren’t simply meant to be a warning or simple malice. It means Abby is genuinely in the line-of-fire.”
“Listen to me people,” Abby cut in with frustration (and maybe a hint of fear). “I’m not Cash’s true love. Okay? Seriously. Not. His. True. Love. Therefore, I don’t fit the profile of the victims.”
Everyone stared at her.
Finally, Mrs. Truman spoke, “He does seem rather fond of you.”
Cassandra’s eyes locked on her. “For a bloke who doesn’t feel strongly for you, he seemed pretty outrageously pissed off on your behalf the other night.”
Fenella added on a mini-shriek, “I think it’s love. Mummy does too!”
Abby threw a hand up and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, muttering a defeated, “Bloody hell.”
Mrs. Truman made a “humph” sound before commanding, “Let’s move on. Cassandra, what have you got?”
Cassandra leaned forward and put her cup and saucer on the table, sat back and stated, “Not much that’s good.”
“Explain,” Mrs. Truman demanded.
Cassandra drew in a breath and looked at Abby. “As a mortal, you can’t fight a ghost. They’ve got paranormal powers, you don’t. Most ghosts just hang out and haunt. Some ghosts, the not-so-good variety, cause havoc. Others, like Vivianna, who was a witch and a pretty good one as far as I can tell, can be pretty powerful.”
“This is not sounding good,” Abby mumbled.
“If you want to defeat a ghost you have four options,” Cassandra continued.
“And those are?” Abby asked.
“The first, you find its mortal remains and burn them,” Cassandra replied.
“I’ve seen that on TV,” Abby told her, and she had. That show with two hot brothers, one sensitive, one wise-cracking, both running around fighting demons, burning bones and shooting spirits with shotguns loaded with salt.
That show was great!
Cassandra nodded. “It’s true.”
“Well, it’s gross to dig up a grave and burn bones but let’s do that,” Abby suggested brightly.
“Can’t,” Mrs. Truman put in.
“Why not?” Abby queried and Mrs. Truman looked at Fenella.
“I’ve done a little research over the years, seeing as I’ve lived with Vivianna for, what feels like, ever,” Fenella told them. “I found out the townspeople didn’t really like her much. They were into all that hocus pocus stuff back then and knew about the burning-the-bones-thing so, after she threw herself off the castle, they gathered together the pieces and burned her remains.”
Abby did a little shiver at the thought of gathering up Vivianna’s “pieces” then she enquired, “Then how can she still be around?”
“Either they didn’t salt it first, doesn’t work if you don’t salt it,” Cassandra explained, “or, if they did, which they likely did, because everyone knows you salt the body before burning it, then Vivianna probably knew she’d have to get around that. So, she left some earthy remains somewhere.”
“Okay then,” Abby said slowly, “we’ll find her remains and burn them.”
“In a week?” Mrs. Truman demanded then finished on a firm, “Impossible.”
Abby stared at Mrs. Truman thinking she was, unfortunately, right.
“Okay, what’s choice number two?” Abby asked on a sigh.
“Choice number two was what we were doing at your house Saturday night,” Cassandra answered. “A mortal can’t fight a ghost, but a ghost can fight a ghost. We were seeing if there were any of your relatives hanging around who could help out. Normally you can’t leave the place you haunt. And that place has to be either where you died, where you lived or somewhere you spent a lot of time. But I know a spell that can un-tether a ghost. Not for long, but for long enough for your relative either to take down Vivianna, or provide you with protection while you’re at the castle.”
“I’m guessing that didn’t work,” Abby remarked.
Cassandra shook her head. “Nope. Fortunately for them and you under normal circumstances, all your relatives have gone on to the next plane. Under these circumstances, it’s rather unfortunate.”
“What’s choice three?” Abby asked.
“Choice three is that you take a potion which would make you able to fight a ghost. It would give you keener senses so you’d see her, even if she wasn’t making herself visible. If done right, the potion would mean you could sense she was coming, giving you a warning. If done really right, the potion would allow you to combat her, physically or at least ethereally,” Cassandra explained.
Abby thought that sounded great. “Let’s do that.”
Cassandra shook her head and Abby’s shoulders fell.
“The potion needs three weeks to ferment. A month to work well. About six months to work well enough to fight back. It isn’t often you need to fight a ghost. I didn’t have any in my larder. I made a batch after Mrs. Truman called and explained what was going on but it won’t be ready in time,” Cassandra told Abby.