Cassandra and Angus looked at each other then back at Abby.
“If you aren’t, then you have nothing to worry about,” Cassandra said.
“Well that’s a relief,” Abby smiled.
“But if you weren’t, she’d no’ have been able to touch you, lass,” Angus put in gently.
Abby stared at him then asked, “What?”
“Thought she’d already harmed you, shoved you in the back?” Angus asked.
“Yes, but –” Abby started.
Angus cut her off by saying, “True love.”
Abby blinked.
Then something started to bud in the region of her heart, something that felt a lot like hope.
“I still don’t think –” Regardless of the hope in her heart, she continued to resist but Cassandra interrupted this time.
“Okay, we get it, you both are in the throes of a new relationship and you’re worried it’s getting too heavy too fast so you’re in denial. You’ve got to move passed that, mate. Whether he loves you, he doesn’t love you, whatever, it’s been established you’re a target and you’re vulnerable. Let’s move on.”
“He loves her,” Angus muttered under his breath.
“Let’s move on,” Cassandra said firmly.
“I’m saying he loves her,” Angus repeated, louder this time.
“Let’s move on!” Cassandra snapped, now firm and loud.
Angus’s hands came up. “All right, all right, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
Cassandra looked at Abby. “We have another piece of somewhat good news.”
Abby didn’t like the “somewhat” part but she’d take any good news attached to Vivianna.
“What’s that?”
“She plays with her victims,” Angus stated.
Abby felt her stomach drop and whispered, “Pardon?”
“Plays with her victims,” Angus reiterated. “She doesn’t go in for the kill right away. She messes with ‘em, sometimes for years. At the very least until they provide Penmort with an heir.”
“Oh my God,” Abby breathed.
“This is good news,” Cassandra informed her and Abby turned to the witch.
“How can this be good news?” she cried. “I don’t want her playing with me!”
“A broken arm is a lot better than dead,” Angus commented logically.
“Easy for you to say!” Abby exploded. “I’ve got an evening gown to wear Saturday night and the cuts on my arms she gave me last time are still pink!”
Angus stared at her like she might have a screw loose but Cassandra got close.
“What we’re saying,” she started quietly, “is tonight’s not your night to die. Even if this doesn’t work, you should leave the castle breathing,” Abby turned wild eyes to Cassandra but she kept talking. “Just keep your head, Abby. Angus knows what he’s doing. So do I. If Angus doesn’t take her down, the only thing Vivianna might learn tonight is that she’s got a worthy adversary. But we’ll outsmart her,” her hand came up and gave Abby’s upper arm a squeeze before she said, “I promise.”
Abby felt slightly mollified by her promise, but not much.
“Now, get to the castle,” Cassandra finished.
“Keep a clear head. Eyes open. Stay vigilant. Anything that doesn’t feel right, you reckon it isn’t and you move,” Angus coached her. “You feel any cold draughts, a chill, she’s close.” Angus came near too and both Cassandra and he crowded her but Abby didn’t move, Angus went on gently, “Remember, lass, wherever you are, I’ll be watching.”
Abby nodded. She gave them a shaky smile and got in her car. She put the amulet around her neck, tucking it into her sweater so it couldn’t be seen.
She looked to the side and saw them both standing where she left them, close together.
She gave them an idiotic thumbs up, started her car and headed to her doom.
It was after a glass of wine, after dinner, Abby, Fenella and Honor were sitting the drawing room and they were drinking coffee.
Nothing had happened, except they’d had a pleasant night (when they weren’t all looking around thinking something was going to happen, that was).
“Do you need to go to the loo?” Fenella asked on a prompt, her voice overly-loud and squeakily-high.
“No, she doesn’t have to go to the loo,” Honor snapped.
“I thought maybe she needed to use the loo,” Fenella repeated, bugging her eyes out at Honor as if Honor hadn’t already caught on that Fenella was quickly losing endurance for the wait for Vivianna to show.
“She doesn’t need to use the loo,” Honor repeated right back, also bugging out her eyes and if she could use the throat-slit gesture to shut her sister up without Vivianna seeing it, she would.
Not that clever, ghosty she-bitch Vivianna hadn’t already cottoned on to their game.
Abby took in a breath.
She had an idea, it was a scary idea but Fenella was right, something had to give.
So she shared, “I thought maybe you girls could give me a tour of the castle.”
“I’d love that!” Fenella shrieked.
“Great idea,” Honor cried, jumping up from her chair.
Fenella got up as well and clapped her hands together, appearing like she was genuinely looking forward to this. “There’s so much to see, where to start?”
Honor leaned into Abby and confided, “She loves this old heap.”
“It isn’t an old heap. It’s beautiful,” Fenella shot back then squealed, “The armoury! Let’s start in the armoury!”
Considering the circumstances, Abby would have picked a room that didn’t hold ancient weapons but she followed Fenella anyway.
And Fenella was right, it wasn’t an old heap.
It was beautiful.
And it was perfect, absolutely perfect, for Cash.
If she could build something that represented his strength, his energy, his beauty, it would have been Penmort.
The armoury was filled with ancient weapons, and even more ancient flying pendants which dripped in veritable rags from their poles, they were so old and way cool. There was a billiards room with an enormous billiards table. There were the inner and outer halls with their colossal fireplaces that led to the huge dining room with a gleaming table that sat twenty. There was the grand stair hall with intricately carved balustrades and a grand piano at the foot. There was also a study with an ornate carved desk that was so huge two people could sleep on it without touching.
On the second floor were bedrooms, many of them having their own sitting rooms, dressing rooms and bathrooms. The second floor also held the morning room, and the leather gallery filled with portraits of Beaumarises past. Lastly, the second floor also held a beautiful, cosy sewing room which was situated in a turret.
Fenella told Abby the third floor held the now unused servants quarters, nursery and school room. She explained as well that the rooms below the ground floor were also mostly no longer utilised but had been, in olden times, for the running the house, including the kitchens, housekeeper’s and butler’s offices and quarters, a coal room, laundry rooms, things like that.
Fenella said on the first floor they’d missed the conservatory and library. As these were Fenella’s favourite places, they were to be their final destination.
They had made it to the long, handsome, wood-panelled gallery, filled with portraits of ancestors (and, Abby noted with some surprise and a vague sense of alarm, that all the women were blonde and all the men looked quite a bit like Cash).
Except, of course, Alistair’s portrait, which was the largest of any and the most pompous. Something about it, its size and the prominence of place, turned Abby’s stomach.