“I was today,” Fenella reminded him and Alistair’s narrowed eyes shot to her.
Then Alistair turned to the police declaring, “This is rubbish.”
“It doesn’t sound like rubbish to me,” Honor commented. “How often does this happen? I mean, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to most people even once, but now it’s happened to Cash twice? That’s just plain weird.”
“We’ll look into it,” one of the police muttered, obviously desiring not to be caught in the middle of a family squabble and they again turned to leave.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Suzanne encouraged, standing and giving them a charming smile as she moved their way and Cash watched her eyes warming to an inviting, suggestive allure that Cash was used to having directed at him. She touched one of the police on his arm and murmured, “I’ll just walk you to your car.”
Watching her walk the police out, Cash reconsidered allowing Suzanne to stay at the castle.
And definitely Honor and Fenella could stay.
Abby’s hand released his as she rose and looked at Nicola.
“I’m so sorry. Every time I’m here it seems I’m having some kind of acci –” she started.
Cash watched, surprised, as Nicola’s eyes sliced to Abby and her voice was unusually forceful when she interrupted, “Don’t you apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. Not one thing.”
At the fierceness in her tone everyone in the room went still except Cash. He moved to Abby’s side and slid an arm around her waist.
Abby and Nicola stared at each other and finally Nicola blinked and turned away.
“Right!” she exclaimed shrugging off her mood. “I’ve a million and one things to do. Honor, go rescue those policemen from Suzanne, I need her. Fenella, you take a rest and when you feel up to it, find me. Abby, you and Cash try to salvage your afternoon,” her gaze turned to Alistair, “and you…” she paused giving him an unreadable look, “do whatever it is you do.”
Then she hurried from the room.
Honor glanced at Cash and Abby before she followed her mother.
Cash put pressure on Abby’s waist and started to lead her from the room but he was intercepted by Alistair putting a hand to his arm.
“Cash,” he started, “son, you don’t believe –”
Cash’s eyes had gone to his arm when Alistair touched him but they cut to his uncle as Cash pulled his arm away.
“Don’t ever,” Cash’s voice was lethal, “call me ‘son’.”
Cash saw red started creeping up his uncle’s neck as Alistair took a step back and Cash continued moving, guiding Abby to their room.
Once they arrived, he shut the door and Abby stormed deep into the room.
Then she started pacing.
Then she started ranting, however she did this quietly.
“I do not believe,” she hissed, “that Alistair tried to kill you.”
“Abby –” Cash started but she talked over him.
“On the day of his anniversary! Valentine’s Day!” she snapped. “Nicola has been planning this for nine months! Nine!” she clipped, lifting both hands up to Cash to show him nine fingers. “And he attempts the murder of my boyfriend,” she thumped her chest for emphasis, “on Nicola’s special day!”
Cash bit back a smile at her words and tried again, “Darling, calm –” but she kept going.
“He tried to kill you on Valentine’s Day,” she repeated, “and nearly killed his stepdaughter!”
Cash leaned his shoulders against the door and crossed his arms on his chest deciding to let her get it out. She needed to vent so they could move on with the weekend and she could keep her wits about her. She was going to need them.
He watched her pace and rant, her arms waving around. He thought, regardless of their murderous circumstances (now both Cash and Abby were on different firing lines), she looked quite adorable in her muted fury.
And while he watched her something suddenly occurred to him. Something he hadn’t considered before. Something vital that freed a lock deep inside him that he didn’t know was secured.
Throughout their short relationship, she reminded him of his mother, not in good ways, but in bad. Her mood swings, erratic behaviour and the depth of her pain which he could not fathom, nor did he think he could do anything about.
He thought about Abby manically packing her bag, taking too many pills to kill unknown pain, raving about a ghost.
He was used to this bizarre and alarming behaviour from his mother. He was used to a life of hour-to-hour, even sometimes minute-to-minute, not knowing where her crazed mind would take her, dragging Cash along with her.
And he’d accepted it from Abby but held himself aloof, protecting himself with an exit plan.
But Abby wasn’t mentally ill.
Abby was simply spirited. She also had been in the final throes of escaping a deep grief that had her imprisoned in its grip for four years.
She was now over that grief. She had let her guard down and given herself to him.
Not only that, she was putting herself in danger for no other reason but to make his legacy safe. It had nothing to do with her but she was doing it anyway.
Risking her life.
For Cash.
When his thoughts came back to the room, the edge he’d carried all his life had faded away. The peace he felt with Abby settled around him like a warm, nurturing shroud.
And at that moment, Cash Fraser vowed he was going to keep that peace and the only person in his life who’d ever given it to him.
Not for awhile.
Forever.
Abby completely missed his life-altering resolution and was still seething. “It took everything I had not to walk right across the room and kick him in the shin.”
He grinned at the visual she created, uncrossed his arms and walked to her as she stood, no longer pacing but planted and solid and glaring at him.
He stopped close and slid his arms around her. “Are you done?”
“No,” she snapped.
He waited. She was silent.
Then she took in a deep breath and said, “Okay, maybe I’m done.”
Cash burst out laughing and while doing so he felt her body relax. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him.
He looked down at her to see she’d tipped her head back to watch him laugh. The anger had gone out of her face. The awe he’d seen only once had replaced it.
Then she whispered, “I love it when you laugh.”
That shroud drew closer, grew warmer and his arms tightened around her.