“Of course you’re right, Mum,” Suzanne agreed. “Though, I will say, I do hope Anthony Beaumaris hangs around after Vivianna is gone. I would just love to hear what he has to say.”
“Shut your goddamned mouth,” Alistair snapped.
“Make me,” she snapped back and Alistair made as if to move but Cash’s voice cracked through the room like a whiplash.
“You take one step closer to her, Alistair, I’ll throw you out the f**king window myself.”
Alistair’s body froze but his hate filled eyes shot to Cash.
“I should never have invited you to this house,” he clipped.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Cash concurred then Abby’s tense body went solid when he spoke his next words. “I’ll not make the same mistake.”
“I wouldn’t step foot in your home even if you paid me,” Alistair returned.
“You did five minutes ago,” Cash retorted, Abby’s breath caught and the air in the room went still as everyone’s eyes riveted on Cash.
Alistair’s face paled, his lips parted in shock but he quickly recovered and slid into bluster. “What are you on about?”
“I’m on about the lien I have on Penmort,” Cash informed him. “The one I purchased two months ago from a very grateful bank who hadn’t been receiving payments for six months. Nor, I expect, did they want to foreclose and be saddled with a castle they would likely never be able to unload. I don’t share that reluctance, I’m foreclosing now.”
“I knew this would be interesting,” Suzanne commented happily.
At the same time Fenella muttered, “Oh my.”
And at the same time Honor let out an amused chuckle.
Alistair ignored their onlookers, he only had eyes for Cash.
“You can’t be serious,” he breathed.
“Deadly,” Cash shot back.
Alistair’s hands fisted at his sides as his face grew red and he declared, “I’ll pay you.”
“You don’t have the money to pay me,” Cash reminded him.
Alistair leaned forward. “Then I’ll start selling. The Wedgewood collection alone –”
Cash’s body went visibly tight before he clipped out, “You sell one piece of my legacy, I’ll see you in court, day in and day out, until the only thing you have left is the clothes on your f**king back.”
Abby, already close to Cash, got closer and her fingers curled around his.
His hand gave hers a light squeeze right before Alistair grinned and scoffed, “Your legacy? That’s damned funny. Penmort has never been held outside the legitimate line.”
“That isn’t exactly true,” Honor put in airily and everyone looked to her as she continued, talking like she was a history teacher and they were her class. “In 1697, Edward Beaumaris, never married, died without a legitimate heir. However, being somewhat of a rake, he had five illegitimate children, three boys and two girls. The first born boy, Randall, assumed the Beaumaris name and took over as master of the castle.”
“Edward Beaumaris obviously didn’t have a brother,” Alistair retorted.
“Actually, he had four,” Honor returned, a font of ready knowledge about the Beaumaris family.
Clearly, Abby thought, over the last twenty-five years Honor had spent a good deal of time in the library.
Nicola let out a soft laugh, Alistair’s gaze cut to her and his voice was hideous when he hissed, “Shut your bloody mouth.”
At that Cash dropped Abby’s hand and in three long strides he was in Alistair’s space. Alistair, taken unawares, belatedly shuffled back but Cash kept advancing until he had his uncle pinned against the wall.
Once there Cash leaned threateningly closer but didn’t touch the older man.
“Your days of malice toward the Fitzhugh women are over, starting now. I hear you’ve even looked at one of them funny, tomorrow or twenty years in the future, I swear to Christ you’ll wish you were never f**king born. Do you get my meaning?”
“Back off,” Alistair demanded but his voice held a betraying tremor.
Cash didn’t move instead he repeated, “I asked, do you get my meaning?”
“Frankly, I’ll be thrilled if I never see them again,” Alistair snapped, his voice and words ugly.
“I’m sure they feel the same,” Cash replied, stepped back and then moved away from Alistair, his eyes going to Nicola. “You and your daughters are free to stay at Penmort for as long as you wish.”
“You’re not taking Penmort!” Alistair shouted and Cash stopped on his way back to Abby and turned to his uncle.
“I am,” Cash announced, “tomorrow, I’ve got six people coming to the castle to do an inventory. You’ve got a week to find other accommodation, gather together your clothes and other personal belongings, none of which will have any attachment to the history this building, and you’re getting the f**k out.”
Abby wanted to clap her hands, jump up and down and shout, “Hurrah!” but Alistair wasn’t finished.
“I pay on the notes, you’ve got no –”
“You fight me, I’ll drag your ass into court and demand a DNA test,” Cash returned and Alistair’s mottled face became confused.
“A DNA test?” he asked.
Cash for some reason didn’t utter an immediate retort.
Abby watched as his jaw grew tight and he stared at his uncle a moment before he replied, “You don’t want to continue this conversation with an audience.”
Alistair, proving once again he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tack in the box, queried snidely, “Are you insinuating I’m not a Beaumaris?”
“Trust me, Alistair, you want to back down,” Cash advised.
“How bloody dare you make that accusation! Of all the bloody cheek, you,” he jeered, “claiming I’m not a blood Beaumaris.”
“Look around you,” Cash stated, indicating the portraits with a jerk of his head, all the pictures of the past masters of the castle sharing a strong resemblance with Cash. His voice had grown quiet when he continued, “Now look at me. What do you see?”
Alistair didn’t take his eyes off Cash. “I see a bloody upstart is what I see.”
“Back down,” Cash warned.
Alistair wasn’t smart enough to catch Cash’s hint. “Do what you will. I’ll see you in court.”
Cash shrugged and turned back around, moving toward Abby again while saying, “So be it.”