Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(159)

Nicola stood with him, clutching the throw to her shoulders.

When he made a move to the door, her hand came out from under the throw and Cash stopped.

“Since Robbie,” she started, her voice cracked and she stopped.

Cash waited, knowing Robert Fitzhugh was her first husband, a man who died young after a valiant but ugly and ultimately unsuccessful battle with cancer.

Cash watched Nicola swallow, take in a deep breath and then she said in a stronger voice, “After Robbie, I messed up. I kidded myself for years but since he died, well, since he died, we haven’t had a real family.”

“You do know,” Cash returned and he saw tears fill her eyes. He also saw the hope come back and some joy but there was also sadness.

It was the sadness that cut through him like a razor.

“You miss him still,” Cash noted gently and he saw pain cross her face.

“Every day,” she whispered.

That was precisely, after watching Abby with Ben last night, what Cash didn’t want to hear.

Clearly, with her next words, Nicola read Cash’s face as well.

“She will too,” Nicola said softly, her eyes tender on Cash even as her words scored his soul. Nicola carried on. “But since she now has you, it’ll be like she misses her parents. People she loves but who’re now lost. She’ll never stop loving him but she’s a sweet girl with a lot of love to give and a lot of life in front of her.” Nicola moved forward, her hand caught Cash’s and squeezed. “Cash, my dearest, she’ll always love him but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of love to give to you.”

For some reason unknown to him, Cash confided, “I don’t like to share.”

Nicola laughed softly while giving his hand another squeeze before dropping it.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” she commented then said sagely, “however I figure you’ll decide you can, even if you don’t like it.”

He hated to admit it but he knew she was not wrong.

He grinned down at her as he lifted his hand to her face, his thumb sliding across her still smooth cheek. It was a gesture twenty-four hours ago he would never have made and likely she would not have accepted.

Now, however, she turned her face into his hand and smiled.

Witnessing her unguarded beauty Cash thought not for the first time that his uncle was the greatest of fools.

He dropped his hand and muttered, “Do you want me to go down and order you some coffee?”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it in a minute.”

Cash nodded and moved away, glancing back at the door to see her resume her seat. She pulled her feet back up on its edge, a position he instinctively knew she’d taken thousands of times in the past and she would have the opportunity to assume thousands more times in the future.

Yes, he thought, justice.

He continued down the hall and was passing Suzanne’s door when it was yanked open, Cash’s hand was caught and he was pulled roughly into the room.

Cash’s body froze, it turned, he gritted his teeth and his eyes sliced to Suzanne.

She’d closed the door and was standing in front of it wearing nothing but a short, revealing peach nightgown edged with beige lace and a matching short dressing gown which was hanging open widely, leaving very little to the imagination.

He was disappointed her brief demonstration of humanity last night didn’t last long. He also had every intention of removing her bodily from the door if he had to.

“Suzanne, move out of my way,” he demanded.

“Five minutes, Cash,” she requested softly and his eyes drilled into hers.

He saw with vague surprise there was no malice or spitefulness nor any deviousness. Her blue eyes were open, warm and entreating and he thought she’d never looked prettier.

“Five minutes,” she repeated on a whispered plea.

Cash planted his feet and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Five minutes,” he agreed on an unhappy growl.

She opened her mouth then closed it. She opened it again then closed it.

She looked away and lifted her hand, fingers sifting through her hair at her forehead, pulling it away from her face in an uncertain and even endearing way that reminded him of Abby.

Her eyes came back to his. “This isn’t easy for me to say.”

“Whatever it is you have four minutes and thirty seconds to say it.”

She grabbed the edges of her dressing gown and wrapped them tightly around her body.

She sucked in her lips and then spoke so quickly it was as if she didn’t get it all out as fast as she could, she would lose the ability to speak for the rest of her life.

“When I was a kid, I thought Vivianna was my friend. She liked me. She talked to me. She was always there when Alistair was mean to me. She always made me feel better.” Her arms wrapped tighter around her body as she kept going. “She’d tell me stories about the Beaumaris men, their beauty, their virility, their honour, pride, stubbornness, confidence, arrogance. Cash, she had hundreds of stories about the masters of this castle, hundreds of romantic stories about generation after generation of men she loved.”

Cash misread her meaning and stated, “Vivianna is gone, Suzanne.”

“I know and I won’t miss her,” Suzanne replied swiftly. “What I’m saying is a little girl who lost her father finds herself in a big, creepy castle with a stepdad who’s a git. To a girl like that, those stories were…” she hesitated and continued on a whisper, “those stories meant the world to me.” Cash remained silent and Suzanne carried on in a voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear her. “Then you came to visit.”