Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(41)

By the time Mrs. Truman announced it was time to eat and demanded they all go to the dining room, Abby felt Cash deserved some gratitude for his efforts.

While Mrs. Truman headed out to see to the meal, Abby grabbed Cash’s hand, delaying him as Kieran and Jenny moved from the room.

He stopped and his chin tipped down in order that he could look at her enquiringly.

She smiled up at him and told him in a whisper, “You… are… the… master.”

His eyes lit with humour at her words but he asked, “I’m sorry?”

“Mrs. Truman. You’re handling her like a master. I know you can’t tell, because, well, she’s Mrs. Truman but I think she’s half in love with you,” Abby informed him.

The light in his eyes stayed there but it grew warmer just as his head descended and his face disappeared in the hair by her ear.

“I hope, when we’re alone later, you’ll still think I’m a master,” he murmured teasingly and Abby’s body gave a delicious tremble right before all the tension that had ebbed out of her came slamming right back.

What did that mean?

She decided instantly that she did not want to know.

Cash felt her body go solid and apparently her reaction amused him. She knew this because he chuckled before he led her into the dining room.

The minute they entered Mrs. Truman bossily informed them they were switching partners and as the men made their way to their assigned seats, Jenny grabbed Abby’s forearm and tugged.

When she had Abby’s ear close to her mouth, she hissed, “What on earth is going on?”

Abby knew what her friend was referring to but she decided to play dumb.

“What do you mean?” Abby whispered.

“I mean you and Hunky International Spy Chaser, that’s what I mean,” Jenny whispered back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abby was still playing dumb and still whispering, not wanting anyone to hear.

Jenny’s fingers tightened on Abby’s arm. “Bickering on the front step like an old married couple. The finger action on the couch. Snuggling,” she hissed, “in company,” she went on. “You’re supposed to be his girlfriend but this is…” she hesitated. “I don’t know what it is!” she finished.

“Jenny –” Abby started but Mrs. Truman was getting cross at the delay.

“What are you two ninnies whispering about? Come on, share with the group,” she called.

Abby turned toward the table, thankful for once at Mrs. Truman’s interference, and answered, “Nothing, Mrs. Truman.”

“Women problems,” Jenny, for some momentarily-possessed-by-Satan reason, explained.

“Oh dear, you aren’t pregnant are you?” Mrs. Truman asked Jenny as Abby took her seat next to Kieran and Jenny slid into hers next to Cash.

“Um, no,” Jenny answered and her eyes moved to Kieran.

It was an insensitive question even though Mrs. Truman didn’t know that (and probably wouldn’t care). They’d been trying now for three years with no luck.

Mrs. Truman speared Abby with her eyes, “Please tell me you aren’t.”

Abby was taking a sip of her wine when the question was asked and she choked in horror and disbelief before saying, “Me? Pregnant?”

Mrs. Truman rolled her eyes to the ceiling and for some ungodly reason started talking to Abby’s grandmother, “I tell you, Meg, children these days. There’s no controlling them.” Mrs. Truman looked back to Abby but jutted a thumb at Cash. “I don’t care how handsome and charming he is; don’t let him get you into trouble.”

Kieran burst out laughing, Cash turned a devastating smile in Abby’s direction and Jenny stared at her speculatively.

Abby hoped the floor would form a mouth, open up and swallow her whole.

“Mrs. Truman, why don’t you stab me with your butter knife?” Abby requested.

“And why would I do a fool thing like that?” Mrs. Truman shot back but even as she did so her lips were twitching.

“Because it’d be less painful,” Abby returned blandly and for the first time ever Abby saw Mrs. Truman laugh.

Although she was trying to be funny, and she was weirdly pleased with herself for making Mrs. Truman laugh, Abby didn’t think anything was amusing.

Instead, she thought, with everything that had happened over the past six years, and everything that had happened recently, and everything that was going to happen, it was high time to get drunk.

* * * * *

“Abigail, you’re inebriated,” Mrs. Truman remarked jovially – yes, jovially!

“Am not,” Abby returned cheerfully, but this was a lie, because she was.

It was after their delicious, four-course meal (not including the cheese tray), served by the silent Marco, they were having after dinner drinks in the living room.

Jenny had gotten over her freak out at Abby and Cash’s behaviour and also conquered her fear of Mrs. Truman. Once she entered the conversation, drawing Cash out more, familiarly teasing Kieran and amusingly going head-to-head with Mrs. Truman, the evening became fun.

Abby joined in and through it all she had more wine than was prudent.

But she didn’t give a good God damn.

She didn’t like what had happened to her life but she weirdly did like what was currently happening to it, even though she knew shouldn’t, it wasn’t sensible.