Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(73)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Abby’s surprised eyes went to Fenella. “Are you sure?”

“Well, no,” Fenella replied hesitantly then swallowed, “Vivianna’s scary and she’s mean. She never hurt any of us, not us girls, but she doesn’t like Alistair and she’s always doing stuff to him. And the servants. I don’t want to be on her bad side.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be involved,” Cassandra said gently and Fenella’s eyes moved to her.

“I also don’t want her around anymore,” Fenella looked at Abby. “I don’t want her to hurt anyone else and especially not someone like you.”

“Like me?” Abby asked, confused.

“Like you,” Fenella answered.

“What does that mean, like me?” Abby pushed when Fenella’s answer didn’t contain any further information.

“The love of Cash’s life!” Fenella announced way-too-loudly, almost in a screech.

Abby felt her heart stutter to a stop.

Then she whispered, “I’m not the love of Cash’s life.”

“You are,” Fenella returned.

“Honestly, Fenella, I’m not. We’re –” Abby began.

“You are,” Fenella interrupted, “even if it wasn’t obvious to everyone around, she knows. She knows. Vivianna knows exactly who Penmort’s master loves best and dearest. True love. Complete, devoted and unconditional. Only those loves does she kill.”

Abby’s eyes skipped around the room to Mrs. Truman then to Cassandra and back to rest on Fenella.

They all were watching her.

“Fenella, honestly, Cash and I are –”

“In love,” Fenella finished.

“No, we aren’t,” Abby insisted, her voice getting stronger.

“Okay, well, I haven’t known Cash all that long but I do know some stuff. First, I know he never brought a woman to Penmort and he’s had loads. Loads and loads and loads,” Fenella stated.

“We get it, loads, move on,” Mrs. Truman demanded, circling her hand.

“Second, every time he comes, he acts like the minute he enters he wants to leave. He doesn’t like Suzanne and he hates Alistair. The only one he really likes is Mummy. When you were there, it was different. He was different. I’ve never seen him that way with anyone. None of us had. Mummy, Honor and I were in a lather about it for days!” Fenella went on.

“I still don’t –” Abby started to protest, even though everything Fenella was saying was freaking her out, but Fenella talked over her.

“And everyone knows Vivianna’s spell. She not only cast a spell over her immortal soul so she’d forever haunt Penmort, she also cast a spell so she would know, without doubt, the one, true love of its master, for eternity, so she could make every ancestor pay for her spurned love. Only the true loves were put to death. The other ones, well, I reckon she just annoyed them,” Fenella’s eyes went to Cassandra and she informed her as an aside, “She can be annoying too, not just scary.”

Abby felt the need to point out the obvious, “Cash isn’t even Penmort’s master.”

At that, Fenella made a weird, squeaky noise in the back of her throat.

“What?” Cassandra asked, leaning forward.

Fenella’s gaze darted around the room not landing on any of them and finally, eyes on her knees, she said softly, “Everyone knows Cash should own that house. Everyone knows he was the true heir. Everyone knows Anthony Beaumaris loved Myra Fraser. He just didn’t marry her because she was a loon.”

Abby bit her lip in order not to laugh, or yell, at Fenella describing Cash’s mother as “a loon”.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t own the house,” Mrs. Truman put in and Fenella looked at her.

“That’s true. But he should,” Fenella replied. “The line has never gone from brother-to-brother. It’s always gone from father-to-son. Always.”

“He still doesn’t own Penmort,” Cassandra pressed.

“But he should,” Fenella returned firmly. “And Anthony died while making provisions to the castle’s covenant that would transfer title to his son, even if born out of wedlock.”

Cassandra’s eyebrows went up and she murmured, “That’s interesting.”

“It is,” Fenella murmured back, “especially when you know that Anthony died in a car accident.”

Abby’s breath caught at this news and she stared at Cash’s cousin.

“A car accident?” Abby whispered.

Fenella nodded. “Something was wrong with the brakes.”

“That’s terrible,” Mrs. Truman remarked.

Fenella pulled in a breath. “When I say something was wrong with the brakes, I mean something weird was wrong with the brakes. The police reckoned they’d been tampered with but they could never prove anything.”

“Oh my Lord,” Abby breathed.

“Very interesting,” Cassandra muttered while sitting back.

Mrs. Truman’s gaze snapped to Cassandra. “Why? Outside of the fact that Fraser’s father was likely murdered, of course.”

Cassandra took a sip of tea and put the cup back in her saucer. “It’s interesting because, if that’s so, Cash Fraser is, rightly, Penmort’s master. And Vivianna likely knows that or senses it. Which means Vivianna’s actions last week weren’t simply meant to be a warning or simple malice. It means Abby is genuinely in the line-of-fire.”

“Listen to me people,” Abby cut in with frustration (and maybe a hint of fear). “I’m not Cash’s true love. Okay? Seriously. Not. His. True. Love. Therefore, I don’t fit the profile of the victims.”

Everyone stared at her.

Finally, Mrs. Truman spoke, “He does seem rather fond of you.”

Cassandra’s eyes locked on her. “For a bloke who doesn’t feel strongly for you, he seemed pretty outrageously pissed off on your behalf the other night.”

Fenella added on a mini-shriek, “I think it’s love. Mummy does too!”

Abby threw a hand up and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, muttering a defeated, “Bloody hell.”

Mrs. Truman made a “humph” sound before commanding, “Let’s move on. Cassandra, what have you got?”

Cassandra leaned forward and put her cup and saucer on the table, sat back and stated, “Not much that’s good.”

“Explain,” Mrs. Truman demanded.