Love Beyond Reach: Book 8 of Morna’s Legacy Series Read online

  “Are ye alone, Kip? Shouldna Rab be here helping ye?”

  Kip waved a dismissive hand and scooted near Mary so I could join them.

  “Ach, the lad wouldna know what to do, and ’tis more trouble than ’tis worth to teach him. He said an errand—though he wouldna tell me what it was—needed his attention, and I saw no reason to keep him here.”

  Determined not to let this opportunity pass, I leaned forward to look across Kip at Mary.

  “Kip, I canna believe our good fortune. Why, Mary was telling me only this morning that she’d never seen a mare give birth.”

  Eyes wide and disbelieving, Kip took over the conversation just as I’d hoped.

  “No? Is this true, Mary? Surely, it canna be. Why, ye helped deliver Elspeth’s baby all on yer own.”

  Blushing, Mary shot me a quick glance before answering him. I had no idea whether or not what I said was true, but I hoped she had enough sense to go along with it without question.

  “Aye, ’tis true. Would ye mind if we stayed and watched? We’ll help if we need to.”

  Yawning, I threw my arms above my head and stretched dramatically.

  “Oh, Mary, I’m far too tired to stay, but I can see myself inside the castle if ye would like to wait for the birth.”

  In a gesture that surprised and filled me with hope, Kip reached out to gently touch Mary’s arm as he spoke.

  “Ye must stay. ’Tis a wondrous sight.”

  Content that my matchmaking would carry on fine without me, I bid them farewell and made my way along the short path from the stables to the castle.

  I loved the castle even more in the dead of night when none but me lay awake, and I was free to roam its halls undisturbed or watched. The castle would never belong to me in the way it would someday belong to Alasdair, but in the moments when I moved through its corridors unaccompanied by watchful eyes, it felt like I was its mistress. My affection for its stone walls and elegant beauty knew no bounds.

  I approached the door to my bedchamber with growing weariness as I considered just how shameful it would be to crawl into bed without changing out of my dress. As long as I woke early, none would be the wiser. It sounded delightful.

  Opening the door and slipping inside, I walked through the room’s darkness picturing my impending dreams as I crawled on top of my blankets still fully clothed.

  A sudden rustling sound near the window caused my head to whip in its direction. The shadowy figure of a man stood not far from my bed.

  With no hesitation, no worry over what practicing magic in front of another might do, I flicked my wrist and sent the candles scattered around my room blazing with light.

  At once, the man was revealed.

  “Rab?”

  The young man glanced around the room with horror.

  “’Tis true, then. Ye really are a witch.”

  He held the small chest which contained the jewels I wore only on the most special of occasions in his hands.

  “And ye are a thief. If ye mean to imply that my crime is worse than yer own, ye will surely find that my father would disagree. Unless ye wish me to call for him, ye will place my chest back where ye found it, and ye will sit on the ground at once.”

  Every last detail slipped into place inside my mind as a plan took form.

  He was quiet, brave, and foolish. If Rab could so easily sneak into my room without anyone else in the castle seeing him, then surely he could do the same in my father’s bedchamber.

  He would either steal Grier’s books for me, or my father would learn of his crime.

  The choice was his.

  Chapter 5

  Three glorious weeks of learning passed in a blur of sleepless nights and hazy days.

  As expected, Rab eagerly agreed to steal the books to avoid whatever punishment my father would have cast upon him. Within two days of finding Rab, jewel chest in hand, every last journal was hidden away in my room. I spent every night working my way through the dozens of journals. It would take time—years even—to perfect the various spells found within, but I was willing to spend the time to have such power at my disposal.

  In order to avoid suspicion, I only dared open the books once in my bedchamber for the evening. I would stay up long into the night reading and practicing until my eyes would close of their own accord. I was exhausted, happy, and terrified. The missing books wouldn’t go unnoticed forever, and I knew that after having seen the learning available to me within Grier’s books, I would never be able to go back to a life without them.

  On the day Alasdair returned from his mysterious journey, as we sat down for our first family dinner in months, the inevitable occurred.

  “Mary.” Father’s voice was harsh as he motioned for her to stay in the room after seeing the banquet of food she’d prepared and set before us.

  “Aye, sir? Is there anything else ye wish me to bring ye?”

  He shook his head and continued.

  “No, there is more here than we could eat in a fortnight. Once our meal is finished, I want ye to have every servant within and around the castle brought here to the dining hall. I’ve a matter I wish to discuss with all of ye.”

  Mary hid her concern well and nodded obligingly before turning to leave.

  The moment we were alone, Alasdair spoke. He looked tired and troubled. I knew something more tugged at him than what Father had just said.

  “Ye’ve never gathered everyone together before. What’s happened?”

  “We’ve a thief amongst the servants. A great many books have gone missing from my chamber. I intend to find who took them and why. I shall see them freed of their hands.”

  I swallowed and glanced down at my lap in a panic as I thought of Rab. Death would be preferable to the loss of one’s hands among the poor. For without hands to work with, a slow and painful death of starvation was bound to follow.

  “Books? What need would a servant have of books? Most of them canna read.” Alasdair’s voice was disbelieving. “’Tis possible they’ve been misplaced. When ye sent me to yer chamber before I left, I couldna find the letter ye sent me looking for. Ye keep yer chamber in a dreadful state.”

  Anger flashed in Father’s eyes, and his fist rattled against the table.

  “I dinna misplace two dozen books. O’course I doona believe the thief stole the books to read them. They are rare and valuable—one could sell them for a high price amongst those of particular interests.”

  I sat in rigid silence unsure of which action would make me look more guilty—saying nothing and pretending that I couldn’t hear them, or speaking up and joining in.

  I glanced up and caught Alasdair’s eyes and knew. My silence had already piqued his own suspicion of my involvement in this. I couldn’t allow it to raise my father’s.

  “Particular interests? What are the books about, Father?”

  He didn’t bother to look at me as he answered.

  “’Tis none of yer concern. Ye would all do best to take account of yer belongings. I doona believe my books can be the only stolen items.”

  The meal dragged on at a torturously slow pace. I couldn’t eat another bite. All I wanted was to escape to my room where I could try to come up with a way to prevent my accomplice from being revealed.

  Finally, when everyone else’s eating slowed, Alasdair came to my rescue.

  “Morna, I brought ye back a gift from my journey. If ye are finished eating, come with me so I may get it for ye.”

  Alasdair paused and turned to address our father.

  “I’ll join ye here when ye address them if ye wish it. It willna take the two of us long.”

  Father nodded, and I was up and out of my seat before he could change his mind. I knew I needed Alasdair’s help, but all I could think of was the weariness on his face. Something had happened while he was away—something terrible.

  I didn’t wait until we made it to my bedchamber, instead turning toward him the moment we were a safe distance from the dining hall.

&nb
sp; “What is it? Are ye injured?”

  “No, I’m fine. What I wish to speak to ye about can wait. What have ye done, Morna? I can tell by looking in yer eyes, ye know of what Da speaks.”

  Nearing my room, I reached for my brother’s arm and pulled him inside.

  “The books father spoke of—they are Grier’s spells and journals.”

  Alasdair’s face reddened and his jaw clenched.

  “I will never understand his fear of magic. ’Tis a blessing, not a curse, and ’tis dishonorable for ye to deny who ye are. How did ye learn he had them?”

  I told him everything—of Eoin’s discovery, of my pact with Rab, of everything I’d learned in the past weeks and of how I would run away from here before ever going without such knowledge again. When I finished, Alasdair stood in thoughtful silence for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his resolve was firm.

  “Go and tell Father that Mae has sent word asking for yer help. He willna like it, but he will allow it. Tell him ye will be gone three days and that Kip will escort ye to the village. Then, go to Kip and tell him everything. Have him prepare three horses and pack enough for a three-day journey. Elspeth willna be pleased that I’m leaving again, but I doona see another way. I’ll see to everything else.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “Aye. Rab’s guilt must come to light. Without someone to blame, Father will make life for the servants unbearable. Doona worry, I’ll not allow Father to harm him. One way or another, we will see him safely to another territory.”

  “I must get the books hidden away before we leave. What if Father looks for them?”

  Ahead of me, Alasdair nodded and shooed me from the room.

  “I know just the place. I’ll take them there myself. Go. Hurry. We’ve not much time. This is just the beginning of troubles we must discuss this night.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, Alasdair pushed me out into the hall and closed the door in my face.

  * * *

  “We’ll stop here.”

  With the sun just peaking over the horizon, Alasdair abruptly pulled his horse to a stop. Rab and I quickly did the same. We remained a good distance from the nearest territory, and I wouldn’t feel safe until we saw Rab away and settled from Conall land for good.

  Alasdair dismounted effortlessly then moved to pull Rab from atop his horse as if he were nothing more than a small child. Confused, I called after him as he led the man away.

  “What are ye doing? We should keep going. We…” I was left straddling my horse, Cadha, near an opening in the trees, staring after Alasdair as he attempted to lead Rab away from me.

  Gently nudging Cadha, I moved to block their path.

  “What do ye mean to do with him?”

  Alasdair rarely lost his patience with me but exhaustion made him irritable.

  “Even a man as foolish as him wouldna dare to step back into Conall territory after this night. There is no need to see him all the way to the next territory. I need to rest. I havena slept in days, and there is still much on my mind. We will bid farewell to Rab here.”

  The fear in Rab’s expression was evident. Alasdair was right. Rab would never again cross over into my father’s territory.

  Tightening his grip on Rab’s arm, Alasdair leaned in close, his voice a growl as he spoke directly to the thief.

  “Had I allowed my father to do as he wished, ye would have had no hope for a future. Doona steal from another. See this as a chance to live a better life. And hear this—if word of what ye know about my sister spreads throughout this land in any way, I shall kill ye with my own two hands.”

  Pledging to change his ways and keep my secret, Rab ran away the moment my brother released his grip.

  “Ye’ve more of Father in ye than ye show. Ye frightened even me.”

  Pulling a blanket from the top of his horse, Alasdair spread it on the ground and moved to lay on it. I could see from the weariness of his steps, he would be asleep within moments.

  “Good. I meant every word. There is nothing in this world I wouldna do to protect ye, lass.”

  While Alasdair slept, I led each of the three horses to the small stream just beyond the forest clearing. More accustomed—thanks to my nights reading Grier’s books—to being up until dawn, I wasn’t as sleepy as my brother. I was, however, stiff and sore from riding through the night. Walking over to Cadha, I opened my pack to search for my own blanket in the hopes that I might spread it on the ground and rest my body for a while. My blanket was nowhere to be found.

  “Are ye hiding it from me, Cadha? Or did Rab manage to take off with it?” Cadha neighed, and I took a moment to stroke her before moving over to Alasdair’s horse. In the haste with which we left the castle, I assumed some of my belongings had been placed on one of the other horses.

  As I reached inside Alasdair’s pack, a small piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. Bending to pick it up, I struggled to make sense of the nearly unreadable hand. Slowly, I pieced the words together as my hands shook.

  I found the home of the lass ye seek. I regret to inform ye of her recent death. Her home was set aflame by the laird of Kentrich territory. He believed her to be a witch. She perished in the fire.

  I could think of only one person Alasdair would have gone in search of who would be accused of witchcraft. Alasdair’s troubled expression suddenly made sense.

  He believed Grier was dead.

  I knew without doubt that she was not.

  Chapter 6

  Alasdair slept until midday. While I napped briefly, I spent most of my time impatiently tending to the horses. I wouldn’t wake my brother—not when it was so clear how desperately he needed the rest—but it took every bit of willpower I possessed to keep from doing so. There were so many things we needed to discuss.

  When at last I heard him stir, I left the horses and carried the small piece of parchment over to his blanket and plopped down in front of him, waving it in his face.

  “Is Grier the lass to which this man refers?”

  Still not fully awake, Alasdair stretched his exceedingly long legs and slowly pulled himself up to a seated position. His light brown hair fell in a mess of lovely waves around his shoulders. It was no wonder the female servants of the castle doted on him. Their ridiculous behavior made me hope I would never meet a man that turned me into such a fool.

  After a few blinks, Alasdair seemed to realize both what I’d said and what I held in my hand. Regret etched his face as he spoke.

  “Where did ye get that? ’Tis not the way I wished ye to learn of her death, lass. I’m so verra sorry.”

  I wanted to be certain before I said what I intuitively knew. I repeated my question.

  “So Grier is the woman mentioned in this letter, aye?”

  His eyes downward, Alasdair nodded.

  “Aye, lass.”

  Waving the parchment excitedly, I smiled and laid it down in front of him.

  “Whoever wrote this is wrong. Grier is no more dead than ye or I.”

  Interest piqued, my brother’s brows pinched together as he leaned forward and stared at me.

  “How can ye possibly know that?”

  I wasn’t sure, but I knew with absolute certainty that I was right.

  “I still feel her somehow. ’Tis as if our shared magic bonds us in a way I doona have the knowledge to understand. Grier is still alive.”

  Alasdair took in breath so quickly that his lungs made a painful noise at the sudden intrusion of cold hair. Relief seemed to roll off him as I looked on in wonder.

  I assumed Alasdair’s distress had come from his worry over how I would handle the news of Grier’s death, but I could see as I watched him that I had missed something in my assumption.

  “I dinna know ye cared for Grier so much.”

  A half-hearted, restrained smile crossed my brother’s face as he leaned back on his arms and looked across at me.

  “Grier was the first woman I ever loved.”

  Still not understandi
ng, I dismissed him.

  “Everyone was in love with Grier.”

  “No, lass. Ye doona understand. I wanted to marry her. I asked her more than once but she denied me every time, never giving me an explanation that made any sense. She held my heart in a way that only Elspeth has ever surpassed.”

  My mind reeled. While a kinder sister would have been more sympathetic toward her brother’s heartfelt confession, I couldn’t help but find it anything other than hysterically funny.

  “Alasdair, I know why she wouldna marry ye.”

  His brows lifted again as he twisted his head in doubt.

  “Do ye now? Please, do tell.”

  “Grier is at least four times yer age—older than our grandmother was.”

  I bent over and lost myself in a fit of hysterics as Alasdair’s eyes all but bulged from their sockets.

  “Trust me, lass. I know that canna be true. I saw more of Grier than I had right to at such a young age, and there was no part of her that was aged in any way.”

  I struggled to speak between bouts of laughter as I lifted from my doubled-over position to look at him.

  “Aye, ’tis true. Her magic allows her to appear whatever age she pleases. She told me that I would someday be able to do the same. We doona age like the rest of ye.”

  I watched Alasdair’s face carefully change from an expression of horror to amusement. Before long, he sat laughing even more loudly than I was.

  “I hardly know what to say. While I canna rightly express how pleased I am to hear that she is alive, I doona believe I’ll ever be able to think of her in the same way again.”

  With my own laughter finally subsiding, other obvious questions came to mind.

  “Why were ye looking for her, Alasdair? We’ve barely spoken of her since she left.”

  Alasdair’s face grew grim once more as he corrected me.

  “She dinna leave, Morna. I doona believe she ever would have left if Father hadn’t sent her away. I saw her face that day in the field. It broke something in her—not only her heart but nearly her soul—to leave us that day. Ye’ve need of her now. I thought it past time I saw her home.”