Love Beyond Reach: Book 8 of Morna’s Legacy Series Page 6

  “Lad, ye doona owe us anything. I believe I can help ye gain access to the man ye seek. I know the laird’s son verra well. Ye said before that ye no longer offer yer services to the laird of the territory from which ye came. Are ye in need of work? Not debtors work, but work in which ye may earn yer keep to stay here?”

  Jerry nodded. “Aye. Any work ye can offer me, I will happily take.”

  Alasdair smiled, and I could sense what he meant to do. It would please him to trick the man.

  “I’ve no work for ye, but the castle’s stable is looking for a new hand. I’ve business I must attend to with the laird himself this evening. I shall present ye to him. If he thinks ye suitable, perhaps he will allow ye to stay on. If ye work at the castle, ye are bound to cross paths with the laird’s son. Ye can then reveal everything to him that ye doona wish to reveal to us.”

  Jerry smiled.

  “Thank ye. Yer understanding and kindness means much.”

  Satisfied with himself, Alasdair moved to the door.

  “Ye canna come to the castle looking like that, lad. Ye must see yerself cleaned and groomed if ye wish the laird to grant ye work.”

  With his left shoulder still bound to his chest and his right arm bruised, he would need help.

  “I doona think he can. Will it really matter?”

  With a horrified expression that I knew full well was pretend, Alasdair twisted in the doorway and looked back at me.

  “Aye, it matters. I willna bring any man before the laird and present him as my guest looking as he does now. What would the laird think of me?”

  Shaking my head to shame him, I neared my brother and whispered, “What do ye expect him to do?”

  Dismissively, Alasdair shrugged as we walked into the hallway.

  “Mae can help him.”

  Mae constantly had more to handle than any person should ever have to. I wouldn’t allow Alasdair to place one more burden on her shoulders.

  “No. Say nothing to Mae. I’ll see him shaved and readied for this charade of yers. Ye should be ashamed of yerself, Alasdair.”

  Alasdair laughed.

  “Ye can tell him if ye like. Doona take long with him. Father will wish to see ye when ye return to the castle. He believes that ye’ve been here helping Mae, and ye know he will tell ye that he doesna care for it.”

  I had no wish to spend more time with the man than necessary. I wanted to return to the castle so I could see the surprise Alasdair mentioned the day before.

  “Aye, I know. Go on. I’ll follow ye shortly.”

  A few moments later, I returned to Jerry’s room with a blade and bowl of water in hand. He eyed me skeptically.

  “I’ve no desire to rid myself of my facial hair.”

  “Are ye in need of work? If so, I doona believe ye have a choice.”

  Pointing to a wooden seat in the room’s corner, I waited for him to sit. He held out a hand to stop me as I approached.

  “Wait. If ye mean to put a blade to my throat, I must at least know yer name first.”

  Setting the water bowl down on the table next to him, I reached forward to comb through the hair with my fingers. It was wiry and filthy. I couldn’t wait to see what he looked like without it.

  “I canna believe it dinna occur to ye to ask our names before now. ’Tis yer own fault my brother has fooled ye so. My name is Morna Conall, and the man who just offered to present ye to the laird is my brother, Alasdair—the laird’s son.”

  Enjoying the look of embarrassed horror in his eyes, I set about my work.

  Chapter 9

  “Now that ye know who I am, ye might as well tell me the truth. The lass ye spoke of before…her name was Grier, aye?”

  For the first part of his grooming—while I messily sawed away at the length of hair extending from his face—Jerry said nothing to me. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to know everything. How did he know Grier, and why was he still under the impression that she was dead?

  Surprised, he glanced up at me, and I had to look away. The more I looked at his eyes, the more familiar they felt to me, and I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with him.

  “Did ye know her?”

  Tossing a length of hair onto the floor, I nodded. I knew I needed to be careful about what I revealed to him. While he gave the impression that he and Grier were quite close, I knew it wasn’t safe to assume that he knew about her magic.

  “Aye. She was one of my grandmother’s dearest friends. I spent much time with Grier when I was younger.”

  This seemed to surprise him, and I knew that I’d been wise to say nothing of her magic.

  “Friends with yer grandmother? She canna be that much older than ye are.”

  Twisting to clean the blade to ready it for application to his face, I smirked to myself. Grier never told men the truth about her age. If she did, she’d have a much harder time seeing them to her bed.

  A flash of this man entangled with Grier flew unbidden into my mind. While I had no reason to have any feelings about such an image, I found it immensely displeasing.

  Ignoring his statement about her age, I asked the same question I’d asked him earlier.

  “Were ye truly married to her?”

  Confirming my suspicions, he shook his head just one half motion to the right as I reached to steady his chin to clean away the first full strip of hair.

  “Why did ye tell us that ye were?”

  With one run of the blade completed, he seemed convinced that I didn’t intend to slit his throat. He visibly relaxed.

  “In truth, I canna believe yer brother left ye alone to tend to me. Had I known him to be so openminded, I might have told ye the truth. Grier and I were never married, though I lived with her for the past year.”

  Intrigued and far less offended than pretty much any other person in Scotland would be, I pressed further.

  “My father would never stand for it, but Alasdair allows me my freedom. He believes I have a mind of my own.”

  Jerry surprised me by letting out a soft sigh. Under his breath, he whispered, “Aye, I doona doubt it.”

  “Ye dinna marry Grier, but ye loved her, aye?”

  I would tell him that she lived soon enough. First, I wanted to hear his story to learn if there was a reason for Grier to purposefully make him believe she was dead.

  “As a sister, aye. Grier and I were not together. Before she died, she was helping me find my way home.”

  The man was full of contradictions. First Grier was his wife. Now, he cared for her as a sister. First he said he knew Scotland as if all its land belonged to him. Now he said that he needed help finding his way home.

  He was a mystery—one I was intent upon solving.

  Pulling my blade back across his cheek to rid it of stubble, I questioned him.

  “Yer way home? I thought ye knew Scotland’s lands well.”

  He sighed deeply and reached to grab my arm. Gently pulling it away from his face, he continued to direct the blade back to the table.

  “Wait a moment. I doona wish to tell ye while ye hold the blade. ’Tis probable ye will believe me mad, and I doona wish ye to open one of my veins in fear.”

  Unsettled by the touch of his hand, I pulled away and set the grooming instruments down. Moving to lean against the bed, I nodded in agreement and waited for him to begin. He looked ridiculous with the length of his beard jaggedly chopped and one clean strip of face showing across his right cheek. He didn’t seem to notice or care.

  “I risk much by telling ye, but I know that I must. If ye knew Grier, I have to hope that ye knew of her secret. If ye did, ye might know of a way to help me. Do ye know Grier’s secret?”

  So he did know of her magic, and he had need of it.

  “Do ye mean to ask me if I knew Grier was a witch? Aye.”

  Relief flooded Jerry’s face as a rush of anxiety-laced air left his lungs.

  “Ach, thank God for it. If yer family truly doesna share the same fear as so many in the
Highlands, perhaps yer father and brother can help me as I’ve hoped.”

  Nothing he could’ve said would have annoyed me more. Why did he assume that they would be the ones that could help him? Did he believe all I was capable of was shaving his mangy beard? Father would be enraged if he ever learned this man had even heard Grier’s name. While I knew Alasdair would be sympathetic, he would be useless. Jerry sat in the room with the only person who could possibly help him, and he dismissed me because of my age and gender.

  Perhaps, he’d been right to ask me to set the blade down.

  “Ye’d be wise to never mention a word of this to my father. He’s gone to great lengths to ensure that no memory of Grier remains in Conall territory. If ye show him that ye were acquainted with her, the kindest ye can hope for from him is banishment.”

  “But I thought ye said yer family knew she was a witch? Why would yer brother send for her if yer father disapproved of it?”

  “Just as I have a mind separate from that of the men in my life, so does Alasdair have a mind separate from our father’s. ’Twould be foolish of ye to believe that any of my father’s beliefs align with my own.”

  I paused, the words I so desperately wanted to say stopping at the edge of my tongue.

  I could almost hear Alasdair’s protective voice boom in the outer regions of my mind urging caution. There was no reason for me to trust him, no reason for me to reveal to him that I too, had magic, but as I looked across at him, no part of me worried that I would be putting myself at risk. I wanted to tell him if only to make him feel badly for dismissing my ability to help him.

  “Alasdair sent for Grier because he believed I needed her help. I’m a witch, too.”

  Jerry’s reaction was not what I expected.

  Smiling so that every one of his teeth showed, Jerry doubled over and laughed.

  Chapter 10

  Jerry

  * * *

  I laughed at the coincidence, not because I disbelieved her. After tumbling backwards through time and living with a witch for over a year, nothing should have surprised me.

  I realized too late that my reaction angered Morna. With one quick flick of her wrist, the bonny lass extinguished the candles around the room, though it did little to darken the space around us. The sun was now up and shining through the small window behind her.

  “Lass.” I stood and reached for her, grabbing both hands. I lowered my head so she would look into my eyes. “I believe ye. I dinna laugh because I thought ye were lying. I laughed because sometimes I canna believe the oddity of my life. Now, please, finish what ye started here on my face. I must look a frightful mess.”

  She watched me carefully and eventually pulled away to move to the washbowl and blade. I resumed my seated position and awaited her touch. Her hands were gentle across my skin, and it took everything in me not to tremble at the light touch of her fingers.

  “I canna see how ye thought it funny.”

  I waited until she finished one long stroke down my cheek, then spoke.

  “Aye, well, if ye’d lived the past year of my life, perhaps ye would see the humor in it—dark though it may be. Can ye do more with yer magic than extinguish fire? I’m in need of great help.”

  I meant the question as a joke. If Grier had mentored her, the lass surely had great power, but as I watched her teeth clench, I fell silent.

  “I…sometimes I can sense things that others cannot.”

  Astonishment in my voice, I twisted to look up at her as I spoke. “Is that all? Surely, it canna be.”

  Her next pull of the blade across my skin held more pressure than those before it. I could feel her anger in the way she held my chin.

  “Did ye not hear me tell ye that my father sent Grier away from here? He doesna approve of magic. I’ve had no training in the use of my powers since I was twelve.”

  Shaking my head as she cleaned the blade, I reached to feel the bare half of my face. I’d not shaved since before my tumble through time.

  “I doona think I care for yer father. He’s allowed ye to become entirely useless.”

  The blade dropped against the table with a loud clank before I realized the stupidity of my words. They were thoughtless and selfish and below me. No matter how desperate I was to return home, it was unforgivable for me to behave as if anyone owed me help.

  I turned toward Morna slowly, expecting to see tears fill her eyes, or at the very least for her to rear back in shock. Instead, I watched as a brief flicker of pain crossed over her eyes—pain she quickly masked with the expertise of someone well practiced at being on the receiving end of an insult. It made me dislike her father even more. My hateful words weren’t the first time this lass had been made to feel useless. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so despicable.

  Recovering quickly, she picked up the blade. While her voice was softer, she kept it steady.

  “Aye, I know. Turn yer chair around so I may reach the other side of yer face.”

  Unsure how to apologize without making matters worse, I silently stood and did as she asked. We remained silent for what seemed like ages as she worked on my face. Finally, as she pulled the blade across one last time, I spoke.

  “I doona think ye are useless, Morna. I’m just a frustrated fool who has been away from home for far too long. I verra much wish for us to be friends. Forgive me.”

  She stood behind me and said nothing as she reached around to brush the last bits of hair from my face.

  The smile back in her voice, she patted my shoulders as she urged me to stand.

  “There is nothing to forgive. Every word ye said was true. Now stand and introduce yerself to me. Ye no longer resemble the man I met yesterday.”

  Brushing hair from my kilt, I stood and faced her. Her mouth fell open, and she paled.

  “Do I look that bad, lass?”

  While I knew I must look different, her response seemed strange. More than shock appeared in her expression. She looked deeply shaken.

  Afraid she might fall, I reached forward and grabbed her hands to steady her. She pulled away immediately and backed to the other side of the room.

  “Why is it that ye are always reaching for my hands? Ye are more familiar with yer touch than ye have a right to be.”

  Smiling inwardly at her blush, my pulse quickened. She didn’t mind my touch, and the realization bothered her. While the lass was still very much a stranger, the complexity of her character intrigued me.

  She carried herself with the maturity of women twice her age, yet sometimes she would do or say something that revealed how young she truly was.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended ye, lass. ’Tis only that ye look quite troubled.”

  She pointed to the seat behind me. Understanding her silent command, I turned the chair around once again and sat. The moment I was seated, she spoke.

  “I need ye to tell me everything about yer relationship with Grier. Why was she helping ye? How did ye meet her? Alasdair canna help ye with this. Useless as I am, I am yer only hope.”

  Her reminder of my thoughtlessness pained me, but I knew it best to say nothing else of it and answer the questions she’d asked of me. While the possibility of her being able to see me home seemed small, I knew it was the only option I now had.

  “Ye may verra well not believe my story, but I beg ye to listen silently until the end.”

  Agreeing with one small nod of her head, I continued.

  “Lass, I canna explain what happened to me. I’ve yet to find anyone that can, but there is truth in every word I’m about to tell ye. I was not born in this century, not even in the next. My life, my friends, my family—they all lay in the twentieth century, some three hundred years in the future.”

  Pausing, I searched Morna’s eyes but found her gaze unreadable. I continued.

  “On the eve of my twenty-eighth birthday, I went to sleep inside my old farm house, content in knowing that come morning, I would have another long day of work ahead of me. I woke in the middle of t
he woods, far from my home, and entirely out of my time.

  “I wandered for days until I reached a village outside of Creedrich Castle. It was only then that I truly began to realize the oddity of my circumstance. I believed I’d gone mad. No modern means of transportation lined the streets. No buildings resembled the town I knew from back home. I hid silently amongst the people for the better part of a week, eating scraps where I could find them, listening in on every conversation I could. Eventually, when I came to terms with the only reality I could imagine, I made a plan to ensure my survival.

  “Even out of my own time, I knew that I could navigate Scotland. So I went to the laird to offer my services as a messenger. I hoped that by traveling I could find someone who could help me home. I dinna have to look far. ’Twas at the castle, I met Grier.”

  For the first time since beginning my long tale, Morna spoke. “Did Grier work for the laird?”

  I shook my head.

  “No. The laird of Creedrich Castle, like yer father, fears magic. His wife doesna share his fear. Grier would often provide healing remedies to the lady of the castle in secret. The night I went to offer my services to the laird, Grier was sneaking away from the lady’s bedchamber.

  “I said nothing to her that night and was hired on as a messenger like I hoped. ’Twas only after working at the castle for some weeks that I began to hear rumors of Grier’s work within the castle. Eventually, I thought it worth the risk to seek her out and tell her my story. She believed me immediately and offered to help me return home.

  “In short time, Grier and I secretly moved in together as ’twas easier for us to work on possible spells and read through old spell books together. Grier worked night and day trying to find a way to send me home, but in the year I was with her, we found nothing.”

  “Where were ye when Grier died?”

  Memory of that terrible night still caused the breath to tighten in my chest. I couldn’t bear to think of my friend dying in such a horrible way, and the guilt I felt for not being there weighed on me every single day.