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

by Bethany Claire

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible for his already shockingly pale face to lose any more color, but it did. He stepped back as if I’d slapped him.

  “I’ll give ye the day to change yer mind. Only a fool would refuse me.”

  He was so much like my father. It was so impossible for him to see or relate to how anyone else might feel.

  “I doona need another day, Seumas. I’m a fool.”

  I left him balking as I went in search of the man I really wanted to marry.

  * * *

  I found Jerry in the stables, stroking Father’s horse, with Kip nowhere to be found.

  He looked different than he had the night before. The warm glow inside me dulled as I neared him. He grew rigid as I walked the length of the stables, and he didn’t smile as he looked at me.

  Jerry smiled at everyone.

  “Titus is a good horse. He deserves a better rider than Father.”

  Huffing, Jerry turned away and continued to run his hands down Titus’ neck.

  “I canna disagree with ye, though I believe the horse to be rather fond of him. Animals are devoted creatures. Their hearts are so much more pure.”

  I didn’t know what I’d intended by coming to the stables. I just wanted to see him, to feel his lips against my own once again.

  “Do ye enjoy the stable work? Ye wouldna have to do it, ye know? ’Tis not what Father requires of ye.”

  He moved to the other side of the horse. I couldn’t reconcile the feeling of intimacy between us the night before with how the distance between us felt now. It was as if Jerry had built a wall of stone up between us.

  “I prefer it. ’Tis possible ye could find the spell I need while I’m away for yer father, and I doona wish for that to happen. As soon as ye find the spell, I must leave here.”

  I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me—why his kiss had so completely obliterated all thought of Jerry leaving from my mind—but it had.

  “Ye…ye still wish to leave then?”

  He glanced up, locked eyes with me, and laughed.

  “Aye, o’course. Ye dinna think…ye dinna think that last night changed anything, did ye, lass?”

  He paused, and a bone-chilling pain swept through my body. I watched in horror as he continued, shattering something deep inside me with every new word.

  “Doona feel badly if ye did, lass. ’Tis my own fault. ’Tis easy to forget when looking at ye just how young and ignorant ye are.”

  Despite the sudden deep ache in my chest, my pride wouldn’t allow me to fall apart in front of him. If he meant to make me feel foolish, I wouldn’t allow it. Inexperienced as I was, I knew he cared for me.

  Opening the door to Titus’ stall, I moved to corner Jerry. Smiling, I leaned in close to him. He didn’t move away, and I didn’t miss how his breath caught as I reached out to touch his chest.

  “Do ye think ye are the only one with the ability to tell when someone is lying, Jerry? While ye may verra well return home when I find what we need to get ye there, there is no sense in pretending things are no different between us now. Aye, I am young, which is no fault of my own, but I am not ignorant. Doona be an arse, or I’ll never let ye kiss these lips again. Do ye understand me?”

  I didn’t back away as I watched him. Slowly, as his breathing quickened, the iciness in his gaze fell way to one of hunger. I readied myself for his touch only to feel a sudden breeze as he stepped away at the sound of footsteps. From the other end of the stables, my brother’s voice called to us.

  “Jerry, Morna, are ye in here? I looked in the spell room and even asked Mary where ye might be. I need to speak with ye.”

  I remained in the stall with Titus as Jerry went out to meet my brother, and I hurriedly tried to calm my own breathing. Alasdair permitted Jerry and I to be alone together only because it had never crossed his mind that there was anything other than friendship between us. He could suspect nothing if either of us wanted to be allowed to continue our afternoons in my spell room.

  “Aye, Morna is in with Titus. What is it?”

  Leaning around Titus’ large back end, I smiled and raised a hand in greeting to my brother as he called to me.

  “Come here, lass. Anything that has to do with magic we must discuss where none can hear.”

  Once I made my way out into the center of the stables to stand with them, my brother excitedly gave us his news.

  “I’ve heard news of a clan—they lay so far north that I could find none that have ever actually met them—but stories of their druid have traveled throughout Scotland for decades. I’ve learned that this man is known to train those with magic. I believe we should go in search of him. Surely, if he was to see what natural power ye possess, he would help ye.”

  I would gladly take any teaching I could get, but there was no way Father would allow me to leave here, and Alasdair would never leave Elspeth and Eoin for such a long journey. Only one of us could go—Jerry.

  Without hesitation, Jerry began to ready a horse, questioning my brother as he did so.

  “Aye, o’course we should find him. Do ye know precisely where they lay? I’ve traveled most of Scotland and have never heard of such a clan.”

  Pulling a piece of weathered parchment from the waist of his kilt, Alasdair extended it toward Jerry. I watched as he stared at it intensely for a long moment.

  “’Twill take me months to travel there and back. We best all hope that such a long journey is successful.”

  Alasdair nodded, and panic rose inside me. Everything was happening too fast. Jerry couldn’t leave. Not now. Not for two months or more.

  “Is there such urgency that ye must leave now? Should we not discuss it further?”

  “Discuss what, lass? Ye know as well as I, ye’ve only a few of Grier’s journals left. If ye canna find the spell on yer own, we must get help.”

  Alasdair interrupted, and I struggled to hold back tears.

  “Doona worry about Father, Jerry. I’ll make an excuse for ye that he willna question. Be careful and return to us as quickly as ye can.”

  Desperate to have him stay, I ran to the horse as he mounted, grabbing onto his leg.

  “What will ye do for food? Ye should at least wait to have Mary prepare provisions for ye.”

  He smiled and leaned down to rest his hand on my shoulder.

  “I survived for months without Mary’s meals. I shall be fine.”

  Bending so that Alasdair couldn’t hear him, he whispered, “Lass, if ye care at all for Seumas, marry him, for I canna promise ye that I will return. Should this druid have the means to send me home, I shall beg him to do it, and then I will send him to ye to train ye. If more than two months pass without my return, doona expect to see me again.”

  I thought I saw tears fill his eyes, but he tore quickly away from me, nudging his horse as he called a farewell to Alasdair.

  The moment both Jerry and Alasdair were gone from the stables, I dropped to the floor and wept.

  Chapter 19

  Father found me crying in Elspeth’s garden after returning from his daily ride. I didn’t visit my spell room after Jerry left, and I spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, content to wallow in my own self-pity.

  How could he leave so easily? And his words made it plain enough that he had no intention of returning here. The sudden nature of his departure reminded me so much of Grier’s banishment that old feelings of loss and abandonment dredged their way up, leaving me totally miserable.

  Father joined me on the ground next to the roses without a word. Unable to acknowledge his own emotions about anything, he hadn’t any idea how to deal with emotions that didn’t belong to him.

  Uncomfortable with the silence, I brushed a tear from my eye and looked up at him.

  “Do ye need something, Father? I’ll not be good company for ye tonight.”

  In a show of affection so strange I had to resist the urge to pull away from him, Father took my hand and gathered it between his palms.

 
“I sent Seumas away, lass. He told me what he said to ye. Any man that doesna want ye is a fool.”

  The notion that Father believed my tears had anything to do with Seumas was more proof of how little he knew me.

  “Doesna want me? What did he tell ye he said to me?”

  Stroking my hand as if it were a kitten, Father looked down at it as he spoke.

  “Ye needn’t be embarrassed, Morna. Seumas’ displeasure with ye has nothing to do with ye.”

  Pulling my hand away, I raised my voice in confusion. “Displeasure? What are ye talking about, Father?”

  “Seumas came to me and said how he told ye this morning that he doesna wish to marry ye after meeting ye.”

  There was nothing I could say in my shock. Every new thing I learned about Seumas made him seem more like my father. His ego was so grand that rather than have anyone know he’d been rejected, he’d rushed to make others believe the choice had been his.

  “Doona worry though, lass. I swore to him that I would never provide protection to his clan again. ’Tis his mistake, and he shall pay for it if ever he needs aid from a Conall.”

  I could tell no one of the real reason for my tears. So, as Father leaned awkwardly over to hug me, I allowed him to believe it had everything to do with Seumas.

  “Alasdair has already sent word to Henry MacNeal. Do ye remember him? He and yer brother have always been good friends. ’Twas Alasdair who suggested the match. I never would have thought of it myself, but I believe ye may find him verra pleasing. He’ll be here within a fortnight.”

  * * *

  Two Weeks Later

  * * *

  My sadness remained as the weeks passed, and my attitude toward everyone in my life—the only exception being wee Eoin—turned to one of aggravation and hostility. As I stood at the castle’s main entrance waiting to be introduced to yet another suitor, I was vibrating with irritation.

  As Father left the rest of us standing inside, every bit of frustration I’d harbored toward my brother over the last two weeks exploded.

  “I canna believe ye’ve joined him in this. Ye told me ye dinna see a need for it. Ye said I dinna need a husband until I wanted one. Now ye’ve gone and invited yer own choice here. It makes ye no better than him.”

  Looking to make certain Henry MacNeal and Father were still at the stables, Alasdair walked away, waving for me to follow. Once he entered the sitting room closest to us, he bent down to look at me at eye level.

  “Is that what has been bothering ye all these days, Morna? Ye thought I’d betrayed my word to ye?”

  Seeing the acknowledgement in my eyes, he stood and paced in front of me.

  “Ye should have said something to me about this days ago, lass. I’d have happily explained everything to ye. I canna believe ye really thought I’d do such a thing.”

  “But ye did do such a thing.” I couldn’t withhold the venom in my voice.

  “No, lass, I dinna. Do ye know who Father intended to invite here next?”

  I shook my head and waited.

  “Ludo Buchanan. Not only is the old fool thirty years older than ye, his temper is far worse than even Father’s. I begged Father to allow me to pick the next suitor so ye wouldna be forced to be around him for a moment. I doona care if ye marry or not. If ye dislike Henry, ye can send him away just as ye’ve done the others, but at least I know he is a good man with no temper.”

  I allowed my brother’s words to sink in as the anger inside me dissipated for the first time in days.

  Apologizing for my behavior, I moved to wrap my arms around him.

  “I should’ve known. There is a good reason for everything ye do. Thank ye.”

  Squeezing me tight, Alasdair slowly pulled away and began to lead me back to where Elspeth and Eoin stood waiting.

  “I love ye, Morna. I’ll always protect ye. Now, doona greet Henry with the same callousness ye’ve shown all of us lately. At least give the lad a chance. Ye’ll like him.”

  I turned and stilled.

  The second my eyes locked with Henry’s, I knew Alasdair was right.

  I would like him very much.

  Chapter 20

  Note from M.C.

  Perhaps there were signs I should’ve seen, but I’ve long since forgiven myself for not. I was too young, too sheltered, too desperate to find my way to have made any better decisions than I did. If there is one amongst us that isn’t at some point fooled by the charms of another, I’ve yet to meet them.

  None of what happened in the months following Henry’s arrival was Alasdair’s fault. He couldn’t possibly have known. Regardless, I know my brother carried undue guilt for years.

  His pain is the only thing in my past I would change—my brother deserved more happiness than anyone I’ve ever known. Yet his life saw him bear so much sorrow.

  And so much of it was entirely my fault.

  * * *

  One Month Later

  * * *

  I watched Elspeth carefully as we readied for the most exciting event to happen in Conall territory since Elspeth and Alasdair’s wedding years earlier—the impending marriage of Kip and Mary.

  Elspeth’s skin was glowing, but the vibrancy of her skin didn’t match her behavior at all. She was so exhausted she could barely summon the strength to dress.

  I’d only seen her behave in such a way once before.

  “Have ye told Alasdair, yet?”

  Flippantly, she glanced over her shoulder at me.

  “Told him what?”

  Smiling, I walked over and placed my hands on her shoulders.

  “That ye are with child again. Ye are, aye?”

  Spinning to face me, she grabbed my hands in a plea and stood.

  “Oh, ye canna tell him, Morna, not yet. I’ve lost babes before, and I doona wish to put Alasdair through it again. I will say nothing to him until I can no longer hide it.”

  “O’course.” I understood Elspeth’s concern. While every miscarriage broke her heart, Alasdair took it even harder. It wasn’t only his own grief that he felt—he felt Elspeth’s pain just as acutely. He was always trying to carry everyone else’s heartache.

  I watched as she allowed herself to smile, and I leaned forward to hug her.

  “Ye feel different about this one though, aye? I can see in yer eyes that ye are not as worried.”

  Her chin rested against my shoulder as she spoke.

  “Aye, I doona know why, but I feel stronger than in the past.”

  She paused as she broke away from me and looked out the window. Motioning with her head, she urged me to look.

  “Does he look angry to ye, as well?”

  Down below, Henry stood with one of his men, his expression different from any I’d ever seen on him before. His face was red. While we could hear nothing, he was most certainly screaming at the poor man standing across from him.

  “Aye, verra angry. What do ye suppose the lad did to deserve it?”

  Elspeth reached to grab my hand in the motherly way that came so naturally to her.

  “The fact that ye believe any one that serves ye deserves to be yelled at rather than spoken to says much about the man who raised ye. Ye know as well as I do, Alasdair would never speak to anyone in such a way. My own father never raised his voice in all his life.”

  Elspeth’s sudden passion on the subject surprised me. She’d read much more into the scene than I had.

  “I think ye are assuming much from what we just saw, Elspeth. I’ve often been known to yell at people. So have ye from time to time.”

  “’Tis different when we yell at those we love. ’Tis love that incites our passion towards anger or disagreement. When a man yells at those who serve him—when they are not a friend or loved one—there is no passion in that, only cowardice.”

  Too curious to let her words lay, I pressed further as I reached the doorway.

  “Are ye trying to tell me something, Elspeth?”

  “Only that ye should pay close attention to
everything Henry does. Take note of his habits, his words, his glances. Ye need to know someone well before ye agree to spend yer life with them.”

  I enjoyed Henry’s company immensely. His friendship and the distraction his company provided were all that kept me from wallowing in my anger at Jerry every waking moment.

  “I doona plan to marry him. I consider him a friend. I must ready myself. I’ll see ye downstairs shortly.”

  As I stepped into the hallway, I thought I heard Elspeth say, “Ye are not his friend, ye are his target,” but I couldn’t be sure.

  * * *

  Mary and Kip’s wedding was beautiful. Kip cried—something I would’ve never imagined possible—and Mary looked radiant and happy standing next to her new husband.

  It was a perfect day, but I couldn’t see Mary and Kip together without thinking of Jerry and his part in their love story. Six weeks had passed since his departure, and only a fortnight remained until I would have to resign myself to the truth that I would never see him again.

  “Where are ye, lass? For ’tis not here amongst the celebration.”

  There was no sign of the angry man I’d seen from Elspeth’s window as I stirred in my seat and looked up into Henry’s deep green eyes. His dimples showed as he smiled at me, and I happily took his arm as I stood.

  “’Tis nothing. Did ye enjoy dancing with Mae? ’Twas kind of ye to indulge her cause.”

  With each passing day, Mae grew more determined in her quest to make Hew her husband. I expected that before long she would simply lose her patience and come right out and demand it of him. While Hew had of course been at the wedding to see his sister married, he’d done a splendid job of avoiding glancing in Mae’s direction. Once the celebrations had begun, Mae made certain Hew was watching and then asked Henry to dance with her. And dance he had—with an abandon that managed to make even me jealous. I was certain their time together made Hew feel the same.