Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy Series) (12 page)

“He said that his sister—she was a witch, ye see—placed a spell and someday soon a young lass in the likeness of Blaire would be brought into our lives. He begged me to watch over ye and to help ye in any way that I could. He said that ye would save us all from something horrible. What he meant by that, I’ll never know. I expect more answers could be found in Morna’s basement, but I canna read myself and never thought to look.”

“Morna’s basement? Where is that, Mary? I need to go and look immediately. I have to find a way home.”

“Ach, dearie. I doona expect ye’d find anything to help ye do that. There was a reason Morna wanted ye here. I doubt she would make it easy for ye to leave. If ye want to look, I’ll help ye anyway I can. But no tonight, lass. Right now, ye are to get yerself into that tub immediately and relax until Old Mary brings ye something to eat, do ye understand? Come morning, I’ll show ye to Morna’s room.”

She gave me no opportunity to argue, and as I watched the steam rise from the tub I found myself less anxious to explore Morna’s spell room. I could smell myself, even standing still, and knew I was in desperate need of a bath.

Once stripped, I sunk graciously into the tub, bending my knees so that the water came up to my chin and only my head and kneecaps breached the surface of the water. The water had clearly just been taken off the fire. It was almost too hot, but I was too tired and dirty to care.

It seemed odd to go from watched prisoner to complete solitude so quickly. It occurred to me briefly that I should jump out of the tub and flee the castle immediately, but I knew there was nowhere better for me to go. I wasn’t likely to find any answers outside of these walls, and at least Mary seemed to know where I might find them, even if she did a lousy job of explaining it.

I hadn’t realized how tense I was until the heat from the water slowly worked its way over my body, forcing my muscles to relinquish their tight grip. I breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of my nails against my skin as I scrubbed away the dirt on my ankles and arms.

With the tips of my fingers and toes wrinkled to prunes and my skin red from both the heat of the water and the thorough scrub-down I’d just given myself, I lay my head against the back of the tub and threw my hair over the side, allowing it to dry.

The steam from the water quickly receded, and as my skin tightened in response to the cooling water I turned my head toward the fireplace and stared into the flames. The brilliant amber beams danced over the wood, and as I followed their movement the cooling water seemed warm once more.

The tub was close enough to the fireplace that some of the heat from the flames warmed my left arm, which hung over the side of the tub. The light emitting from the fireplace mixed with the darkness, which had slowly flooded the room as the sun dropped lower into the horizon. The combination of light and dark was soothing, and my mind drifted closer to sleep with each flicker of the flames.

Just as I was at the edge of slumber the bedroom door opened and closed, causing me to nearly jump out of the water. Suddenly being jarred from my daze made me realize how cold I had actually become. My entire body was wrinkled from being in the water too long, and my nipples were pointed into hard beads. I assumed it was Mary with some food, but then I heard the deep voice. I moved quickly to cross my legs and cover my chest with my arms as I heard Eoin’s footsteps behind me.

“I’m no sure what to say to ye, lass. I behaved badly by locking ye away, but I was so angry it was all that came to mind.”

He stopped right next to the tub, but his head and eyes were turned away from my body as he bent and touched the surface of the water with his fingertips, quickly jerking them away.

“Ach, lass! Ye’ll get yerself sick sitting in water that cold. How long have ye been in there?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Since Mary brought me up here. I might have fallen asleep.” I pulled my knees up toward my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. It was warmer, and it seemed to cover a little more of my intimate parts.

I watched as Eoin reached toward the bed to grab a blanket off the top. He stretched it out and held it open for me, still looking away. “Here, lass, stand up and go sit by the fire.”

He could sense my hesitation, and I could see the corner of his left brow crease in frustration. “I’m no looking at ye, lass. I just want to talk to ye, but if ye doona get yerself out of that tub I’ll lift ye out of it meself.”

Even through the little time I’d spent with him, I knew he wouldn’t make an idle threat. I reached out and snatched the blanket, wrapping it around myself as I stepped out of the large basin.

Silently I walked closer to the fire, sitting as close to the flames as I could on the stone floor. Keeping my hands, arms, and legs inside the blanket, I hugged myself, enjoying the feeling of hiding every part except my head underneath the blanket. It helped conceal the fact that my legs were shaking. I was so nervous for whatever he was going to say, I felt like I could vomit. Thankfully, he didn’t force me to wait too long before he spoke.

“Blaire. I canna pretend that I’m no any less angry at ye than I was before. I know that Arran puts the blame on himself, but from what I saw, ye are guilty as well. I know I must allow ye to live in the castle and act as me wife on certain occasions, but as far as I’m concerned, our marriage is invalid. I’ll no be unkind to ye, but I’ll no treat ye as I would a loving companion either.”

He paused, obviously waiting for a response, which I didn’t have. After waiting a few moments, he gave up and continued.

“No one outside of the castle will know the truth about our marriage, but we will live for the most part separately, only joining when it is time to produce an heir. Regardless, ye are never to be alone with Arran again. And we will be spending quite a lot of time together for the sake of appearances, aye? It is my hope that we can both learn to live in peace with one another.”

He stared intently, his dark eyes blacker than usual, as he awaited my response. I was so filled with relief at learning that I would be staying in a separate room and living separately that I was unsure of what to say. As far as producing an heir, I had no intention of hanging around long enough for that to be an issue.

I could tell he was still furious and it was all he could do to speak to me politely. If I showed him just how glad I was to hear every word he’d just said, I knew it might crack his calm façade. Remorse was the best way to soothe a man’s wounded ego.

“I am sorry for what happened, Eoin. I have no good explanation. I understand the reasons for yer requests and, aye, I accept them. Ye have my word that I will no make the same mistake again. Thank ye for not leaving me in that prison.” I tried to look as apologetic as I could. I truly was sorry for upsetting him, but I knew the situation was really caused by someone other than myself.

Eoin’s eyes softened at my words and he walked toward me, gently placing a hand on the top of my head. “Aye. I know ye are, lass. I’m sorry that it must be this way, too. I’ll leave ye to rest now. We all gather for breakfast in the grand dining hall every morning. Ye will be expected at my side.”

I glanced up at him, and he jerked his hand away, his eyes hardening as he turned and left, leaving me alone in the room once more.

Chapter 15

“Doona worry so much, dearie. Ye’ve done fine so far, and it’s unlikely that Eoin would press ye with such a question, but it’s important that ye know it if ye are here long enough to have to meet Blaire’s father. Now, which ear is it that he canna hear from?”

“It’s his left ear. He was born that way and can’t hear anything unless you speak loudly or into his right ear.”

“Yes, dear. So doona be alarmed if he screams at ye. It’s only that he canna know how loud he can sometimes be.”

I watched as Mary laughed, her entire belly moving with each chuckle, causing me to smile in return.

It had been two weeks since I’d been released from the dungeon and, while the first few days after my imprisonment found me under Eoin’s constant watch, Mary quickly picked up on the problem and suggested that I ask Eoin if I could spend my afternoons with her so that she could teach me how to cook. While it was highly unusual for the laird’s wife to spend her time in the kitchen, I knew he was tired of babysitting me, and he consented easily. Since then, I’d spent a large portion of every day either training with Mary so that I could learn family history and cultural customs, or digging through the mountains of books in Morna’s spell room.

While I was enjoying my lessons with Mary immensely, the search to find a spell that would get me home was an entirely different story. The small room was crowded with books, journals, records, most of which had absolutely nothing to do with spells. Morna’s records and diaries I could read, but the majority of her spell books were in Gaelic, which I did not know. I was slowly having to search through everything written in English first, all while sorting through the things in Gaelic that looked relevant and setting them aside to deal with later.

I was busy thinking of my game plan for the next few hours, which I would spend sifting through the rooms’ contents, when Mary stopped chuckling and spoke once more.

“Ye have noticed that he doesna seem as angry anymore, haven’t ye? He’s slowly warming to ye, a little more each day.”

Her words surprised me. Sure, Eoin no longer seemed angry in the way in which he carried himself when he was around me, and his eyes didn’t look as dark, but ‘warming’? I hadn’t seen anything to make me think that. “What do you mean, ‘warming’? I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“Oh, that’s because ye doona know him the way I do, dearie. He doesna warm to people as easily as his brother does. He guards himself closely, he knows that ye have the power to break his heart. But, Old Mary’s known him his entire life, and I see the way he looks at ye. He cares for ye, even if he willna let himself know it.”

“I think you’re wrong, Mary. He’s never done a thing to make me think he’s anything but repulsed by me. But even if you’re right, it’s best that he doesn’t let himself start to care. I’ll be gone from here before too long.”

Knowing that today’s family history lesson was at an end, I stepped inside the doorway and made my way over to the pile of my modern clothes, which I’d hidden away to put on only while I worked in the spell room. I looked forward to those hours every day, so that I could put on a bra to strap the girls in place and put on my favorite pair of jeans. It was heaven; or as close as I was going to get to it here.

Seeing that I was preparing to work on the books, Mary stood to leave. “Well, dearie, I see that ye are about to slip on those awful shreds of cloth ye seem to care so much about, so I’ll leave ye to yer work and come back to get ye before the evening meal. But, I’ll no lie to ye, Eoin’s already allowed himself to care. If ye open yer eyes up, ye will be able to see it as well.”

With that she turned and left the basement, and I sat down to get to work.

* * *

Eoin made his way down to the dining hall for the evening meal and stopped abruptly when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a piece of armory which hung on the wall. He was surprised to see that the corners of his mouth were pulled up, so that they resembled something of a smile. He tried to relax his face, so that that his mouth fell back into where it usually stayed, but he found that his lips didn’t want to stay put.

Confused, he turned away from the reflection and continued to make his way down the hall, all the while wondering why he was so pleased and excited at the idea of eating. It hit him when he walked into the dining hall to see Blaire seated in her usual place.

It wasn’t the prospect of food that excited him. After spending the entire afternoon alone, he was going to get to see Blaire.

He’d done his best to stay angry at her and resolve himself to the fact that their marriage was always going to be one of convenience, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay angry at her forever. It was getting harder each day for him to ignore his feelings.

When he’d walked in on Arran kissing her in the hallway, he thought he’d seen two lovers stealing a precious moment alone when he wasn’t around. But after spending a fortnight watching the two of them around each other, he thought that perhaps Arran had been telling him the truth. Every meal, he watched as the two of them sat across from each other, but there were no knowing glances, no palpable tension that he could pick up on. In fact, they never spoke to each other. All conversations took place entirely between Blaire and himself.

And what great conversations they were! He’d never been around a lass that seemed so interested in his stories. She asked questions and listened eagerly, as if savoring everything new she learned about him. Oftentimes he would say something and a look of pure surprise or slight confusion would cross her face, and he immediately saw a glimpse of the ornery child he’d known growing up.

But, she was no longer that child. She was a woman, no denying that, and looked to him more beautiful each time he saw her.

He loved the odd way in which she spoke. Sometimes she said strange words, and her accent often slipped into an odd mixture of Scottish and something he’d never heard. He wondered if she’d spent a lot of time around a foreign nurse growing up, whose influence had shaped the way she said her words. He loved the disjointed sound of it and found himself wanting to listen to it all day.

As he sat down diagonally from her at the large table and looked up at her bright, dimpled smile, he decided it was pointless to remain angry for the sake of his wounded pride. Tonight, he would take the lass somewhere special. Mayhap they both could take a step toward shaping their marriage into what a marriage should be.

Chapter 16

Maybe Mary was right. The thought crossed my mind several times throughout the evening meal. Halfway through whatever strange meat sat before me—I’d stopped asking after about three days—I’d glanced up to see him staring at me in a way that sent an unfamiliar shiver down the back of my neck. At one point, he’d even reached over and squeezed my hand in the middle of one of his stories. The touch was so unexpected, I nearly spit up my food.