Page 11 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)
“ N ow 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.