Page 32 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)

W e waited three days to bury Father. I spent most of that time alone, crying and working through feelings I didn’t know I had for him. By the time it came for everyone to gather, I no longer had tears to shed.

Henry checked on me every day, but the state of my grief made him so uncomfortable that it never took much for me to get him to leave.

Jerry kept his distance entirely, but I knew it wasn’t his choice to do so.

Alasdair had spoken to him and asked him to stay away until everything was settled with Henry.

When I saw him standing with Mary and Kip at Father’s burial site, he looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept in days. It was the first thing I said to him.

“Are ye ill, Jerry?”

He wanted to reach for me, and I wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms, but Henry stood only steps away.

Whether he was too tired or too emotional to censor his words, I didn’t know, but Mary and Kip’s presence did nothing to prevent him from answering honestly.

“I canna sleep knowing I’m not there to comfort ye. Ye shouldna be alone in yer grief. I want to help ye, to hold ye, to let ye know that yer pain willna always be so great.”

Mary’s mouth fell visibly open, and she leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“I doona care if Henry sees ye. If ye doona hug that lad right now, I’ll do it meself.”

A lasdair , Elspeth, and Eoin still hadn’t come down from the castle so I stood mingling with all the villagers, accepting their condolences and being smothered by hugs until Mary pulled me away from the crowd.

“Ye look as weary as I’ve ever seen ye. Doona exhaust yerself now. Things will only get harder as the day goes on. When ye see him, ye will likely be unable to hold back yer tears.”

I knew she was right. I’d yet to see Father’s body. While most had already visited him, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to go to him. I wasn’t sure I could bear seeing him so cold and lifeless.

“Speak to me of something else, Mary. I am weary of grief consuming my every thought.”

She smiled, laced her arms with mine, and led me to the back of Mae’s inn. It allowed us a view of the castle so we would know when Alasdair and Elspeth were coming. We could join the others then.

“I know precisely what I wish to speak to ye about. I can see by the way the two of ye looked at each other that ye’ve bedded him. Tell me everything.”

For the first time in days, I genuinely smiled.

“Ye have no shame, Mary. Ye do know ye are the only lass I’ve ever known to speak of such matters so plainly, aye?”

She laughed and nodded. “’Tis something I pride myself on. Now, doona be coy. Ye can say nothing that will shock me.”

There was far too much to tell, but there was one instance during my evening with Jerry that I’d been curious to speak to her about for days.

“I do have something I’d like to ask ye in regards…in regards to something he did to me.”

Mary’s face lit up with glee. “What did he do to ye? Did he tie yer hands to the bed? Did he nip yer arse?”

I doubled over in laughter, and for a fleeting moment, I was able to forget about Father’s death. Then as I remembered, guilt filled me. Mary could see it on my face and grabbed my shoulders.

“I know what grief does to ye, lass. The moment ye start to feel anything other than pain, ye worry that ’tis wrong for ye to do so.

Doona ever believe guilt when it tugs at ye.

Joy is always acceptable. Our misery does the dead no service.

They would prefer that we cling to happiness wherever we can find it.

Now…” She paused, stepped away, and smiled wide.

“I can see that he dinna bite ye, which ’tis a shame if ye ask me. What did he do then?”

“Is it usual for a man to use his tongue to...” I couldn’t bring myself to finish my question.

“To give ye pleasure, ye mean? I wouldna say ’tis usual, but it sure is lovely, aye? Count yerself blessed that ye have a man who cares so much about yer pleasure.”

I was lucky—in every way.

“Aye, I know I am. I dread what I must do to Henry. He doesna deserve it.”

Mary’s nose twisted in the same way Elspeth’s almost always did in Henry’s company.

“I doona know if I’d say that, lass. Ye seem to be of the belief that Henry treats everyone as he does ye. I can assure ye that ’tis not true.”

“Do ye think he’s as unkind as Father could be?”

It was so strange for me to hear such different stories of Henry. None of them aligned with the man I’d spent so much time with.

“’Tis true that yer father could be unkind, but there was only one version of him.

He would treat royalty no differently than he would treat a beggar.

Authenticity is important, lass. I doona trust those that put on airs for some and show their worst to others.

’Tis my experience that such people mean to hide something, and ’tis never something good. ”

Perhaps she was right about Henry—perhaps they all were. It hardly mattered now. By tomorrow he would be headed back to McCabe Castle, and I would never see him again.

The crowd of villagers began to stir. As I glanced up toward the castle, I could see Alasdair, Elspeth, and Eoin riding toward the village.

Mary reached out to squeeze my hand.

“’Tis time, lass. Let us bid him farewell.”

I t was a somber burial filled with tears.

It was easier than I expected to see Father’s body.

It looked so cold, so unlike him, that I was able to detach myself from all that was happening around me in a way I hadn’t expected.

It was so much like the first moments right after I learned of his death.

I knew I would quietly fall apart later.

It was only at the end of the service as they lowered Father into the ground that I noticed her.

Standing at the edge of the wood, cloak over her head, she remained far from the crowd.

With everyone else so caught up in what was happening in front of them, I knew I was the only one that had seen her.

Grier had returned.