Page 5 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)

A n entire week passed . With each new day, I grew more frustrated at my various failed attempts to steal Grier’s books away from my father.

Each time I believed him far enough away from his bedchamber to risk entry, I would find him in some unexpected part of the castle.

It seemed that the more I wanted access to the books, the more difficult it became to evade my father’s watchful eyes.

With Alasdair still away on a secret errand for our father, I was forced to wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Patience came to me as naturally as obedience did—I was rubbish at both. Still, there was no one else I would put in such danger. So wait I did.

The worst Alasdair or I would receive for sneaking into Father’s bedchamber was a good tongue lashing. If a servant was caught rummaging through Father’s things, the most lenient punishment they would receive was banishment.

Frustrated from days of thinking up entirely useless ideas, I went in search of Mary.

Two years younger than me, she’d been with our family so long that at the age of only seventeen she ran our home with a level of authority surpassed only by my father.

She was my dearest friend and the only person, save Alasdair, that encouraged my magic.

I found Mary just as I expected to—in our cold and damp basement kitchen, covered in flour, ordering around half a dozen girls between the ages of twelve and fifteen with a tone that made me pity each and every one of them.

The moment she saw me standing in the doorway, she wiped her hands on the bottom of her dress and turned to address one of the youngest girls in Gaelic before joining me in the doorway.

“I doona know why I bother trying to teach them. ’Twould be less work if I sent them all away and did everything myself.”

As several of the young girls looked nervously in our direction, I pulled Mary away and lowered my voice as I answered her.

“Ye teach them for ye know their families need what little they earn here. Ye care more than ye like to show.”

Ignoring me, Mary quickened her steps and motioned for me to follow.

“Come with me to the village. I promised Mae I would tend the inn this evening so she may care for her father. Ye can help me. He is verra unwell. I doona believe he will live past the end of the year.”

“Ach, no.” It would break Mae’s heart to lose her father. She knew little of life outside caring for him. “Do ye truly think he willna recover this time?”

“Every breath is a struggle. I canna see how he could improve. Mae’s accepted whatever will come. The lass is stronger than I hope I ever have to be.”

“What will it take for yer brother to see that Mae is in love with him? She will need someone when her father passes, and they couldna be more perfectly suited.”

Turning with the speed of someone half her size, Mary spun to face me and burst out laughing. Between strangled breaths, she spoke.

“Mae…Mae doesna love Hew. What possibly led ye to believe that?”

I found the intensity of the attraction between the two of them so obvious, it was difficult for me to imagine how Mary couldn’t see it.

“’Tis clear to me every time I see the two of them together, and she is not the only one who carries such feelings. Hew cares for Mae so much he can scarcely keep from trembling in front of her.”

Mary laughed even more loudly as we continued the short walk to the village just beyond the castle grounds.

“’Tis true that Hew is shy, but he wouldna tremble in front of anyone, most especially Mae. Why, he’s known her his whole life. Mayhap, the unused magic within ye is poisoning yer mind. Ye’ve never been so wrong about anything in yer life.”

Unaffected by her doubt, I glanced over at the castle stables as we passed. An idea popped into my mind. If Mary had so little faith in my ability to see what was right in front of me, I would make her believe by revealing a truth about herself I knew she’d never told another before.

“Are ye so certain that I’m wrong that ye’d wager against it?”

Mary’s confidence often got her into trouble. I knew she wouldn’t say no.

“O’course, I am. What do ye have in mind?”

“We shall ask Mae if she cares for Hew as I believe she does when we arrive at her inn. If she either flushes blood red or says ‘aye,’ we will know that I am right. If I am right, which I am, ye must go and confess yer own feelings to the lad ye fancy most.”

Laughing again, Mary stopped walking and doubled over as she gripped her stomach.

“Morna, ye must cease this. I havena laughed so much in weeks. I shall ache all day from it. Aye, I shall take yer wager for I canna lose.”

Keeping my voice level, I smiled at Mary as she straightened.

“Lose ye will.”

She shook her head and placed both her hands on her hips in defiance.

“But I canna lose, for ye know as well as I do that Mae doesna love my brother. Even if she does, I doona fancy any man around here. Thank God for it, too, for ye know how unseemly ’twould be for a woman to confess her feelings to someone she is not betrothed to.”

Resuming her fast-paced trot toward the village, I ran to block her path.

“Mary, I know ye too well for ye to lie to me.”

“I never lie.”

“Aye, ye lie more than any good person ever should. Ye do care for a man here. Ye care for him verra much.”

The amusement in her face faded, and I could see that she wondered just how I could possibly know.

“Oh? And who might that be?”

“Our stable master—Kip.”

Even Mary’s skin, darkened from too much time outdoors, flushed red at the mention of Kip’s name. I beamed with triumph as I placed my hand on her shoulder.

“Did ye feel what yer face did? If Mae’s does the same, we will know I was right.”

Smiling, I turned and walked ahead of her.

My incessantly talkative friend fell silent.