Page 6 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)
“ Y e canna mean that ye truly intend to make me tell him. ’Twould be improper, and Kip wouldna care for it. ’Twill only make him uncomfortable. Please Morna, I beg ye. I’ll do anything else.”
Still in shock over losing the wager, Mary continued to protest as we made our way back to the castle in the dark.
Upon arriving at Mae’s inn, I sent word back to the castle to inform my father that Mae needed help and I would be absent from dinner, freeing Mary and me to tend to the inn until every last traveler was fed and abed for the night.
While father wouldn’t approve of my helping in the inn any more than he did of my tending to Eoin, Mae’s father and my own were old friends. I knew he would make no issue of my desire to help them if it was only for one night.
Of course I wouldn’t force Mary to tell Kip of her feelings.
I cared for my friend too much to embarrass her—not that I intended to tell her that just yet.
Perhaps a few more minutes of dread would teach her to not doubt me so fiercely next time.
While I wouldn’t force Mary to say anything, I did intend to at least get Mary and Kip in the same room in the hopes that their feelings for one another might be strong enough to persuade one of them to take action.
“Aye, ye will tell him for I doona know if Kip will ever have the courage to do what he should without it. We will stop in at his cottage on the way to the castle.”
Shaking her head in the moonlight, Mary repeated her astonishment for the tenth time since leaving the inn.
“I canna believe how easily Mae admitted it. She’s never said a word about Hew before this night.”
“’Tis no surprise to me that Mae answered ye honestly. Have ye ever known the lass to speak an untruth? I doona believe she’s capable of it.”
“Aye, I suppose ’tis true. Mae speaks her own mind too plainly to lie. Though, I must ask ye, Morna, did ye spell Mae to say what ye wished?”
An involuntary snort escaped me as I turned and looked at my friend to gauge the sincerity of her question.
“Mary, yer eye is still bruised from my attempt to send a wooden spoon across the kitchen to ye. Do ye truly believe I’ve the power to spell anyone to do anything?”
Rather than floating easily over to Mary’s hand as intended, the spoon had flown across the kitchen with such speed that it smashed against her face and knocked her to the ground. She’d been angry with me for days.
Mary shrugged, keeping her voice low as she answered.
“I doona know what I believe about ye anymore. I still doona know how ye discerned my feelings for Kip. I’ve never even whispered them aloud to myself.”
“’Tis a gift, not a spell. O’course I dinna spell Mae to do anything.”
Kip’s cottage lay just to the east of the castle’s stables. His home was dark as we approached.
“Morna, he’s already sleeping. We canna wake him up. I refuse to do it.”
Pointing over to the stables, I grabbed her arm to prevent her from running off toward the castle.
“Look at the candlelight. He’s still tending to the horses. I know he willna mind us visiting him there.”
“Kip never works so late. If someone is within the stables, ’tis Rab, the newest stable hand.”
Worry rolled off Mary in waves and her arm tensed beneath my grip. It was time to end her pain.
“Doona worry, Mary. I only mean to facilitate a meeting between the two of ye. Ye needn’t say a thing that ye doona wish to as long as ye promise to not be so doubtful of me next time.”
I smiled in the darkness as Mary sighed in relief.
“I’ll never doubt ye again.”
Inside, we found Kip leaning against the widest stall at the stable’s far end staring intently at the mare inside. Hearing our approach, he turned to greet us. His smile was wide, and his eyes never left Mary. I wasn’t even sure he knew I was there until he spoke.
“Did the two of ye come to see the birth?”
“Birth?” Mary’s voice rose with excitement as she moved around me to look down into the stall.
I grinned inwardly as I slowly approached the two of them from behind. A birth would be the perfect excuse for Mary to linger. Perhaps she could offer him aid while I slipped away feigning exhaustion.
“Are ye alone, Kip? Shouldna Rab be here helping ye?”
Kip waved a dismissive hand and scooted near Mary so I could join them.
“Ach, the lad wouldna know what to do, and ’tis more trouble than ’tis worth to teach him. He said an errand—though he wouldna tell me what it was—needed his attention, and I saw no reason to keep him here.”
Determined not to let this opportunity pass, I leaned forward to look across Kip at Mary.
“Kip, I canna believe our good fortune. Why, Mary was telling me only this morning that she’d never seen a mare give birth.”
Eyes wide and disbelieving, Kip took over the conversation just as I’d hoped.
“No? Is this true, Mary? Surely, it canna be. Why, ye helped deliver Elspeth’s baby all on yer own.”
Blushing, Mary shot me a quick glance before answering him. I had no idea whether or not what I said was true, but I hoped she had enough sense to go along with it without question.
“Aye, ’tis true. Would ye mind if we stayed and watched? We’ll help if we need to.”
Yawning, I threw my arms above my head and stretched dramatically.
“Oh, Mary, I’m far too tired to stay, but I can see myself inside the castle if ye would like to wait for the birth.”
In a gesture that surprised and filled me with hope, Kip reached out to gently touch Mary’s arm as he spoke.
“Ye must stay. ’Tis a wondrous sight.”
Content that my matchmaking would carry on fine without me, I bid them farewell and made my way along the short path from the stables to the castle.
I loved the castle even more in the dead of night when none but me lay awake, and I was free to roam its halls undisturbed or watched.
The castle would never belong to me in the way it would someday belong to Alasdair, but in the moments when I moved through its corridors unaccompanied by watchful eyes, it felt like I was its mistress.
My affection for its stone walls and elegant beauty knew no bounds.
I approached the door to my bedchamber with growing weariness as I considered just how shameful it would be to crawl into bed without changing out of my dress. As long as I woke early, none would be the wiser. It sounded delightful.
Opening the door and slipping inside, I walked through the room’s darkness picturing my impending dreams as I crawled on top of my blankets still fully clothed.
A sudden rustling sound near the window caused my head to whip in its direction. The shadowy figure of a man stood not far from my bed.
With no hesitation, no worry over what practicing magic in front of another might do, I flicked my wrist and sent the candles scattered around my room blazing with light.
At once, the man was revealed.
“Rab?”
The young man glanced around the room with horror.
“’Tis true, then. Ye really are a witch.”
He held the small chest which contained the jewels I wore only on the most special of occasions in his hands.
“And ye are a thief. If ye mean to imply that my crime is worse than yer own, ye will surely find that my father would disagree. Unless ye wish me to call for him, ye will place my chest back where ye found it, and ye will sit on the ground at once.”
Every last detail slipped into place inside my mind as a plan took form.
He was quiet, brave, and foolish. If Rab could so easily sneak into my room without anyone else in the castle seeing him, then surely he could do the same in my father’s bedchamber.
He would either steal Grier’s books for me, or my father would learn of his crime.
The choice was his.