Page 32 of Love Beyond Time (Morna’s Legacy #1)

I was definitely about to get into trouble. For what, I had no idea. But from the look on Mary’s face I could tell she was not overjoyed to see us back at the castle.

She didn’t let go of my hand, nor did she stop moving until we reached Morna’s spell room deep below the castle. Once inside, she released my hand and pointed to the wooden stool in the corner.

“Sit.”

I finally understood how my kindergarteners felt when they had to sit out during recess. “Is everything alright, Mary?”

“Nay, lass. What exactly do ye think yer doing?”

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what she was talking about. “I don’t think I’m doing anything. What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me, lass? What’s the matter with ye? Ye and Eoin were up to no good while ye were away, and doona try to tell me that ye were no.”

I couldn’t repress a smile. “Define ‘no good.’”

“Ach! Why, ye have been tupping, and enjoying every bit of it, have ye no?”

There was no reason I should’ve felt guilty for my recent activities with my sort-of husband, but Mary was quickly succeeding in making me feel so. It instantly made me defensive. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Mary.”

“Oh, ye doona think that it is, do ye? Well, pardon me, but while ye’ve been away, the whole castle has been running ragged trying to find the ring for the spell so that ye can return home, and ye go off and act like ye no want to go.”

“I do want to go home,” I paused, unsure if I believed my own words. “I think.”

“Aye, there ye go, lass. That’s the first truth ye’ve spoken. Ye doona know if ye want to go home. And would ye like me to tell ye why that is, lass?”

“I feel quite sure you’re going to anyway.” I smiled, but she seemed unamused.

“Aye, that I will, lass. Ye doona know if ye want to go home because ye have let yerself fall in love with Eoin. How could ye be so foolish? Ye know that it canna be so.”

I stood, feeling angry and inexplicably on the verge of tears. “It’s not like I meant to fall in love with him, Mary. Have you seen him? I don’t think I had much say in the matter at all. And why can’t it be so? If I look just like Blaire, what’s the problem with me staying?”

“Ach, lass, I doona know the lass well, but I expect that Blaire is ready to return home. I’m sure she’s right scared out o’ her mind being trapped in yer strange time, where she’s most likely been forced to dress with cloth that rises up between her legs!

Not to mention that yer own mother is desperate to have ye back! ”

I was sure that my heart nearly stopped at the mention of my mother. “Wait! Why would you say that about my mother?”

Mary reached for the spell book, which still lay open on the table, and thrust it in my direction.

“She wrote to ye. Look around the edges of the spell. I noticed it when I was down here looking for the damned ring. A handwriting I dinna recognize caught my eye. I could no read it, o’ course, but I had Arran come and look, and he told me what she said.

She’s working on the spell too, Bri. And she needs the ring as well.

She’s worried sick that ye might not be safe. ”

I held it before me, reading my mother’s words over and over, a mixture of emotions flooding me.

I was thrilled to know that she was safe and that she’d figured out that the spell was the key to switching Blaire and me back.

I was also horrified to know how worried she must be for me, and I was certain she’d spent every waking second trying to get me back.

“How do you think she was able to do this, Mary?”

“I doona know, lass. Perhaps, the book’s magic allowed the writing to show through.”

“Do you think it would work both ways? I need to let her know that I’m safe and that I’m looking for the ring, as well.” I held the book tightly to my chest as if by cradling it I was holding on to a piece of my mother.

“I doona see why not. It willna hurt for ye to try. But do ye mean it, lass? Are ye truly looking for the ring?”

I understood her meaning well enough. She seemed to have a better understanding of my feelings than I did, and she knew that part of me didn’t want to return home.

“Yes, Mary. I am looking. I know that we have to find the ring. I can’t deny the feelings I have for Eoin, but I won’t share them with him.

It’s too selfish for me to stay here. My mom deserves to have me back.

Blaire deserves the chance to be able to return to her home.

And besides, I doubt Eoin feels the same way. ”

Mary reached forward and rubbed the side of her thumb down the side of my cheek in a motherly fashion. “Ach, lass. I believe he does care for ye as ye do him. That’s why it troubled me so to see ye walking toward the castle so happy with one another. I doona want this to hurt both of ye.”

“It’s too late for that, Mary. It hurts me now just to think of it.”

Mary smiled as she turned to leave me alone in the spell room. “I know it does, lass. It hurts me to think of ye leaving as well. I’ve come to love ye like I would a daughter. Write to yer mother. It will do her good to know that ye are safe.”

“I will. Thank you, Mary.”

Once she was gone and I could no longer hear her footsteps on the stairs leading out of the basement, I placed the spell book back on the desk and crawled on top of the stool, pulling my knees in toward me as I buried my head and cried.

I wasn’t accustomed to allowing my emotions to affect me so drastically.

Living alone for so long, I’d made it a habit of pushing away anyone who dared interrupt my set routines and the comfortable, albeit lonely, life I’d created for myself.

If I allowed myself to feel too much, I made myself vulnerable, and that was a feeling that my control-freak personality absolutely rebelled against. Hence why none of the countless men Mitsy had set me up with ever made it past date three.

So, how was it that Eoin had been able to slip inside the confines of my heart so easily?

I didn’t know, but I loved him. I knew it without question.

But I also knew that it didn’t matter. This decision affected the lives of too many others, and I couldn’t be so selfish as to only consider my own heart.

If no one else were involved—not my mother, not Blaire, not Arran and his love for Blaire—I would gladly cease searching for the ring and stay here forever. But that wasn’t the case, and no number of tears was going to change that.

Drying my eyes on the sleeve of my dress, I unfolded my legs and stood to go and look for a pen and inkwell with which to write a message back to my mother.

I found them quickly and, leaving as much room around the edges of the spell as I could so that we could communicate further if the message worked, I scribbled simply, “I’m safe, Mom.

We haven’t found the ring yet, but we are searching.

Take care of Blaire. I know she must be ready to return home.

I love you. Write back if you get this.”

Inhaling deeply to push back the remnants of unshed tears, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving the message for my mother to see.

It was time to find that freaking ring. Or, apparently, we would all die trying.