Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy Series) (4 page)

“I know perfectly well what Alasdair’s intentions were when he made the arrangement, you damn fool!” He threw the metal goblet into the flames, sloshing the contents of his cup, forcing the flames to heighten and roar at the alcohol’s touch.

“I . . . my apologies, sir.” The man backed up a few steps, fearing that the laird’s temper was about to grow completely out of control. Far too many servants had disappeared simply because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the laird flew into one of his violent rages.

“This will not stand, I can promise ye that. This marriage will provide no protection for the MacChristy clan, for I will wipe out all of the Conalls. Afterward, it will only be a matter of time before the MacChristys wither and die of their own accord. Once his precious Blaire is murdered before she is comfortably settled in her new home, the old laird will be so heartbroken, he will care for his territory even less than he does now.” Storming from the room, Ramsay paused briefly, grabbing his messenger by the throat. “If ye so much as breathe a word of my intentions to anyone, I will wipe ye and yer entire family from the face of this earth.”

Shoving the servant to the ground, Ramsay Kinnaird flew out of the room, his murderous plan taking shape as he went.

Chapter 5

Scotland – Present Day

As usual, everything took twice as long as planned. Despite the fact that our plane had landed early that morning, it was close to six PM. Dusk was beginning to set in as we loaded the documents from the museum into the small compact rental and headed out of the city.

Several hours later, hungry and exhausted, we finally spotted the small inn that Mom had remembered. I parked in front of the charming two-story home and flipped on the interior lights of the cramped car as I pulled out a map.

“What do you think? Are we close enough to the ruins to stop for the night?”

Yawning, Mom stretched and nodded.

“Yes. We’re only about thirty minutes away, and I’ve always wanted to try this place out. It looks great, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does. Let’s go. I’m totally exhausted.”

We unloaded our suitcases and made our way to the inn’s entrance. Stepping inside the old wooden door, I smiled as the warmth of the fireplace to the left washed over me, melting away the icy feeling in my fingers and face.

I was loosening my scarf and unbuttoning my jacket when I heard a voice coming from the top of the stairs.

“Jerry! I think there’s someone here. Go see if they will be wanting a room and, for God’s sake, ask them if they want something to eat.”

My stomach growled immediately at the mention of food. I hadn’t eaten anything since the plane, and the one bite I’d had of the soggy powdered eggs hadn’t held me for long. I reached down to pat my stomach, hoping it would stop growling at my request, just as the most miserable-looking man I’d ever seen walked our way from what appeared to be the kitchen.

Hunkered over, with a head covered in gray hair, he was far too skinny. He had the most severe-looking face, with a long, pointed nose and a chin that jutted far outward. I couldn’t help but think that he more than slightly resembled Ebenezer Scrooge.

“Well, hello lassies,” the man said with a large smile. “The two of ye look like ye’re about to freeze to death, shivering in the doorway. Please, come in and I’ll get ye something warm to eat, as I assume ye’ll be staying the night.” He quickly patted me on the shoulder and then walked back toward the kitchen, waving his hand so that we would follow.

I was certain my jaw visibly dropped, and it took me a few good seconds before I could follow. I glanced at my mother, who was staring back at me with a look of pure satisfaction.

“Never judge a book by its cover, Bri.” She smiled and finally followed me.

Once inside the room, we were quickly whisked to a small table in the corner. Two steaming bowls of soup were placed in front of us, then the man’s questions began.

“We’re so glad to see the both of ye. First guests we’ve had here in a long while. Out o’ the way as I’m sure ye know. Where are ye from? And what brings ye to this part o’ the world?”

Mom spoke up first. “We’re from the States—I live all over. Bri’s my daughter, and she’s a teacher from Austin, Texas. I’m here to do some archaeological work on the ruins of Conall Castle. I convinced Bri to come along and help.”

“Ahh . . . Texas ye say?” The man turned and looked in my direction. “I know the whereabouts. My wife Gwendolyn grew up in San Antonio. She came here to visit her uncle as a young lass, about eighteen I think she was. I worked for the old man; from the second I saw her running through the field, trying to catch one of his sheep . . .”

He started laughing a deep, belly laugh that shook his whole body. I couldn’t help but smile as well, the man’s love for his wife evident with each heave of his shoulders.

“Well . . . I fell in love with her right then, and I knew that she wasn’t going back to the United States.”

“What’s that, Jerry? What lies are you telling these poor women?” A petite woman, with striking green eyes entered the kitchen, and after planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek, came in our direction, to greet us.

“I hope he’s not boring you two to death with his tall tales. Let me guess, he was telling you about how he swept me off my feet; rendered me so senseless that I never went home. Well, he knows good and well it was this scenery I fell in love with, not this blithering old fool.”

She winked over her shoulder at him, and I could tell by the twinkle in his eye he didn’t believe a word of her teasing.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur for the both of us. The old couple talked for hours, and I found myself captivated by the stories of their years spent together.

Finally, at half past eleven, we carried the last load of documents to a small room at the top of the stairs. Gwendolyn had attempted to give us each our own room, but Mom asked that we share, insisting that it would be easier to do research if we were in the same room.

As I listened to Mom mess up the covers while she tossed and turned in the antique bed, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and pulled on my favorite flannel pajamas. Exhausted, I crawled into the bed and stuck my icy cold feet up against the warmth of my mother’s sock-warmed toes.

I sighed and rolled over in an effort to claim back some of the covers that were disproportionally on the other side of bed.

“I know what you’re thinking, darling. You’ll get it someday.”

“What’s that?” I rolled over once more to face her.

“You want a relationship like Jerry and Gwendolyn. I could see it in the way you looked at them the whole evening. You’ll get it someday. Not every relationship is like mine was with your father.”

“I know. You’re right. I just worry sometimes that it isn’t ever going to happen for me.”

“It will. But, sweetheart, you might want to ditch the retainer and buy some sexier PJs first.”

* * *

Three days later, and I sat surrounded by piles of yellowing parchment and dust.

I blew a rogue strand of hair out of my face that had slipped free from its binding with my lower lip. So far, we’d spent our days in Scotland pouring over the boxes of documents without luck.

I glanced over at my mother, who with each passing day grew more restless. “I think we should take a break. Let’s drive to the ruins and poke around there. Just start digging. Perhaps, we’ll have more luck that way.”

I was certain she hadn’t heard a word. Her brow was creased in concentration, and her mind was clearly elsewhere as her eyes frantically searched the document in front of her. “Mom. Are you . . . ?”

“Oh my God! Sweet Mary, Moses, and Joseph! I cannot believe it!” She jumped up, screaming and dancing awkwardly around the room.

“What?” I stared at her, startled and slightly worried by her strange outburst.

“Bri! Come and look at this. I’m so tired, I wouldn’t put it past myself to be imagining it. Quick. Come and see!”

“Everything all right in there?” Gwendolyn’s voice called to us from the other side of the doorway, concern clear in her voice.

Mom ran to the door and swinging it open, threw her arms around the innkeeper. “Oh, yes. Everything is fantastic!”

“Okay, then. Good. Umm . . . there’s some lunch for you both on the stove. But, please, take your time. It will be there when you’re ready.” Gwendolyn slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her, obviously confused.

“Mom. What’s the matter with you? You scared her to death!” I chuckled as I reached for the thick, yellowed piece of parchment she was extending in my direction.

“I don’t know how I never noticed it before. It must’ve fallen out of one of Alasdair’s journals. I’m certain it’s in his hand.”

I scanned the crumbling paper, struggling to make out some of the faded lettering. “Do you think it’s true? Could there really be another room, a secret room in the basement that was never found in a previous dig? I thought you all had cleaned everything out of that basement.”

“I don’t know. I would be surprised, simply because we spent so much time excavating the basement, but it’s the most promising thing we’ve found so far. We have to go and check it out.”

“Absolutely, we do. Let’s get cleaned up, go eat lunch, and hit the road.”

“Yes. Let’s! You take the shower. I’ll take one when we get back here tonight. I’m just going to splash some water on my face.”

I turned on the shower and stepped away to grab a towel and a change of clothes while I allowed the water to heat up. As I turned from the tub, I caught a glimpse of Mom’s smiling reflection in the mirror and thought for a moment it was myself. All my life, people had told me how much we resembled one another, but I’d never been able to see it until that very moment.

Her eyes were glowing with excitement and, with her grinning broadly, I could see the young woman my mother once was, and the resemblance between us was undeniable.

I hurried in the shower, knowing my mother was anxious to get to the site, but I still felt warm and refreshed when I turned off the steamy spray. I reached around the curtain to grab a towel and saw my mother sitting on the edge of the bed twiddling her thumbs and tapping her feet.

She’s always been good at subtlety
, I thought to myself as I rushed to get ready as quickly as possible. Her jittering reminded me of my kindergarteners when they’ve waited too long to go to the restroom.

I pulled out my favorite pair of jeans and a v-cut blue t-shirt that matched the color of my eyes, donning them as I went back into the bathroom to throw on some makeup.

Quickly glancing at myself in the mirror, I pulled the hair away from my eyes with a clip, and walked back to the suitcase to retrieve my tennis shoes. I hadn’t even bothered to pack any other pair. I knew that for the work we’d be doing, practicality was key.

I motioned in Mom’s direction, waving her to the door so she would know I was ready. Together we made our way down the stairs. As we entered the kitchen, I saw my mother’s eyes widen as she noticed the steaming pan of lasagna on the stove and Jerry and Gwendolyn sitting at the table.

“I decided to pull out one of my mother’s recipes from the States for our American guests. Hope you enjoy. Come and sit down with us.” Gwendolyn scooted over next to her husband and motioned to the two seats on the other side of the table. “I also packed you both a bag of sandwiches. From the commotion earlier, I figured you ladies might be out the rest of the day.”

“Thank you.” I filled my own plate and sat down across from Jerry. “You really don’t have to cook for us every meal.”

“Oh, doona worry, lass. We’re charging ye for every bit of it.” Jerry chuckled as Gwendolyn smacked his arm.

“Oh, you hush. It’s really no problem. You wouldn’t be able to find any other food anyhow. We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, thank you. This lasagna is delicious.” I shoveled the steamy goodness into my mouth, grateful it hadn’t been haggis awaiting us.

“Well, good. I’m glad you like it. I haven’t made it in a very long time. Not Jerry’s favorite, but it sure brings back a lot of memories of my mother’s home cooking.”

“Bri doesn’t have very many memories of that, I’m afraid. Not much of a cook myself. Bri’s very good though. Guess she learned to fend for herself once she got tired of boxed macaroni and cheese every night.” Mom laughed as she got up to get her second serving of lasagna.

“It wasn’t all that bad, Mom. You were a wiz at navigating take-out menus.”

Gwendolyn laughed and got up to clear her and Jerry’s plates. “Well, you ladies have a good rest of the day. Jerry and I are off to town to pick up a few groceries. We’ll see you two in the morning. I’ll leave the key by the front door if you don’t mind locking it and placing it under the mat on your way out.”

“Sure thing. Thanks again!” Mom shouted as we watched the couple leave. “Okay, sweetheart. You ready? I want us to have plenty of time to search around before nightfall.”

I watched as mom pulled my plate away from me and placed it in the sink, not waiting for my reply. Obviously, I was through whether I wanted to be or not. “Sure, Mom. Let’s get out of here.”

I could feel the excitement emanating from my mother as I locked the front door to the inn and climbed into the rental. Together, we mapped out the route to the castle and set off toward the ruins.

Chapter 6

Scotland—1645

Blaire yawned and stretched generously over the luscious feather bed that was covered in a color of lavender that matched almost everything else in the room. She had never seen a room more delicately decorated for a woman’s tastes, and she suspected that it had once been Elspeth Conall’s place of refuge. It certainly had been hers since she’d arrived at the castle. Upon learning of the brothers’ quick departure after her arrival, she’d been so furious Blaire had decided not to leave the room until they were back at the castle.