Love Beyond Compare (Book 5 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (25 page)

“For what, Jane?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking rather unkind things about you. All because I didn’t want to realize that someone else knew what I needed more than I did. I chose to feel like a victim, all because my life took a path I never envisioned for myself. It’s a foolish way to think. That’s what life does, doesn’t it, even if you don’t have a meddling witch hurtling you through time? We never really know when things are going to change.”

“I doona care for the word
meddle
. I am a lass whose life has been intertwined with two verra different times. It seems that my family’s destiny is much the same. All I do is help them along.”

“That’s just semantics, isn’t it?” I grinned teasingly.
 

Morna shrugged. “Perhaps, but the word
meddle
has a connotation that I doona care for.”

She sipped her tea and looked silently at me as I thought.
 

The last few days had healed things in me I hadn’t even realized were hurt, but I worried that it had come at a great cost to the one person we came all this way for.
 

“Morna, do you know why Cooper went through? Why we are all here?”

She sighed and nodded. The grimness on her face made my worry grow.
 

“Aye, I knew that the lass was ill—I could see Cooper’s worry over her when ye were all at McMillan Castle, but once we made it to Cagair Castle, I couldna see ye. I dinna know ye were coming until ye’d already passed through the portal. ’Twas a surprise that caused me to nearly choke on my dinner.”

I thought back on all the tiny details that were taken care of by the time we arrived—the passports, plane tickets, suitcases of clothes, even the hotel yesterday evening.
 

“How is that possible?”

“Every bit of magic I’ve ever done, every lass I’ve sent back or forward have all been within my realm of power—in the castles of my family or in a territory or realm no already claimed by another of my kind. Cagair Castle has never been within my ‘meddling’ power. The witch who holds it lives in the past but dinna survive as I have, for she is dead now. ’Tis why I dinna know of the portal and why once ye left McMillan Castle I could no longer see ye, no until ye passed through to this time.”

“That’s why you could spell the car back, though? Because the witch is dead in this time, so you have power over it now?”

“Aye, but I’ve never used it, never looked there because there’s been no reason to. The discovery of such a portal is news to me. Once I saw ye all coming, Jerry and I made haste to leave. ’Twas all simple enough magic. We arrived in New York only a plane ride ahead of ye.”

“But why even come to New York? Why make the effort? You could have just waited for us to arrive.”

“Ye needed to come, lass. Ye needed to see that ’tis yer choice to stay in the past, and I needed the time to find a way to tell ye what I must.”

My heart seemed to stop and then thumped painfully in my chest as thoughts of Isobel flooded my mind. If she died while we were away, I didn’t know how any of us would bear the guilt of leaving her.
 

“She’s already gone, isn’t she? We left and she died.”

Morna reached out and grabbed my hand, sympathy washing over her face.
 

“No, lass. No. She holds on well enough. ’Tis only that I doona know if I can help her. I doona know if I should.”

 
“Don’t know if you should? Morna, she will die without you.” I couldn’t imagine anything making her feel that way. That seemed a much better use for her magic than a trip to New York or disappearing cars.
 

“Aye, I know. Isobel is no a descendent of mine, but I could see her path well enough when ye first met her to know that this illness is meant to kill her.”

CHAPTER 35

I spent the plane ride back to Scotland in quiet reflection, analyzing every relationship I’d ever had, every person I’d ever cared for. What I realized was that, for me at least, love and hope were two emotions that went hand in hand. I couldn’t love another person without having some sort of hope for them.
 

Even my father, whom I loved with a unique blend of love and hate, I held onto a certain kind of hope for. I spent every day hoping he would wake up differently the next—that with a new day, he would become more warm, more kind, more present, and less of everything that he was. He was no longer a real part of my life, and yet that hope for him still lived on inside me.

For Cooper, my favorite person in all the world, I had endless hopes—hopes for his future, for his heart, and for the world that I knew he would touch in an unimaginable way. I would love and hope things for him even after I was long gone from this earth.
 

As far as I could tell, I needed both love and hope to get myself up in the morning, but those emotions also had the power to leave me utterly devastated.
 

I loved Isobel. She was a friend, a confidant, and an example of true strength in my life. Until Morna had said the words out loud to me, I never truly believed she would die. Logically I had. I even tried to explain that to Cooper, but the part of my heart that she occupied had never let that knowledge in.
 

It was a devastating notion and one that I didn’t think I could make my peace with, not when the solution that would heal Isobel was tucked safely away in my possession.
 

By nightfall, we would be back in the seventeenth century, and I would have to have my mind made up whether or not to use what Morna had given me. But as I sat in my chair, my arms wrapped tightly around my waist so that I wouldn’t cry, all I wanted to do was damn Morna’s warning straight to hell. For how could I be the one to let Isobel die?
 

*
 
*
 
*

We arrived at Morna’s inn by noon. After an hour of stretching, restroom breaks, and some lunch, we said our goodbyes and loaded up to make our way back to Cagair Castle. Morna said nothing to me as we left, but the look in her eyes as she patted my pocket and the potion that lay within it said more than enough. She hoped I wouldn’t go through with it.
 

She gave me the cure out of sympathy for Isobel but, for once, Morna didn’t want to be the one to make the decision. She believed all her choices and all her meddling had been to help fate along, but healing Isobel, she said, would be to defy it.
 

Now, I held Isobel’s life in my unworthy hands, and the responsibility of it was all I could think about on the way back to Cagair Castle. My initial reaction to the end of my conversation with Morna was that there was no decision for me to make—of course I would give it to her. Of course I would help, but was anything really all that simple?
 

If Isobel’s death was fated, as Morna so adamantly believed, what balance would I be upsetting to save her? Would the universe right itself in some unfathomable way—perhaps, by demanding the life of another? I had no way of knowing, but I knew Isobel well enough to know that she would not want to live on at the expense of someone else if that’s what her life would cost.

“Unless ye wish for us to knock on their front door, I think it best ye walk the rest of the way, lass.”

Adwen’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. For the first time in a good many miles, I truly took in the road ahead of me, finding us much closer to Cagair Castle than I thought.
 

“Sorry, my mind is rather tired.” I pulled over on the side of the road, just before the bridge leading to the castle. It was a cold, rainy day, and we’d not passed another car since leaving Morna’s. Unless Cagair Castle’s newest residents were outside, we would likely be able to walk the length of the bridge and go around the back to the portal completely unnoticed.
 

“Should we change here, Aunt Jane? I don’t think we should go back in this stuff. Isobel and Gregor won’t get it.”

Cooper had noticed my quiet demeanor after meeting with Morna. I knew by the way he stayed so close, reaching for my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze on and off throughout the day. Still, he asked nothing about Morna and whether or not she’d given Isobel the help we came looking for. I knew that for him to avoid the question meant that he was scared to hear the answer. Which truthfully, was just as well; I didn’t have one to give him anyway.
 

“Yes, unfortunately I think we should. You guys change outside, and I’ll do so in the car.”

All three groaned as they stepped out into the rain but did as I asked so quickly that I’d only just slipped out of my socks and pants when Adwen stuck his head back into the car.
 

“Hey, I’m not finished. Get out of here.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head without budging from the doorway.
 

“Jane, I’ve seen more of ye than ’tis showing now. Cooper’s growing restless from the long day of travel. I think I’ll chase him to the portal. Orick will wait for ye here, and ye can meet us. We willna go through without ye. Do ye mind, lass?”

“No. He’ll love that. Go.”
 

He leaned in and kissed me before standing to holler after Cooper to tell him to run.
 

Knowing that Orick stood waiting for me hurried me up quite a lot, and I was able to push Isobel from my mind long enough to squirm back into my seventeenth century clothes and join Orick outside.
 

“Sorry, that was a little bit tricky in the car.”

“Aye, I believe it. I couldna have done it, myself.”

The rain didn’t bother me. It fit my pensive mood, and Orick didn’t seem to mind getting soaked through as we walked down the bridge rather slowly together.

“What is it that eats at ye so, Jane? Ye’ve usually a light about ye, unlike most. That light is dimmer since yesterday.”

“It’s nothing.”

“’Tis no nothing, lass. Is it Adwen? Do I need to knock him about for ye? I told him that if he hurt ye, I’d see him unable to walk for a full moon at least.”

I laughed, thinking of Cooper. “You’re not the only one that told him something like that.”

“Ah, I see my young friend has done the same, then?”

“Yes, but it’s not Adwen. It’s Isobel…”

I told him everything. All the while, he walked next to me listening intently. I was crying by the time I finished. Over the course of our walk, the rain had picked up its pace so that I couldn’t tell the difference between the raindrops and the tears that ran down my face.

“I don’t know what to do. How can I let her die? But then, who am I to change the way things are supposed to be? Do you believe in fate, Orick?”

We reached the end of the bridge, and Orick took my hand as we stepped onto the grass. He held onto me, helping me trudge through the rain-soaked lawn as we made our way around to the side. We were only fifty yards away from the portal when Orick stopped dead in his tracks, staring up to the light-filled window as he placed his right hand over his heart.
 

“No, lass, though if there was one that could make me believe in fate, I believe ’twould be her.”
 

I looked up to see a cascade of red fill the window as the woman Orick spoke of let loose her hair. It was his “ghost” in the flesh.
 

“What I wouldna give to hold those fiery locks in my hands, Jane.”

I smiled as I turned to look at him, my sadness melting away as I looked at the adoration in his eyes. Any woman to gain Orick’s affections was luckier than she knew.
 

“You could always try to, I guess. Just go on and knock on the door and speak to her. I’ll wait for you if you like.”

Orick pulled his gaze from the window, his cheeks blushing in spite of the rain. “No, lass. I couldna do that. Even if I had the courage, ’twould be to no end. My place is next to Adwen until the day I die.”

 
“Why?” My head reared back in surprise. It was such an extreme statement, I had difficulty fathoming it. “Adwen is a grown man. Don’t you deserve your own happiness?”

“I am happy. Verra. But I wasna always that way. Has Adwen told ye how I came to be with him and his family?”

 
“No, he hasn’t. How?” I’d wondered about his history from the first moment I met him.
 

“I was no more than twelve and, while I know my size now, I was no so large when Adwen found me. He was only six and had more meat on his bones than I. I’d lived in silence, all alone and near starved for many moons when he saved me.”

“Saved you? From what?”
 

“I grew up in a poor home with penniless parents who worked for everything they had. We worked our own land, built our own home, and never took from a soul. ’Twas my job to take the fruits of our labor to the village and sell them, and it pained me to do so every time.

“Ye see, when I learned to talk as a young boy, the words wouldna come smoothly. I couldna get anything out, and I would stutter and struggle with the simplest of phrases. Seeing others only caused me heartache, for I always felt shame at my difficulty. But still, ’twas always my job to go to the village, for my mother said I’d never get better if I dinna speak to others. She was right, though I wouldna know for many years. On the day my parents died, I’d fought with them over going to the village. When I came home, I found them slaughtered.