Love Beyond Compare (Book 5 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (6 page)

It was the voice of the second man who stood nearest to the doorway. He was even taller than the first, and I found him to be one of the most formidably large men I’d ever seen. Not fat, simply tall and broad and, even in the darkness, all muscle. All I could see was his outline, but had this been the twenty-first century, he would have undoubtedly been some sort of professional athlete.
 

“Yes, I’m fine. I just spilled some wax. Give me a moment.”

They stood in the entryway while I lit all of the candles. Only once I was done did I step back to fully give them a good look over.
 

Good-looking specimens, the both of them.
 

The taller one who’d just spoken offered me a warm but shy smile as I looked them over. His bright blue eyes shone with a kindness that immediately eased any previous concern I’d had about the two men. He had dark hair, cropped shorter than most men of the time but still long enough that natural curls stood out on end, giving him a wild, rugged appearance.

He had the biggest hands I’d ever seen. As I gazed at them, I could see the wear on his palms, the callouses caused from repeated hard work. I immediately made the assumption that this man wasn’t Adwen. Not that the other lairds I knew didn’t work hard, they certainly did, only it wasn’t often the same back breaking work that so many others did day in and day out.
 

The man I presumed to be Adwen stood only a few inches shorter than the first, bringing him in at a solid six-foot-two. He was impossibly handsome, with dark hair that fell nearly to his shoulders and thick dark brows that framed honey-colored eyes.
 

He took one step toward me, placing his hand on the side of my arm.
 

“Ye have burned yer hand from the wax, lass. Let me take that candle from ye.”

The touch of his hand sent a spark shooting down my arm and I relented, passing off the dripping candle before turning to dip my hand in a cool basin of water.
 

“Thank you. Uh, the castle you say? So you know the McMillans then? Might I ask your names?”

I glanced up at both of the men as I splashed the cool water over my hand, and the man I believed to be Adwen confirmed my assumption about his identity.
 

“Aye, to all three of yer questions, lass. Aye, we were just at the castle. Aye, ye may ask our names—my name is Adwen MacChristy, and I’m soon to be laird over Cagair Castle. This here,” he paused and gestured for the second man to step forward. “This is Orick, my friend and trusted hand. And lastly, aye, I know the McMillans well and, from yer accent and the resemblance ye bear to Eoghanan’s wife, I’d venture a guess and say that ye know them even better than I. Can I ask ye yer name, lass?”

I’d never really thought that Grace and I looked that much alike, but for our entire lives people had pointed out the similarities. I supposed, despite our mutual denial, that it was true. In my haste to hide the panic on my face, I turned to find a cloth to dry my hands.
 

“My name is, uh, Lily.” I gritted my teeth, thinking it a foolish name to choose, but my other sister’s name was the first that came to mind. “And no, I’m afraid that I don’t know them. Just in the same way that everyone else does around here; I’ve never been a guest in the castle.”

“Is that so, lass? Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that ye are no the same lass that was absent from the dining hall this evening. Ye speak in the exact same manner as the wives of the laird and his brother.”

I glared at him, realizing that he’d known who I was instantly, but aggravated that he seemed so intent on gaining some sort of confession. He didn’t know me; none of it was any of his business.

“Well, perhaps we just come from the same place originally.”

He crossed his arms, his face so smug that I wanted nothing more than to slap the expression right off it. “And just what land might that be? I’ve traveled to a great many places and no anywhere have I heard speech such as what ye three lassies have.”

I racked my brain for the name of a place obscure enough that surely sir nosey-britches wouldn’t have traveled there. Nothing brilliant came to mind and unexpected words escaped my lips. They couldn’t have been more stupid. “I come from Atlantis.”

Orick, who’d not spoken since I re-lit the candles, couldn’t contain a laugh as Adwen took a step closer to me, shaking his head in disbelief.
 

“Oh, the lost city, lass? Well, what a grand tale ye must have since ye escaped the mythical, doomed city so well and intact. Ye must be hundreds of years old by now, aye? I must say, ye look verra young for yer age.” He laughed until his face was bright red enough to serve as a stop sign.
 

By the time he finished, I was thoroughly pissed. “What’s the matter with you? Why do you care who I am? You just came here for a bed to sleep in, right?”

Adwen looked over his shoulder and gave Orick a sly grin that only served to baffle me further. “Aye, but that is no the only reason I came here tonight.”

“Excuse me? Just what exactly does that mean?”

 
I reminded myself of Cooper after he’d been caught by Eoghanan; I was behaving in much the same way, babbling incessantly in response to my irritation. I couldn’t seem to stop and took to flailing my arms about dramatically as I spoke, pointing my fingers at him and pacing the room. I looked mad.
 

“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know what you mean by that. Fine. I give up. My name is not Lily, but it is none of your damn business what my name actually is. I feel like I’m being interrogated by the police, and that only actually happened once and…”

I stopped once I saw the look of pure confusion that seemed to mingle with a bit of fear on Orick’s face and look of pure delight on Adwen’s.
 

“Lass…” Before I could continue, Adwen took three steps toward me, grabbing onto the sides of both my arms so that I could no longer pace frantically about the room. “Might I call ye Jane, for I know that to be yer name? I heard Eoghanan discussing ye with the wee lad, Cooper. I believe ye might be in some trouble when ye return to the castle, but ’tis no my concern.”

I yanked myself free from his grip and moved to sit down. “None of it is any of your concern.”

He nodded, not hesitating for a moment to sit down at the table across from me—much to my continued irritation.

“Ye are right, lass. Forgive me. ’Tis only that I dinna understand why ye felt the need to lie about who ye are.”

“I don’t think Baodan would approve of my working here. Only a few people in the castle know that I’ve been spending my days here. Please…” I hesitated, everything inside me not wanting to ask any favor of the infuriating man. “Don’t tell Baodan if you see him again. I like my work here. I don’t wish to spend my days lying around the castle.”
 

He reached out and gave my hand a light squeeze before I jerked it back toward me. I found him overly excessive with his touching for someone I just met.
 

“He will hear nothing from me, lass. Might I give ye one last heed?”

I folded my arms in my lap in case he tried to reach across the table again. “Does it matter if I say no?”

“No.”

“Then absolutely, heed away.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and I couldn’t tell whether he was angry or amused. “The way ye spoke to me earlier, cursing and speaking of something called a ‘police’…if I dinna already know of the magic and not only where but when ye come from, ye would sound right mad. Ye need to be more cautious, lass.”

“What?” I stood, bumping the edge of the table so that it ran into Adwen’s stomach. “You know? How?”

I knew only through explanations given by Grace and Mitsy that the MacChristy family had been used as a cover-up of sorts with the Conalls several years prior, when a twenty-first century woman like myself had come through looking like the exact twin of a MacChristy already living in the seventeenth century, but I didn’t know they’d told the MacChristy family the truth of all that had happened.

“Sit yerself down, lass. Yer face is all red again, and ye look as if ye might swoon.”

The shock of his words combined with the frustration that still coursed through my body made me rather lightheaded. Reluctantly, I did as he instructed.
 

“Aye, Eoin Conall, laird over at Conall Castle told me everything no even a fortnight ago.”

“And you believed him?”

“Lass,” he moved to reach for my hand again, and I pulled it from his grasp, shaking my head at him as I narrowed my eyes angrily. He returned his hand to his side, the left corner of his mouth pulling up in the same frustrating way once again. “I’ve traveled all over the world and seen a great many things that I can give no true explanation for. We Highland folk know that magic exists in the world, ’tis only that we doona see it with our own eyes verra often. But after meeting the many of ye lassies that seem to have traveled through, what with yer wild tongues, and strange sayings, I doona doubt the truth of it for a moment.”

“Okay, then.” I exhaled, relaxing as a strange sense of relief moved through me. The two men sitting in this room with me were the only people outside of my family here that knew the truth of who I was and where I came from. With that pretense removed, I felt the liberating permission to behave exactly like myself—not to say that my earlier outburst hadn’t brought out the most sincere parts of my personality anyway.
 

I stood, dusting my hands on my apron out of habit more than necessity and turned to address both of them. “I know that you just came from the castle, but are you hungry, perhaps?”
 

“I couldna eat another thing, but thank ye.”
 

“Well, I could.” Orick spoke, and I wondered if perhaps our exchange had made him uncomfortable. I hoped that it hadn’t; something about him made me like him immensely. “I dinna get to eat at the castle.”

“Great.” I pointed to a seat and turned to make my way into the kitchen. “Take a seat and I’ll bring you some stew.”

There was still some warm stew from when I’d fed myself earlier, and I quickly spooned a hearty helping into a bowl to return to Orick. When I stepped back into the dining area, I saw him chewing on a chunk of bread with an expression of pure agony.
 

“Thank ye, lass, but I believe my stomach tricked me. I am no as hungry as I thought.”

I snatched the bread out of his hand and sat the bowl of stew down, despite his objections.
 

“It’s terrible, I know. That wasn’t meant for you to eat. I shouldn’t have left it out. That was the worst batch, by far. Don’t worry. I’m rubbish at baking, but I have discovered that I am pretty darn good with a piece of meat. You’ll enjoy this…I think.”

I watched nervously as he lifted the bowl to his mouth to taste it and breathed only after he nodded in acknowledgement, throwing me a polite wink to let me know it was edible.
 

“’Tis delicious, lass. Thank ye.”

I turned my head to find Adwen staring enviously at Orick’s bowl of stew, and I smiled apologetically at him.
 

“Sorry, that’s all that’s left.”
 

“Ach no, ye speak in jest, aye? The smell of it has made me hungry once again.”

I shrugged, moving backward to lean against the wooden bar area that separated the dining room from the kitchen. “Nope. No jokes, here. It’s really all gone.”

Adwen’s face dropped like that of a small child’s, and he stood from his seat sulkily before replacing his frown with that same friendly smile he’d had on his face every time I’d swatted his hand away earlier. Moving with the authority of a king, he neared me, trapping me against the bar so that I couldn’t slide either direction without bumping into one of his arms. I leaned far back over the bar to avoid him.
 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

He laughed and reached behind me, presenting the rag I’d dried my wax-scorched hands on.
 

“Ye have some flour on yer brow, lass. No doubt from when ye were baking the poisonous loaves of bread.”

I closed my eyes, permitting him to brush the flour away. “They weren’t poisonous—just disgusting.”

“The smell of Orick’s food has made me verra hungry, Jane. If ye have no food to feed me, perhaps ye can help me find satisfaction in some other way?”

Orick burst into laughter first, and it was only a second before I joined him. I doubled over with giggles, placing one palm on Adwen’s chest to push him away. I tried to speak in between bouts of unstoppable laughter.

“Did you…Adwen, you can’t be serious? Was that like a move or something? Were you hitting on me—asking me to sleep with you?”

He looked as if I’d slapped him, and I couldn’t hide the satisfaction I felt at his irritation. Still, I had to admire how forthcoming he was with his answer.
 

“Aye, lass. I doona understand why it humors ye so, but ’twas precisely what I meant to ask ye. I think ye are beautiful, Jane.”

I held up a hand to silence him. “Stop. Please, don’t say anything else. Does that usually work for you?”