Morna's Legacy: Box Set #1

by Bethany Claire

  “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.

  This morning, they’d arrived.

  And the end of her life, otherwise known as her wedding day, was set for three days’ time.

  Eoin was certainly handsome enough, but even as he had her pinned up against that column in the entranceway, with his breath coming in bursts against her ear and the side of her neck, not even a hint of a tingle had rushed down her spine.

  Different from most women she’d grown up with, Blaire’s life did not revolve around men, and her biggest worry was not finding a suitable husband. Blaire MacChristy dreamed of independence, of living on her own, of making her own way in life. As a result, Blaire had been endlessly chided anytime she voiced her desires, and her father made it very clear from an early age that her wishes mattered not anyway. Blaire didn’t want to get married, and she had decided the first time she’d heard a crying child that she would always prefer a good lap dog to a suckling babe at her breast.

  She never particularly like Eoin, but the moment she found out she was going to be married to him, she decided to put all of her effort into resenting his very being.

  Arran, on the other hand, she wanted to make amends with. She needed a friend in the castle and one with enough power to sway things in her favor if she was going to reside here for the rest of her miserable life.

  With Arran set as her number one task for the day, she quickly got dressed and pinned up her hair so that loose curls fell around her face. Wearing a light blue gown that beautifully framed her full breasts and trim waistline, she glanced in the mirror and decided that she was satisfied enough to exit her chambers.

  As she wande
red the many halls and corridors that wound through the castle, she couldn’t help but be struck by the castle’s great beauty. It had obviously been built by someone with great attention to detail and lived in by people who held great pride for their property and land.

  Rounding a corner while absentmindedly looking around, she ran into a friendly-faced, plump, elderly woman carrying fresh lavender linens, obviously on her way to freshen up her bed. She hit the woman with such impact that the servant dropped the pile she was carrying and immediately flew into a string of apologies.

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, miss. The bedding was blocking my view, or I would have seen ye coming around the corner. I should not have been so careless. Are ye alright, miss?”

  Struck by the woman’s apology, Blaire immediately bent and began to help her gather the load. “Doona apologize. I was the one who was too busy looking up. I should have been paying closer attention. What is yer name?”

  “My name is Mary, miss. I am pleased to make yer acquaintance. In person, that is. I’ve been talkin’ to ye through the door for a number o’ days now.”

  “Oh! Thank ye for bringing all of my meals. I wasn’t quite feeling myself. Do ye know where Arran is? I was hoping to apologize for the way I treated him, the night I arrived. Also, I believe there is a stable master that I should apologize to as well. I doona believe I made the best impression.”

  “Oh…the stable master is my husband, and his name is Kip. But doona worry about him, miss. He needs someone to give him a hard time every now and then. Lord knows he does the same to all of us most of the time.”

  The woman’s belly jiggled as she chuckled, and as the corners of her eyes crinkled with her smile, Blaire could see the woman’s kindness seep from her eyes.

  “As for Arran, I expect ye’ll find him in his chambers, miss. I saw him leaving the stables a few moments ago. Just so ye know miss, I told them it wasn’t a good idea for them to be running off like they did, but they never seem to listen to anyone but themselves. Stubborn, thick-skulled boys, the both o’ them. But don’t ye worry, miss. Mary’s given them a lecture, like they’ve likely never had in their lives before. They’re awfully sorry for the way they’ve treated ye, and they willna be doin it again, I can promise ye that.”

  “Well, thank ye Mary, but I suppose I’m to blame as well. Now, which room is Arran’s?”

  “Just on the opposite wall, one door down from yer own, miss. Right next to the laird’s.”

  * * *

  Blaire paced back and forth in front of the door waiting for Arran to answer. When she received no answer, she knocked more loudly, and resumed her pacing once more.

  Knocking a third time, she decided to try the bolt. It was unlocked, and she slipped inside the door, slamming it loudly behind her in an effort to draw attention to herself. Before she could even look around the room, her back was slammed into the door behind her, and she screamed as the knob jammed into her lower back.

  Immediately, the hand gripping her arms relaxed as she slumped to the floor, landing on her bottom. She peered up at Arran, watching as recognition flittered across his face.

  “Ach, lass! I’m verra sorry. I thought ye were Eoin, coming to give me hard time for sleeping in the middle of the day. But I expect he’s having as hard a time staying on his feet as I am.” He swayed slightly and, hovering over her, propped both hands against the doorframe. “But why the hell would ye walk into my bedchamber?”

  “I…I’m sorry,” she managed. Her back throbbed from the impact of the knob on her spine and the pain had her on the verge of tears. But she never cried in front of others, and she certainly was not going to start now. “I was just coming to apologize to ye.”

  Arran chuckled slightly. “Why would ye be doing a thing like that? I was quite certain ye’d be ready to tan both of us when ye saw us next.”

  “It’s not ye that I’m upset with. I’m sure ye felt obligated to accompany Eoin when he decided to philander around the countryside. But as to my behavior the night I arrived here, I had no reason to speak to ye so. I hope ye can forgive me.”

  “Lass…” he reached down to grab her shoulders and helped her to her feet. Once she was standing, he resumed his position against the doorway, leaving her trapped between his arms. “Ye shouldn’t be so hard on Eoin. It was my idea for us to leave. I talked him into it.”

  She interrupted him, shocking herself at the pitch of her voice. “Ye what? I just arrived! I didn’t even know my way around the keep when ye two left! Not that yer confession in any way excuses Eoin, but I canna believe both of ye could be so thoughtless.”

  * * *

  Arran stared down at her as she continued screaming. She was even more beautiful when she was angry, with her face flushing pink and her eyes a vibrant blue. No wonder his brother had pushed himself against her when she’d screamed at him. He couldn’t think of doing anything else, and with his head pounding and his thoughts still mushy, he couldn’t resist the temptation to silence her by crushing his mouth to hers.

  * * *

  She knew she was making a fool of herself, she didn’t even know what she was screaming anymore. It wasn’t until Arran’s lips moved against hers that she was shocked into silence.

  Her body reacted to his kiss in ways she didn’t even know were possible. All of her anger melted away, along with every other sensible thought in her head. She knew she should stop him, but when his hands dropped from the door to cup either side of her face, she found herself leaning into him, desperate to get closer.

  When he pushed her into the door with his body, she realized that despite the urgency of his kiss, he was taking special care not to hurt her back again. As his tongue slid deeper into her mouth, the feeling of his velvety lips undid her completely. Surrendering, she wove her fingers into his hair, clinging to his body and gently scratching his scalp. He groaned into her mouth as she tugged at his hair, grinding his hips toward her.

  It wasn’t until his hand dropped to cover her breast that Blaire returned to her senses. Oh God. This must stop. Doing the only thing she could think of to break his kiss, she raised her knee, throwing it into his groin. The second he dropped to his knees, she ran out of the door and back to her bedchamber without stopping to look back.

  Slamming the door to her own bedchamber, Blaire sank onto the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the wall until her breathing returned to normal. Reaching up to brush her fingers over her lips, the rush of emotions she’d felt only seconds ago came back to her.

  Blaire had always prided herself on not being driven by the mindless need for men like most women seemed to be, but perhaps she’d just been kissing the wrong men.

  Before Blaire’s engagement to Eoin had been announced, Blaire had her fair share of suitors at her father’s home. Many of them even kissed her, but she had always found the kisses to be only tolerable, if not mildly pleasant. Arran’s kiss was far more than tolerable, and it ignited the first glimmer of hope she’d had since arriving at the castle.

  * * *

  Arran couldn’t begin to imagine how he could have been so daft. She was engaged to his brother. She was the one person forbidden to him, and he had pinned her against the wall and kissed her with such passion he still couldn’t catch his breath.

  If it hadn’t been for her kneeing him in his groin, he knew he would have taken her to his bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so much. He could blame it on the ale, but he knew that was not what had made him kiss her.

  He had been captivated the moment he saw her in the entranceway with his brother and had suggested they leave town as much for his own benefit as for Eoin’s.

  The heat between them had been indisputable. The moment their lips touched, she melted into him. He briefly allowed himself to imagine where that kiss was leading before shaking himself out of it. She was Eoin’s. He would never tell his brother what had occurred between them, and he would make damned sure Blaire wouldn’t either.

  He coul
dn’t bear the thought of hurting his brother, and although he found it hard to believe he would be able to resist her, he swore to himself he would do his utmost to avoid Blaire MacChristy altogether.

  Chapter 7

  Just one more drink and he’d be brave enough to have the conversation he’d been putting off for three days. He couldn’t figure out what it was about this lass, but his whiskey consumption was leaning on the side of excess ever since her reentry into his life. Arran’s plans to avoid Blaire had gone about as well as his plan to take Eoin away until the wedding.

  It didn’t matter how many excuses he made to avoid the main building, he ended up with Blaire wrapped up in his arms. Whether he was working with Kip in the stables, shooting arrows in the field, or even helping Mary in the kitchen, they seemed to run into each other. And without fail, moments later he’d have her up against a wall or in a closet, trying to show her with his kiss just how much his body wanted her in his bed.

  And each time, she returned his passion with full force, begging him to marry her instead of Eoin. He couldn’t believe how much he wished he could do just that. Marry her and have children with her, and wake with her beside him every day. He loved her fiery spirit, the way she said what she thought without hesitation; he’d never met a lass who was so forceful with her words.

  Her beauty was another matter entirely. She made his heart race so fast that he could hardly breathe, but it was her wild spirit that he knew could tame his own wandering ways. She fit perfectly in his arms, in his heart. And the knowledge that he had to deny her for the sake of his brother caused him to reach for yet another glass, downing it quickly and standing to make his way to Blaire’s room, just down the hall.

  * * *

  He was surprised at how quickly she answered the door, or perhaps it just seemed as such with the way his head was swimming. His lips were warmed by the touch of Blaire’s lips. As she pressed herself up against him, he had to force himself to push her away, holding her arms tightly so that she couldn’t come closer to him. Cruelty was the only way she would accept his rejection and willingly marry his brother.