Love Beyond Belief (Book 7 of Morna’s Legacy Series)

by Bethany Claire

  When I first spotted him in the pick-up area, I started at the sight of him. I didn’t know if they just didn’t make them like that in Italy, or if he was truly as good looking as he seemed to me—it had been a long time since I’d stepped out of my sleepy village—but I found him immensely attractive.

  He was tall, but not freakishly so. He wore a dark green sweater that hugged him just tightly enough so that anyone could tell that he didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. His tan corduroy pants, while not the most normal piece of clothing I’d ever seen, suited him.

  I could tell he didn’t have a clue what I looked like, not that he would have reason to, and I appreciated the moment of anonymity so I could stand back and really look him over.

  His hair was thick and full, and I had the strangest desire to run my fingers through it. I found my reaction to him ridiculous, but I still stood there and gawked at him for another long minute or so.

  He was just a guy, most likely one with a completely average, dull personality, but from afar, my lady bits didn’t seem to care one bit how boring he would most likely turn out to be.

  Suddenly, a button popped me in the nose. I looked down to see that my blouse had busted open in response to the needy, shaky breath I’d drawn as I watched him lean against the car and cross his arms in such a way that his muscles bulged out against the sweater. Luckily, it was the top button rather than the middle one right between my breasts, and it didn’t reveal too much by leaving the tiniest bit open.

  That was enough for me to shake myself out of my teenage-like stupor. I reached down to grab my suitcase sitting on the ground next to me. Only then did I hear the snickering of the middle-aged woman standing next to me.

  “Oh dearie, ye’re in trouble with that one, I can tell ye right now. I suppose ye are the one he’s waiting for then? Ye best close yer mouth and blink a few times so that ye doona look so doe-eyed before ye walk over to him. Never let a man see how much ye like him.”

  “Right.” I stood and straightened myself and smiled at the woman in thanks. “I don’t even know him. He’s just picking me up to take me to my new job. He’s probably awful.”

  The stranger shook her head and laughed. “Lass, it wouldna matter two twats to me if he was the dullest man in the country. If I was fifteen years younger, I’d be racing ye over there.”

  We chuckled loudly together before I bid her goodbye. Her words had done me good—I felt much less foolish for my drool session after my brief conversation with her.

  Grabbing my things, I walked toward him, determined to behave as the grown-up woman I was.

  He didn’t see her until she spoke to him, her delicate hand sliding into view as he stared down at his feet, lost in his thoughts. When he looked up into her eyes, he nearly swallowed his tongue. Even when Morna said she feared Grier’s hand in the woman’s arrival, he’d not thought about the possibility that it would be the lass he’d seen so many months before.

  “Hi. I’m Sydney.”

  It took him a moment, but he regained his composure after a few seconds. He only hoped the shock hadn’t remained on his face too long. He took her hand. The feel of it made the muscles in his stomach clench. The blurry outlines he’d seen of her months ago did little justice to her beauty.

  “Ye may call me Callum. Welcome to Scotland.”

  “Thank you. Do you want me to put these in the back?”

  As she stepped away from him, her hair blew in the wind, and the fragrance from the strands nearly undid him. He moved quickly to step in front of her, reaching for her bags.

  “No, lass. Ye needn’t do that. I’ll put them in the back. Go ahead and get in. ’Tis a bit of a drive back to Cagair.”

  He needed the moment away from her, as he stowed her bags in the trunk, to calm himself, to heed Morna’s warning as she’d begged him to, to grasp onto the vial, and remind himself of what he needed to do. It did seem unlikely that it could be the same woman he’d seen without magic being involved. Although by the looks of her, she didn’t appear to be one that meddled with witches or even knew of their true existence. Still, he would do his utmost to find out.

  Closing the trunk, he walked to the driver’s side and climbed inside. Immediately, the small space between them seemed electric with tension. He needed to break it, lest he throw all caution away and plant his lips on her right now. He doubted the lass would appreciate it only seconds after meeting him.

  He placed the car in drive and pulled away from the airport, following the strange moving map Anne had strapped to his dash so he wouldn’t get lost. He loved driving—it was the first skill he insisted on learning during his time in the twenty-first century.

  Once he had his bearings on direction, he spoke. “Have ye been to Scotland before? Why would ye want a job here?”

  Her voice was pleasant—smooth and kind—just as he imagined it to be.

  “No, this is my first time here. I just really needed a change. There was no time for life in my old job. It was day in, day out. I just couldn’t do it anymore. It surprised me to receive a response from Cagair after so much time, though. I sent in the application like half a year ago.”

  “Aye. I’m sure ’twas surprising.”

  Surely that response alone was proof enough that she was as much a pawn in Grier’s meddling as the rest of them. Her surprise sounded genuine to him.

  “It was a good surprise, though. A bit of a saving grace really. It came at just the right time.”

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give her the potion as Morna wished him to. Sydney knew nothing of magic. He knew it just as surely as he knew that Morna was liable to strangle him once she learned about his decision. He felt drawn to the lass, and he wanted her to trust him. How could she if he spelled her only minutes after they met?

  “In regard to surprises, lass, I feel I should give ye a warning about what awaits ye when we arrive.”

  He could hear her move slightly in her seat, but he didn’t dare glance over for fear the sight of her might distract him. The last thing he wanted to do was send the both of them flying off into a ditch.

  “Oh?”

  “Aye. Ye see, there was a mix-up with the email. ’Twas sent on accident.”

  “What? Do you already have a chef? Someone really should have told me that on the phone when I called. I wouldn’t have come the rest of the way.”

  He hurried to reassure her, unthinkingly reaching out to squeeze her hand. She gasped at his touch. The sound of it caused his stomach to clench in response to her once more.

  “No, lass. ’Tis not that. The opening of the castle has been delayed for some time. The owner is hosting family so she and the woman who helps in the castle’s running delayed their search for a time. But a chef is needed, believe me.”

  “Oh, good. You scared me. I was about to be so embarrassed.”

  He could hear the relief in her voice. If his mind wasn’t already decided against giving her the potion, it most certainly would have been then.

  “One other thing...there is an old woman staying at the castle. Her name is Morna. She’s a good friend to all of us, but she’s not all there anymore, if ye ken my meaning. She oftentimes rambles on about things that doona make sense. If she says anything to ye or asks ye strange questions, doona worry yerself over it. Just be kind and answer truthfully, for she willna remember yer answers nor her questions come morning.”

  It was an awful but necessary lie.

  CHAPTER 10

  Once I actually met Callum, it was easy to be around him. Not that I found him less attractive once I got in the car with him—the exact opposite was true—but there was no reason for me to turn into the gawking, shaky fool I’d been for those few short moments at the airport. He was kind, smart, and had a sort of quiet funniness about him that was incredibly charming.

  At one point during the drive to Cagair, he even reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. While unexpected, I appreciated his soft, reassuring touch very much. When we pul
led onto the narrow road leading to Cagair, I realized that I couldn’t recall a single glimpse of scenery that we passed on our way there thanks to how much his conversation distracted me.

  Luckily, when the job was officially mine, this would be my home. I’d have more than enough time to really explore everything properly.

  “Here we are, lass. This is Cagair Castle. I doona think there is a prettier structure in all of Scotland.”

  I wasn’t about to disagree. Even though I had no firsthand knowledge of the country, I couldn’t imagine anything being more splendid.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “As are ye.”

  I knew I blushed at his words—my fair cheeks always did when I was embarrassed—but I managed to play his compliment off as if it were a casual statement. I was certain that was how he meant it, no matter how sweetly he said it.

  I cocked my head at him, smiled, and pulled up one of my shoulders in a quick little nervous movement as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  “Well, thanks. That’s a very kind thing for you to say.”

  As he shut off the engine to the car, he jumped out to come around and open my door before running around the back to gather my luggage.

  “Go on in. I’m certain Anne is waiting for ye. I’ll see these up to yer room.”

  I wondered then, as I nervously approached the stairs leading up to the castle’s main doors, just what exactly Callum’s role was here at the castle. Was Anne his wife? Did he simply work here? Our talk of my old job and his warning about the castle had left me little time to ask him.

  “Hello, Sydney. I’m happy you made it safely. Aren’t delays just the worst?”

  I looked up at the voice to see a woman around my own age waving me to the top of the stairs. She smiled wide at me as I approached.

  “You must be Anne. I’m very pleased to meet you. Yes, delays are awful. I hoped to arrive with much more energy than I have now.”

  She shook her head sympathetically, placing a hand on my shoulder as she ushered me to the side of the doorway.

  “I can’t even imagine. Now, before I bring you inside, I better let you in on what’s going on here since you’re about to be inundated with nosy people. If I know Callum, he’s already told you that we weren’t really expecting you; however, I am thrilled you’re here. We are filled to the brim with people right now—not guests but close friends and family. They’re all busy working, but you’ll meet them at dinner this evening. We’d love for you to join us so you can get to know everyone.”

  “I’m up for whatever you need me to do. You’re the boss.” I looked over my shoulder to see Callum approaching with my bags. I hoped that I’d not been too presumptuous by not securing lodging elsewhere. However, judging by the location of the castle, I doubted there was anywhere else for me to go. “I know I’m not actually hired yet, but I did bring my things. Do you have room for me? If not, I’m sure I can figure something out. How far is the nearest town?”

  “Oh, you’re hired. Everybody has lost weight since I took over the cooking, and only a few of us had any weight to lose to begin with. Callum will set up your room for you and will leave your things there. Then he’s got to scurry along and get to his own work.”

  Callum gave me a quick nod and a smile before entering in the main doors ahead of us. I started to ask him what his job was, but before I could say another word, Anne whisked me inside and opposite the direction Callum had gone. She moved so quickly I had little time to take in the castle’s interior before we reached the top of a set of stairs that Anne informed me led down to the kitchens.

  “Come on down. The kitchen is in the basement. It’s where it originally would have been. Gillian really did her best to restore everything exactly right. It’s all modernized, but we didn’t change its location.”

  I didn’t know who Gillian was, but I expected to get answers to all of my questions soon enough.

  I followed her down the steps and into the prettiest kitchen I’d ever seen. They more than modernized it—they made it a topnotch workspace worthy of even the pickiest of chefs. It put the kitchen in my restaurant to shame, boasting a total of twelve gas burners, six separate ovens, two large dishwashers, two refrigerators, one large freezer, a wide assortment of first class copper pots and pans hanging above a grand workspace of an island. I was certain my mouth gaped open in astonishment. I stood there awkwardly as I struggled to form a response that matched my awe at the place.

  “Wow, Anne. This is amazing.”

  Anne laughed and pulled out one of the island’s barstools for me.

  “I’m glad you think so. It is nice, but I hate it with every fiber of my being. I am so glad you’re here to take over things. I’ve cooked for everyone most nights for the last six months, and not a single meal has turned out well. The most common reviews given to me by my friends are bland, burnt, and badly done.”

  I couldn’t resist a small laugh as she plopped down dramatically next to me. I imagined she was going to be a lot of fun to work for. At least she had a sense of humor.

  “Oh, you can’t be that bad.”

  Anne stood, marched over toward one of the refrigerators, and pulled something out before setting it in front of me.

  “Have you eaten breakfast? I saved you a plate so you could see what I mean. Give me a minute to heat it up.”

  I waited patiently. When she finally slid me a plate of seasoned potatoes, sliced sausage, and what looked like a spinach and cheese quiche, I suspected she’d grossly over-exaggerated her inabilities. Everything looked like it would taste great. As I lifted the first forkful into my mouth, I expected to taste something that was, at its worst, only decent.

  I was dreadfully wrong.

  I’d not tasted such terrible cuisine in a very long time. I tried to chew the mouthful politely, but by the second clench of my jaw, I couldn’t choke it down. Politely spitting it into my napkin, I stood and carried my plate over to the trashcan, sliding the contents inside before I turned to comfort the crestfallen Anne.

  “Well, that’s all right. You just haven’t acquired a knack for it yet. Why don’t I give you a quick lesson? You can help me get familiarized with the kitchen in the process.”

  Anne smiled and reached over to a set of hooks on the wall to grab us each an apron.

  “Sounds perfect. Teach me to cook one dish perfectly. Then, I’m turning it all over to you. By dinner, the kitchen will be officially yours.”

  CHAPTER 11

  My mother was a nervous woman. No matter the situation. She was just as nervous making her weekly trips to the grocery store as she would be meeting the Queen of England. She could make herself sick with worry over just about anything. She was stunning and looked wonderful in everything, but there were always at least half a dozen outfit changes before she ever left the house.

  I was the exact opposite. Nothing rattled me. I could make myself at home in just about any situation, and my natural confidence was so at odds with her personality that she would always joke that she must have brought the wrong baby home from the hospital.

  I didn’t care what people thought about me. I knew what I thought about myself and that was all I was concerned with. If someone didn’t like me—well—they were a fool.

  My younger sister worried much like my mother. I always thought the nerves just skipped me, but today I felt more like the both of them than I ever had before.

  Never had the thought of picking out an outfit caused me such anxiety. I stood there wrapped tightly in my favorite robe staring down at not six, not seven, but eight different outfits, and not a one of them seemed good enough.

  What did one wear to dinner in a castle? I didn’t expect it to be formal, but how casual was too casual? I hadn’t a clue.

  Eventually, I decided on a pair of skinny jeans that I could tuck into a pair of black boots that went nearly up to my knee. I paired them with a dressy red sweater and called it good.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I glanced up f
rom my efforts to put away all of the clothes I’d tossed around so carelessly to see that I’d unintentionally left my door cracked open. Before I could answer, it slowly swung open the rest of the way as an ornate cart entered the room. Stepping toward the doorway, I looked to see who was pushing it—a bright-eyed little boy with the friendliest smile and cutest freckles ever.

  “Well, hello there. You look a little young to be working. I sure hope this isn’t your job.”

  I smiled at him. The young boy didn’t miss a beat, laughing as he pushed the cart over to me and pouring me a cup of coffee.

  “Nah, I don’t work here. I’m just staying here with my family. I just wanted to come and say hi to you. You’ll be seeing a lot of me, I’m sure. I like to run all over the place. I thought you might be tired, too, since you traveled so far. Do you want some coffee? I’m sort of like the official coffee maker around here.”

  I grinned and nodded at him, moving to sit at a small table near where he stopped his cart.

  “Yes, please. I am tired. I took a little nap earlier, but it didn’t seem to do me a lot of good. I’m sure your coffee will help me immensely. May I ask you your name? I’m Sydney.”

  He handled the coffee pot and little basin of creamer so carefully, stirring it all together before dropping two cubes of sugar into the cup. He didn’t ask me how I liked it. I could tell from the precision of his pour and the familiarity of his movements that he probably made it the same way for everyone.

  “Oh, it will help. Especially this cup—Morna found the creamer. Usually, I just use the plain white stuff, but this one is supposed to taste like hazelnuts, I think. Hope that’s okay.”

  “I’m sure it will be perfect.”

  He extended the cup in my direction and spoke once again as I took hold of it.