Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy Series) (8 page)

I stared back at my reflection, unable to recall a time when I felt more radiant. The blue in the dress made my blue eyes sparkle, and the cut of the dress fit perfectly. “Thank you, Mary. I love it.”

“I’m pleased to hear it, miss. Ye seem to be a smidge more accepting of the wedding than Blaire, so I’m glad ye’re here. I can only hope Blaire is fairing well in . . . wherever ye came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh. I need to stop speaking of it. I already told ye, I canna explain it to ye today. I’ll be speaking to ye in a few days, after the laird and ye have had some time alone together.”

“I see.” I didn’t see at all, but I decided to let it go. Whatever it was couldn’t be that important. This was all just a dream.

“Now.” Mary gently pushed me toward the door. “It’s time for yer wedding.”

I smiled excitedly and followed Mary out the door, hoping that I wouldn’t wake up before I got a chance to see my future husband and discover why I needed to change my name to someone else’s to marry the man I’d dreamed up.

Chapter 10

Present Day

Adelle Montgomery screamed and reached behind her, grabbing for any sturdy surface to remind her of reality as the contents of the room swirled around her daughter, one minute picking her up into the chaos, the next minute sweeping her away into nothing. Her legs shook, and her ears ached at the sound of her own terrified screams. She reached up and smacked herself hard across the cheek, trying to wake herself from the twisted nightmare. When nothing changed, she forced her eyes to close and shook her head violently, hoping that the motion would clear the insanity from her head.

When she gathered the courage to open her eyes, she instantly relaxed against the back wall and breathed in deep, savoring the dusty, wet smell that filled her lungs. Bri was there, safe, and just where she’d been moments ago. It was her own head she was worried about. She’d make an appointment with a doctor as soon as she got home.

“Bri. Did I pass out? Fall and hit my head coming through the doorway? I was so sure . . .” She trailed off as she took in the horrified look on her daughter’s face. Pins prickled down her back as her eyes took in the floor-length gown covering her daughter’s body. “What? What’s going on, Bri? I . . . I’m not feeling very well.”

Adelle watched as her daughter’s head quickly turned, scanning back and forth across the room.

“Where am I? And my name is no Bri? Who do ye think ye are?”

“Bri. What do you think you’re doing? Seriously. Your accent is remarkable, but where did you get that dress? Is this some sort of weird joke I’m not getting? Do you think that lasagna was bad?” Adelle pushed herself off the wall and moved over to her daughter, grabbing the skirt of her dress to examine the gown more closely. “It’s really remarkable actually. It doesn’t look like a costume, but it’s not an antique either. I think it’s time you filled me in, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Why would ye address a stranger so? And why do ye keep calling me ‘Bri’? My name is Blaire, and I doona understand why ye seem so fascinated with my dress. Have ye seen what ye are wearing? Do ye work for Mary? Did she send ye down here to get me?”

Adelle reached up to grab her forehead, her frustration growing at her lack of understanding. “Bri, what the hell are you talking about? It’s really not funny. I seriously think I’ve lost my mind. We need to go back to the inn, maybe drive back to Edinburgh and check me into the hospital. Quit talking like that and let’s go. Grab your real clothes on the way.” She reached out to grab Bri by the arm, but the hold was broken as her daughter quickly jerked out of her grasp.

“Please, do not lay yer hands on me. I’ll no marry Eoin. Ye’ll have to send me back home.”

“Bri.” She reached out to grab her daughter once more. “We still have twelve days before we go back home. Surely you’re not ready to go back to Texas?”

“Texas?” The woman’s brows came together so quickly they almost bumped in between her eyes.

“Yes, Bri. Texas. Where you live and teach. I think we both need to have our heads examined. Maybe we breathed in some sort of hallucinogenic drug when we opened that doorway.”

“I’m unfamiliar with this ‘Texas’ that ye speak of, miss. I live in the MacChristy keep, with my father, Donal. It’s a three-day journey from here.”

Adelle stopped trying to pull at her daughter’s arm and turned to face her straight on. She
had
to be Bri. There was absolutely no question this was her daughter. But the accent? And the clothes? And she knew she’d tried to teach Bri some about the castle’s history, but she found herself surprised that Bri was able to remember such names. Adelle stood there unmoving, trying to think of some sure way to confirm she was looking at her daughter, and that they were both on the receiving end of some powerful mind-altering drug. Whatever was going on, something was very wrong.

A sudden itch in her lower back caused her to jerk her arm around and scratch, and instantly she knew what she needed to look for.

Instinctively she crouched down low and began to lift up the young woman’s dress, digging her way through the layers of fabric until she grabbed the bottom layer. The girl squirmed and protested, but Adelle kept her grip and, giving a hard tug, spun Bri around so that her back was facing her and she could lift the dress above her bottom.

“What do ye think ye are doing? Let go of me. I can undress myself if ye insist that I change my clothes.”

“Just hold still. I need to check something.” She hiked the bottom of the dress up until the skin of her lower back was clearly visible. “Sweet Mary, Moses, and Joseph! You don’t have the tattoo. You’re not Bri, are you?”

The girl stepped away so that the fabric fell loose from Adelle’s grip and in frustration faced her. “That’s what I’ve been tryin to tell ye, no? No, I’m not this Bri. And what is a ‘tatoo’?”

“It’s this.” Adelle turned halfway and hiked up the back of her own shirt where the words
we shall never part
were delicately tattooed across her lower back. “Bri has one as well. We got them shortly after her eighteenth birthday.”

Adelle watched as the stranger, whose face was so much like her daughter’s, slowly turned ashen, obviously remembering something she hadn’t thought of before.

“What’s yer name, miss?”

“Adelle Montgomery. I’m an archaeologist working on the ruins of Conall Castle. What did you say your name was, since although I have no idea what the hell is going on, I know that you aren’t Bri?”

“Ye may call me Blaire. The ruins of Conall Castle? What year is this?”

“What year is it? You really don’t know the answer to that? Why, it’s 2013.”

Blaire slowly backed away until she steadied herself against the wall behind her. “I canna believe it. I knew they’d said she’d been a witch, but I’d never believed it was true. She left the portrait. It was her words I read.”

At Blaire’s mention of a witch, an inkling of her prior research on the Conalls nudged at the edge of her brain, but it stayed just out of reach as fear coursed through her.

“Slow down, sugar. I think it would be best if we made our way outside. Get some fresh air, maybe? I think we both need to figure out what’s going on.”

Color filled Blaire’s face as the pitch of her voice rose. “I already know. It was the Conalls’ aunt, Morna. She was a witch, and I stumbled upon her spell room by chance. I found it just moments ago, although I dinna understand what I was seeing. I read the words on the plaque, and then I ended up in front of ye.”

“Okay.” Adelle nodded obligingly. It was best to agree if she wanted the woman to help her find Bri, until she could remember what she needed so desperately to recall. “Well, why don’t you tell me about where you were before you ended up here?”

“I was in this same room. But it was different, ye see? I was supposed to marry the laird of Conall Castle, Eoin, and I fled down here. I could no marry him. I’d only just been wishing I could disappear when I saw the portrait and sounded out the words.”

Adelle’s eyes widened, disbelieving but fascinated. “Eoin. As in Eoin Conall, son of Alasdair Conall? Laird after his father died in 1645, for only a few short months until the infamous massacre?” The research came back to her in snippets. Her mind started to grasp the facts one-by-one as they presented themselves.

Blaire’s face drained of color once again, “massacre?”

“Yes. The entire Conall clan was murdered in late December of 1645. As to why, or who was responsible, no one has ever been able to find out. That’s why my daughter and I were here actually. We were searching for documents or evidence that could help solve the mystery.”

“That’s why she did it, doona ye see?” Blaire moved forward suddenly, grabbing Adelle’s arms and shaking them.

“Who? Did what?”

“Morna. Alasdair and father told stories growing up about her. She could see things that were yet to happen. She must’ve known I would stumble into her spell room. She did her best to save them before her death. I’m meant to stop it, and ye can help me.”

Something clicked in Adelle’s brain, and the icy pinpricks rushed down her spine once more. “Are you telling me that this is for real? The old legend about the witch was true? You expect me to believe that you really came here from 1645?”

“Aye. I expect that’s where yer daughter is now. Ye said that we look alike, did ye not? And where else do ye expect she’d be? We’ve switched places, we have. Did she read the words below the portrait as well?”

“Holy mother of Freddie! You’re right. She did. Oh, my God! We have to get Bri back before the massacre . . .” Adelle’s stomach turned over as the same icy grasp that had made its way down her spine gripped her around the middle; she wanted nothing more than to jump through whatever invisible void had taken her daughter and be there by her side.

Her logical brain had no advice on what steps she should make next, but she knew she’d be damned before she left her daughter to die as she knew the Conalls would in just a few short months. Adrenaline kicked in, pushing away all doubt and logic, replacing it with an eerily calm sense of determination. “Blaire. I know you are probably as scared as Bri is—
wherever
she is—but we have to help each other if we’re going to get you two back where you belong. Let’s go to the car and get the boxes and dollies. We need to gather up every book and piece of parchment in this place, and then get you back to the inn while Jerry and Gwendolyn are gone and get you changed into some of Bri’s clothes.”

Adelle turned, not waiting for a response, and only briefly registering Blaire’s question as she made her way out of the basement room.

“Aye, but might I ask ye a question? What is a ‘car’?”

Chapter 11

Scotland—1645

Eoin stood at the edge of the rocky hillside that overlooked the ocean at the backside of the castle, waiting for his future bride. He scanned the crowd of townspeople all dressed in their finest, excitedly waiting for the wedding to begin.

He would gladly trade places with any one of them.

Any moment Blaire would arrive at the end of the aisle, dread simmering in her eyes as she glared up at him during her long march.

He would take her hand in marriage as his father bid, but he would live each day guilt-ridden for being the source of such great unhappiness for any lass, even one as miserable as Blaire.

He glanced toward his brother, who stood on his left-hand side. Arran looked as if he were having a hard time standing. His face was flushed and his eyes were bloodshot.

He’d been drinking again.

It hadn’t escaped Eoin’s attention that Arran hadn’t stopped drinking since their return to the castle. What was bothering him? Had Arran taken their father’s death harder than he’d realized? Whatever it was, he vowed that he would talk to his brother as soon as this wedding was behind them.

A sharp intake of breath from Arran caused Eoin to jerk his head in the direction of Arran’s stare.

His heart hammered wildly inside his chest, and his breath lodged in his throat as he locked eyes with Blaire.

Standing at the end of the aisle, she was beaming back at him with a smile so wide and bright he couldn’t help but smile in return. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen from her, and it made him uneasy.

Has the lass been drinking also? She looks pleased
. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had been. But no, the lass was too certain in her steps to be drunk, and her eyes shimmered with clarity as she neared him.

He stepped forward to take her hands in his as the ceremony began.

* * *

The entire ceremony had been a blur. I sat next to my new husband, watching the hordes of merry villagers dancing around the grassy expanse behind the castle. I knew I was dreaming; there was simply no other explanation for the whirlwind of confusion that had been the last two hours of my life.

The swirls of color and boisterous laughter—combined with music that I was vastly impressed with myself for dreaming up—had my head spinning yet again. I tried to stop the pounding in my temples by thinking back on what I could remember.

Meeting Mary; having not one, but two full-blown panic attacks; being tossed into a tub and dressed up like a Thanksgiving turkey; walking down the backside of the castle; laying eyes on the hunk now sitting beside me; walking up the aisle, grinning like an idiot. It seemed to me that I could recall everything that had happened since I woke up inside my coma. That is, until I had reached the end of the aisle. At that point, Coma Husband had taken it upon himself to grab my hands, and my brain short-circuited.

No surprise, really. My brain was obviously working overtime just to dream up Laird Eoin, not to mention that it was trying to heal itself out of a coma.

After he had taken my hands in his own, I could recall only two other things about the ceremony.

The first was his eyes. I had been immediately hypnotized by them. They reminded me of a black stone that used to sit in a bowl at my grandmother’s house. When I was younger, I loved to hold it up to the light and examine all the different flecks of brown and gold that danced between the swirls of darkness. His eyes were like that stone. I wanted to examine every speckle of color that had stared back at me throughout the ceremony.