Page 13 of Love Beyond Words
“Not that I believe any of this, but why? Why would Laurel need to go into the past?”
A small piece of Morna’s story entered my mind, and a nagging nervousness lodged itself in my stomach as I whispered the answer under my breath.
“She’s a matchmaker.”
Jerry spoke up from across the room.
“What’s that, love? I canna hear as well as I once could.”
I straightened in my seat as I looked directly into Morna’s eyes.
“You’re a matchmaker, right? If that’s what you’re trying to do with me, let me just bid you good day now. I’m so not even remotely interested.”
Marcus chuckled, and I had to press my palms into my legs to keep from shoving him off the couch.
“Why not? Lord knows you need a man in your life, Laurel. You might as well be a nun as empty as your love life is.”
Morna laughed and Jerry quickly joined in. I glared back at all of them.
“Doona worry, lass. ’Tis true that I’ve been known to make a few matches now and again, but ’tis not how I intend to help ye.”
I relaxed noticeably in my seat.
“Okay. Well, then why exactly do I need your help?”
She raised her brows as if I should already know the answer.
“How long has it been since ye’ve written?”
I knew the answer by heart.
“Thirteen months and sixteen days.”
“That is how I shall help ye, lass. I will send ye back for inspiration. So that ye may find the exact story ye were meant to tell.”
That appealed to me much more than I wanted her to know.
“And in what century does my inspiration lie and where in Scotland?”
“The year 1651 on The Isle of Eight Lairds.”
A familiar chill swept over me—the same I’d felt when glancing at the book that Mr. Crinkles pushed from my shelf.
“The book?”
“Aye, the book and the documentary, o’course. I intended for ye to see them both.” In response to my open mouth, she chuckled and continued. “Do ye really believe that coincidences are ever truly that? Let me assure ye, ’tis not the way this world works. People are so unwilling to see the tiny miracles, the tiny pieces of magic, that happen in their lives almost every day. ’Tis a shame really.”
I smiled as Kate sprung up in my mind.
“You sound like my sister.”
Standing, Morna motioned for us to do the same.
“Yer sister is wiser than most people give her credit for. Now, come. Let’s get a bite of food in the both of ye. I’ve much to explain and prepare ye for. Ye are due in the village on The Isle of Eight Lairds tomorrow at noon.”
“We?” Marcus sounded horrified. “I’m not going into the past.”
Laughing, Morna placed her hand gently on his back as she guided him out into the hallway.
