An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two (24 page)

“Like what?”

“A rival clan could kidnap the bride-to-be and demand ransom,” Bri said, “or the husband-to-be dies in an accident and the bride is left without full clanship rights. It can get messy, so we don’t wait.”

Emma held her remaining questions. She followed Bri down the stairs, where they waited to be announced. Bri clasped her elbow and they walked arm in arm out of the stairwell, into the great hall, which was about half-filled.

“Tonight, you’ll sit with us as a guest of honor,” Bri murmured as they made their way to the raised dais. “I’ll sit to your right, and Aidan to your left.”

A large, slightly overweight man with missing teeth, dressed in a dazzling shade of green, intercepted them before they were halfway across the large room. He said something to Brianagh, giving her a low bow. He continued on, shooting looks of interest to Emma. As he spoke, small drops of spittle flew from his mouth, catching in his silver-and-black beard. They shone in a highly distracting manner; Emma kept sneaking glances at them as he conversed with Bri. She noticed the bits of food clinging to the beard as well. She suppressed a shiver of repulsion as he bowed to her, wafting his own special brand of body fragrance in her direction.

She choked, and Brianagh helpfully clapped her on the back, smiling and saying something that sounded explanatory in Gaelic.

She turned to Emma and, in perfect Middle English, said, “Lady Emma, may I present Laird Monaghan, of the illustrious Monaghan clan in the east of our fair isle.”

“A pleasure, my lady. You are the epitome of English beauty. I would be so honored for a dance tonight,” Monaghan said in Middle English, the words choppy.

Emma gave a false smile. “Um, that’s, um…”

Brianagh spoke in Gaelic again, and the man grinned. He bowed once more—Emma held her breath this time—and stepped back, so they could continue toward the front of the room.

“I told him you would be likewise honored, and explained that you were a lady of few words who spoke a language we’re not all that familiar with,” Bri said grimly. “Monaghan’s interest in you is not going to sit well with Aidan.”

“Why not? We’re not together,” Emma insisted.

“After tonight, I think you might wish to be,” Bri warned as another, much older man rounded one of the tables to stop them. Bri made the introductions, the man asked for a dance with the Lady Emma, and Bri granted it.

“Can’t you just tell them I don’t dance or something?” Emma hissed as yet another man gave a bow.

“Negative,” Bri responded through her teeth as she bestowed a smile upon the man before herding Emma onward. “That was a powerful ally. Nioclas would insist upon that even if you were
married
to Aidan. Damn, he is going to be so mad at me.”

Emma felt a fleeting sense of panic. “I’m sure it will be fine. They’re both older men, old enough to be my father, really.”

“Not this one,” Bri said under her breath. A man about Emma’s age, dressed in the same blazing shade of green Laird Monaghan wore, bent gracefully at the waist. When he stood at full height, he was nearly as tall as Aidan, and he smiled kindly down at Emma, his brown eyes soft. His face, classically beautiful, rivaled any Hollywood movie star, and his manner was relaxed, fully confident. He spoke in fluent Middle English, and Emma had no issues understanding him.

Unfortunately.

“Lady Emma, allow me to introduce you to Shane Monaghan, who resides to the east.” Brianagh gave a swift curtsy, and Emma hastily followed.

“My dear Lady Emma, your beauty and rumored wit have captured my attentions. I know you’ve so promised a dance with my father, but he and I have discussed it at length, and he insisted that I also dance with you, so as to see if we may make a life together.”

Emma’s jaw dropped in surprise.
At length? He was here maybe three minutes ago!

He continued, “As the generous lady of the castle has most likely explained, I am here to find a wife, so I can begin fully living as a man ought, with something to live and die for.”

Well, at least he was honest about his intentions
.

“Sorry, Monaghan, but this lady is unavailable,” a familiar voice, undercut with steel, said cheerfully.

The younger Monaghan frowned. “Are we acquainted?”

Aidan said something in Gaelic, and the man’s entire countenance changed in an instant. He gave a cordial bow to Brianagh, then kissed Emma’s hand.

Shane glanced up at Aidan, gave a smile that Emma could only classify as competitive, and said something back in Gaelic before he headed back to where his father stood and began to talk in earnest.

“Aidan!” Brianagh exclaimed, worried. She glanced nervously at Emma. “You better explain what you just did to her!”

Emma looked at him questioningly, but all he said was, “I saved you from a night of fools.”

“I don’t know whether to thank you or not,” Emma replied. “I mean, I would love to dance, absolutely. But those men looked at me like…”

“A cup of water after a long drought?” Bri supplied helpfully.

Emma kept a placid expression on her face, aware that Shane Monaghan was staring at her again, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Yes. I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

“Well, most people from your land haven’t,” Aidan pointed out. She rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go find Nioclas,” Brianagh said, worry in her tone. She glared at Aidan. “I don’t know if he can fix what you’ve done.” She dragged Emma away, and Aidan turned to clasp hands with someone, not bothering to say goodbye. He winked at Emma.

“He told Monaghan you’re handfasted to him,” Bri almost growled. “Unbelievable. That’s like dangling a piece of fresh meat in front of a starved dog.”

“Did you just call me fresh meat?” Emma wondered aloud.

“Sorry. But the metaphor fits. Shane is a very competitive man. Aidan’s just thrown down the gauntlet in the ultimate game of Win the Fair Maiden
.
”

“What did Shane say back?”

Brianagh’s mouth settled into a grim line. “The same sentiment as: To the victor go the spoils.”

They reached Nioclas, who was chatting with yet another man dressed in different colors, and Emma realized that the different colors must symbolize the different clans. That explained why her dress matched Brianagh’s, as well as Nioclas and Aidan’s léines.

She was dressed in MacWilliam colors.

Brianagh said something, but Nioclas gave a shake of his head and turned back to the man. Brianagh’s arm tightened around Emma’s, and she dragged her off in another direction.

“The kitchens,” Brianagh said through clenched teeth. “We need to regroup.”

Emma didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, but she did understand she needed to move faster to keep her arm attached to her body. They exited the castle and headed into a small outbuilding.

The kitchen was bustling, but all the women stopped to curtsy as they entered. Bri led Emma to a small round table in the corner of the kitchen, and they sat. “This is a disaster. I can’t believe he would do this.”

“I think he was trying to save me from suitors,” Emma interjected, feeling the need to defend Aidan’s actions.

“I think you understand the term
pissing contest
,” Bri replied, her eyes narrowing to slits. “I won’t allow Aidan to ruin this match.”

“Should I return to my chamber?” Emma asked, wishing she were anywhere else. She didn’t want to mess up a medieval matchmaking soiree, especially as she understood what it felt like to be the second-best woman in a man’s life.

She couldn’t do that to another person.

“No. If you go there, he’ll seek you out.”

“Aidan?”

“No. Monaghan.”

Emma shook her head. “He just met me. Make him select from his list.”

Brianagh slammed her hands on the table in frustration, then sighed heavily. “He will want what isn’t his. I seated him with Brigit of the Muskerry clan, his first choice. But you watch. He’ll give his attentions to you tonight, offer you his first dance—which you’ve already accepted by way of his father—and declare a meeting in the lists tomorrow to show his future bride what he has to offer. He’ll give his favor to you, and Brigit won’t accept him after that. And I, for one, wouldn’t blame the poor girl!”

Emma chewed her lip. “There’s got to be another way to save this match. Especially as I’m not staying.”

Nioclas poked his head in the door. “Ah, there you are. Shane just asked me for use of the lists tomorrow. He said he’s excited to announce his choice once he’s shown his warrior prowess.”

Brianagh dropped her head onto the table in despair.

Emma explained the situation, and Nioclas’s face darkened. “My brother is the biggest kind of arse,” he growled. “Apologies, Lady Emma. What he’s set you up for is either a kidnapping or a marriage.”

Emma stood, knocking her stool out from under her knees. “You know that’s impossible. I’m not staying here.”

Nioclas gave her a steady look. “I wonder how you plan to return, my lady.”

She paused. “Reilly?”

“Perhaps,” Nioclas said slowly.

Emma tried to ignore the uncertainty in his voice.

• • •

“Lady Brianagh informs me that we’re handfasted,” Emma said carefully as Aidan placed a piece of bread on their shared trencher.

“Don’t worry. We won’t
actually
marry.”

Her heart twisted at his words.
Why not?
she found herself thinking.
Am I so unlovable, then?
Instead, she took a large gulp of her wine before adding, “Right. Of course not.”

His mouth settled into a grim line, and she wondered at his moodiness.

“Your brother informs me that I’m now at risk of kidnapping. From Shane.”

He raised an eyebrow as he placed more food on the trencher. “Shane? You’re on a first-name basis with the man now?”

“He introduced himself as such, so I suppose we are.”

He shrugged. “He won’t kidnap you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not worth the risk. Besides, guards sleep outside your door. You’re safe enough.”

Not worth the risk.

As irrational as it was, the words stung. She blinked back an unwelcome prick of tears.

“Aidan,” Nioclas admonished him, surprised at his harsh words. “Lady Emma, pay him no heed. I’ve doubled your guards for the duration of your stay, so you are quite safe.”

“Thank you, my laird.”

Bri gave Emma a sympathetic glance, and Emma looked away. Aidan was in a fine temper for some reason, and though he’d made her no promises, he had kissed her a time or two as though he meant it. She should’ve known not to look into it too deeply. He was being kind. They’d been through a lot together, but now that she was out of danger (by a few hundred years), he had lost interest. He was the white knight who rescued maidens in distress, and she wasn’t in distress anymore.

She wasn’t surprised by his determination to steer clear of a real relationship with her. She wasn’t real relationship material.

“Well, handfasted or not, your first dance of the evening is with the young Monaghan,” Bri declared.

“Like hell it is,” Aidan snapped.

Emma felt her own patience break. “As you
just
stated, we’re not really getting married. So it shouldn’t matter to you who I dance with.”

He refused to make eye contact with her. “Fine. Do as you want. I don’t care. I’m just trying to save Bri’s party.”

“Don’t bring me into it,” Bri objected. “You’re the one who issued the challenge to Monaghan.”

Emma straightened. “Right. About that. I refuse to be in the middle of some testosterone-fueled brouhaha.”

“Brouhaha?” Reilly asked, interested.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “
Yes
, brouhaha.” She turned her attention back to Aidan. “Let’s take a moment to remember that I am not your wife, or your handfasted…whatever—”

“Betrothed,” Reilly supplied.

“Handfasted betrothed,” Emma continued, “or someone to toy with, so I suggest you cut the BS immediately. I don’t want to add
kidnapped
to my stupidly long list of bad things that almost happen to me.”

Reilly leaned over his plate so he could see her around Aidan’s silent form. “Your appearance here has caused quite a stir, my lady. You’re quite beautiful, and many men have made their interest known to Laird MacWilliam. Perhaps you should speak with him about your recourse. Most of the men here would find you more than worth the risk.”

“Shut it, O’Malley,” Aidan growled.

“It pains you that I speak the truth.” Reilly wagged his eyebrows at Emma. “But that cannot be what keeps me silent. If given the choice, Lady Emma, would you stay here with MacWilliam with his boorish self, or return to your homeland, with its challenges?”

Emma froze.
Given the choice? He’s really not going back?

Aidan refused to look at her.

“So you’d stay here?” she questioned.

“I haven’t a choice,” he replied curtly.

She blinked. “Oh.” She looked at Reilly. “He doesn’t have a choice?”

Reilly shrugged, then returned his attention to his trencher.

“She’s going back,” Aidan said abruptly.

“That’s up to Lady Emma,” Reilly replied without inflection.

A vein in Aidan’s neck began to throb. It seemed as though whatever temporary truce the two men had was suddenly null and void.

“We will have private speech later,” Aidan replied angrily to Reilly. To Emma, he growled, “You’re going back.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” she replied hotly. To Reilly, she added, “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Maybe not, but you agreed to everything else,” Aidan spat, angry now. “Every last decision. You signed the contract, you got in the car, you got on the plane.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “If you want to circle back to the source of all those decisions, perhaps we ought to start at the beginning.”

“When the pictures of your client and your ex went viral?” he asked sardonically, tearing a hunk of bread from the loaf in front of them.

Emma stopped cold.

“Low blow,” Reilly murmured, then held silent.

“I was referring to your insistence that I work for you. Fool that I am, of
course
it started with the pictures,” she replied coldly, past her very dry throat.