Emma’s heart constricted at that reality. “Oh, God.”
“But if you were to both stay, then you’d be married for life. If you both leave, well…I suppose that’s up to you, how to handle it. You’d have no proof that anything happened here.” Brianagh clasped Emma’s hands. “I’m so sorry this is being thrust upon you. But, if I were in your shoes—and trust me, I’ve been almost exactly where you are now—I would believe in Aidan. He wouldn’t play with your heart. He knows what I just told you, and my guess is that he’s protecting you in all possible ways.”
“How can you be so sure?” Emma asked. “Because I’ve been pretty confused since the moment I met him. One side seems so confident, and trustworthy. But there’s this other side. A darker side, one that he doesn’t let me see, but I can feel it’s there. It’s almost uncivilized.”
Bri squeezed her hands. “I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that’s his medieval warrior self sparring with his modern self—I would think they’d tend to be at odds more often than not.”
Sinead inserted herself between the two women, placed a tape around Emma’s chest, then grunted and gave a nod.
Emma raised an eyebrow. “This has to be the most insane day of my life.” She looked at the girls, who were furiously cutting long swaths of gold fabric, and Sinead, who was using a knife to outline a pattern in a large sheet of parchment.
Bri laughed. “I bet it is.”
“Do I have a choice?” Emma asked in a small voice.
“You’ll always have a choice. But there are consequences to each choice, and the one that’s most likely to ensure your safety is to marry Aidan.”
“Damn it.”
“Come on. Let’s get you ready for a wedding.”
• • •
Aidan stood next to the desk in Nioclas’s solar, his arms folded. “When you leave, will you have the ability to take Emma back with you?”
“Are you giving up on her?” Reilly asked in surprise. He tossed a dirk into the air and caught it, then repeated the action. “That’s unlike you.”
“She needs to understand her options.”
Reilly caught the dirk again and scratched his cheek with it thoughtfully. “I wonder why you care so much.”
Aidan wanted to smack Reilly’s forehead into the nearest hard surface. “I care because she will be my wife. But if she’s not willing to stay here, I need to tell her that she can return.”
Reilly shook his head in pity. “You poor sap. Of course she can come back with me. In fact, I believe she has to return with me.”
“What?” Nioclas broke in.
Aidan felt his chest constrict. “I thought you said you weren’t sure?”
“Once I take care of my business here, I’ve been given orders to return to the future.”
Aidan saw the seriousness in Reilly’s eyes, and he felt as though he’d been punched in the gut.
“So what you’re saying is that Aidan has to choose between Emma and his family?” Nioclas demanded.
“I’m not saying that at all. In fact, I don’t think the choice will be up to Aidan,” Reilly conceded.
“You think I’m supposed to be here,” Aidan concluded, a hollow feeling spreading through his chest.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been working toward for the better part of the last decade?” Reilly asked, seemingly indifferent.
Aidan didn’t respond, the enormity of it slamming into him. He blindly groped for the edge of the table.
“Fate isn’t always what we think it is,” Reilly said, sheathing the dirk in his boot. “I’ll leave the two of you to settle the marriage contract.”
Aidan sat down heavily, his mind reeling. Fate had handed him his soul mate, only to rip her away?
He didn’t want to believe it.
Nioclas gave him a concerned look. “I’ll return momentarily.”
Aidan nodded, still too shocked to speak. Was his place truly here, at his brother’s side? He had always believed that. His brother risked everything for him, everything for their clan. He avenged their mother—if not his own mother by blood, certainly of heart—and saved Aidan from following in the footsteps of an evil sire.
Aidan owed Nioclas everything. He’d sworn his loyalty, and he couldn’t break it. He’d already been gone too long. If he left again…he couldn’t put his brother through that. But could he let Emma go? Could he convince Reilly to keep her here? Would she want to stay here, with him?
His eyes fell on the tapestries that lined the wall behind Nick’s desk. Great battle scenes, in which a tall figure with long dark hair fearlessly rode a stallion into a battle. The men on foot, fierce expressions on their faces, were engaged in swordplay, arrows high above their heads in midflight.
On the opposite wall, the tapestry showed a different scene altogether. A woman sat in a chair by a blazing hearth, cradling a small child in her arms. Behind her, in an open doorway, stood the man with the long hair, home from battle. His attention was focused on his wife and child, and his bloodied sword hung above the door. Woven into the blood on the sword were the Latin words, Pro domo focoque pugnamus.
We fight for hearth and home.
The MacWilliam clan did not want to expand across Ireland; they were happy with their lot. They had everything they needed—fish from the sea, fertile fields bearing food, peat for their fires, and a strong clan pride. Expansion would mean some would have to give that up and settle in other parts of the land to keep a stronghold. It meant constant war, constant demand, constant giving without receiving.
That was not the legacy Nioclas wanted to leave for his children, nor his children’s children. He wanted—and had achieved—peace in a time of greed and war.
No, there was no way Aidan could leave his brother. He glanced at the tapestry behind the desk. If another clan declared war against them, it was Aidan who would protect Nioclas’s back during battle.
He knew marrying Emma was the best protection he could give her, for however long she was here. If Monaghan decided he wanted her, he could steal her away in the night and pay any number of priests to perform the marriage, fully against her will. She’d be locked up, too far from O’Malley to ever return to her time.
If she were married to him, the MacWilliams would fight to bring her home, if it came to that.
His gaze traveled back to the tapestry of the woman, his heart torn. Home.
He needed to be here to fight for his brother’s hearth and home. After all his brother had done for him, his own happiness was a small price to pay. He knew the truth of it in his mind…now, he needed only to convince his heart.
Nioclas reentered the room. “Are you sure you want this, Aidan?”
He nodded briskly, resolved. “I am. She needs the protection of the clan if she’s here for any length of time.”
“Is that all it is?” Nioclas questioned.
Aidan rubbed his hands over his face again. “Aye. It’s all it can be.”
“Then let’s draw up the marriage papers.”
• • •
What a difference four hours, a bath, an exceedingly determined head seamstress, six seamstresses, and Brianagh’s personal chambermaid could make.
Emma smoothed her hands down the fine gossamer silk, unable to stop touching the soft fabric. The square neckline of her long-sleeved, lightweight woolen gown was lined with a deep blue ribbon. Sinead used the blue ribbon around each upper arm, and she encircled Emma’s natural waist, separating the top and bottom of the dress. The gold gossamer silk overlaid the gold wool of the skirt, which had a slit up the front to allow a panel of dark blue silk to peek through. From the ribbon bands on her arms fell a swath of the same blue fabric in the skirt.
“This is stunning,” she murmured, humbled by the amount of speed and work Sinead put forth. “Go raibh maith agat,” she said to Sinead.
Sinead curtsied at the thanks, then hustled her girls out.
“So you do know some Gaelic,” Bri said, impressed.
“Not as much as I thought I did,” she admitted, “but I think I got ‘thank you’ right.”
“You did,” Bri assured her. She walked around Emma, a dreamy look on her face. “You look stunning.”
“Go raibh maith agat,” Emma said again with a quick curtsy. Her smile faded. “I feel sick when I think too much about what my life has become.”
Bri took her hand and patted it. “I wanted to go home when I got here, too.”
“What changed?” Emma asked.
“Love. My home is where Nioclas is. And his home, for better or worse, is here.”
“I don’t know if I love Aidan,” Emma blurted out. Liar. You’ve loved him for weeks.
“Do you think that, given time, you could love him?” Bri asked softly.
Someone knocked on the door and called out. Brianagh answered, and looked at Emma.
“Showtime.”
“I really think I might be sick,” Emma answered.
“No, you won’t,” Bri said firmly “You’ll be fine. Just trust that Aidan knows what he’s doing.”
Emma took a few deep breaths. Trust Aidan. Trust him. He knows what he’s doing.
She opened her eyes to find Bri watching her curiously. “You know, Emma, you don’t have to go through with this. But, I think you know that if you don’t, and something happens here…you won’t have a clan to call your own.”
“I get it. Where are we headed?”
“The chapel.” Bri opened the door. “Aidan!”
He stepped into the room, and Emma’s breath caught. He looked resplendent, fresh from his own bath, in a clean léine.
“I need a moment alone with Lady Emma,” he said in a low voice. “We will meet you at the chapel.”
Bri waited for Emma to nod her assent before exiting the chamber.
Aidan smiled at Emma. “You look beautiful.”
She flushed. “Thanks. You look pretty amazing yourself.”
“Em, I know you think you’re being forced into this. I get that you’re between a rock and a hard place. By marrying me, you will have the protection of the clan, no matter what happens to me.”
“Are you planning to go somewhere without me?” she joked.
Serious green eyes regarded her steadily. “Nay. But you’ll be able to go somewhere—or rather, somewhen—without me.” He took a step away from her, closer to the door. “Reilly says he can take you home. To the future.”
“You wouldn’t come with me?” Emma asked, her heart dropping.
Aidan shook his head. “My life is here. I’m not sure when you could return, but if we marry, you’ll have protection for as long as you’re here.”
Emma felt the icy tendrils of dread spiral in her stomach. “So this will be a marriage of convenience only?”
He nodded briskly, all business. “Aye. There’s no need to worry that I’ll force anything upon you.”
Emma felt the blow to her heart, and could almost hear it as it fully shattered.
She felt the prick of tears, but somehow pushed them back. “Of course. Thanks for reassuring me, Aidan. I feel much better now. If I were to disappear, would that leave you free to marry for love later?”
“Aye, I suppose. But I’m not the loving type, so it’s a moot point.”
“Okay, then,” she said, waving toward the door. “Maybe we should, uh, get this thing done?”
“After you,” he said, once again all charm and affability, as he opened the door and gave a swift nod to the guardsmen standing at the ready. He extended his arm, and she took it, her insides hollow and her heart in pieces.
Chapter 19
As the priest droned in Latin, Aidan stood at the head of the chapel, wondering if he had made a strategic error.
He thought he could make her fall in love with him.
Her face, though she tried to shield it, showed otherwise. She would choose the future; he knew it.
He tried to catch her eye, but she was having none of it. She steadfastly watched the priest and kept her hands folded tightly in front of her.
Damn. He was in serious trouble.
The priest cleared his throat, then gave Aidan a pointed look.
“Oh. Aye,” Aidan said quickly.
The priest turned to Emma, who gave a soft “Aye,” then he blessed them. A moment later they were announced as man and wife, and Aidan gave Emma a chaste kiss on her lips.
Which were ice cold.
Afterward, they faced the people in the chapel, and Laird Monaghan appeared pleased. Shane and Brigit were giving each other heated looks.
At least one thing was going according to plan, Aidan thought wryly.
Aidan and Emma led them out of the chapel toward the great hall, where the wedding feast waited.
“Are you all right, Emma?” he heard Bri whisper as they strolled across the courtyard. The chapel began to empty, and clansmen began cheering.
“Later,” Emma whispered back, then pasted on a false smile.
Reilly joined them at the raised dais and clapped a hand on Aidan’s back. He said, in Gaelic so that Emma would not understand, “Why does she look so miserable?”
Aidan glanced at Emma, who was in deep discussion with Brianagh. “I informed her before the ceremony that this marriage is in name only, and that she was free of it once she returned to the future.”
Nick smacked him on the head. Clansmen cheered, but Aidan glared at him.
“You are a horse’s arse,” Nioclas said succinctly.
“My exact sentiments,” Reilly agreed.
“Why?” Aidan demanded. “I ensured the lass has a life when she leaves here. One without a long-dead husband.”
Reilly grabbed a fresh roll from a tray as a kitchen maid passed by. “Och, you are the biggest kind of dolt.”
“There is truth in his words,” Nioclas agreed.
“Look at her,” Reilly demanded. “Does she look like a lass who’s relieved? Or one who’s had her heart broken?”
Aidan rolled his eyes, but he felt his stomach churn. “Lay off, O’Malley.”
“Did you ask her if she would be willing to stay here with you?” Nioclas asked.
“I didn’t have to,” Aidan admitted grimly. “It was written all over her face.”
“I see naught but confusion and perhaps a goodly amount of sadness,” Nioclas replied in a low voice. “Perhaps you should ask her directly.”
“There’s no need. I know what she’s thinking, brother. She wants to return to her time.”
Nioclas sighed heavily. “Good luck to you, brother. Though it seems you have more work to do than time available in which to fix it.”
Aidan met Emma’s sad eyes and realized that his brother had it right. He didn’t know how much longer Emma had in his time, but he needed to fix things between them, starting immediately.
• • •
As Brianagh reassuringly patted her hand and Aidan served her the best bits from the trencher in front of them, Emma thought she might be sick.
She was a fool, and it hurt.
She must’ve misunderstood Aidan’s intentions. He probably just wanted her to know that he liked her enough to give her the protection of his name. He never declared love, or any sort of feeling, really. Sure, his kisses left her breathless and dizzy, full of wonderful feelings, but who knew if he felt the same? Maybe when he kissed her, it was the same for him as when he kissed a different woman. Maybe he kissed different women all the time.
Maybe she really and truly couldn’t read men.
She was so weak. Emma had allowed Bri’s words to open her heart, and now she was paying the price. She mentally kicked herself. She should’ve walked away from Aidan back in New York. She could’ve paid off Ben, given enough time. She would’ve figured out how to escape him, somehow.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. The three words she had vowed, the day Ben went to jail, to never say again.
“Perhaps we might have speech after we dine?” Aidan murmured. He refilled her wine cup. “I f
ear I may have misled you.”
Emma ground her jaw to avoid replying in haste. She managed a nod. Misled her? That was an understatement. But he had clarified his intentions mere hours earlier. She had no idea why he wanted to rehash that conversation, but if she could survive a marriage ceremony, she could survive another round of business talk with her husband.
Emma needed a quick distraction to avoid tears, so she focused on Brianagh. “I was thinking about the publicity plan for Celtic Connections. I love what you’ve done here with the ball and tournament…maybe we can incorporate a modern version of those in the company, and tie it back to these roots?”
“Oh, that’s brilliant! A ball would be easy enough. But the tournament…let’s see.”
As Bri excitedly brainstormed, Emma tried to focus on her future. Maybe Reilly could bring her back immediately, so that she could do business with the man currently sitting next to her, holding the broken pieces of her heart in his rough, strong hands.
• • •
Aidan closed the chamber door and slid the bolt home. He paused a moment, hoping that he could right his wrongs, then walked toward Emma.
She stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself as the breeze teased the golden tendrils of hair that escaped her pins. She gazed to the ocean, the moonlight reflecting clearly on the deep waters. The sounds of their boisterous, happy clan drifted through the window as the main castle door opened, then closed.
He started to speak, but she beat him to it.
“It’s a beautiful land, isn’t it?” Her voice was wistful, far away. “These people…they celebrate life unlike anything I’ve ever seen. With all of the wars and famines, it’s easy to see why they live openly and joyously.” She rubbed her arms, the silk that covered them rustling. “There’s a simple beauty in it, but there’s such hardness as well. I’m grateful I’m not experiencing the terrible side of the Middle Ages.”
He remained silent, unsure as to how to respond.
Emma returned her eyes to the sea. “You once told me that if I were to cast my wish into the ocean, it would remain safe until my soul mate could return it. Do you still believe that to be true?”
An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two Page 23
