An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two (21 page)

“I thought we were headed to your home?”

“Aye. ’Tis one and the same.”

Emma hoped his version of a castle and her version of a castle were the same thing, because their realities didn’t seem to be aligning very well lately.

• • •

The sun was just peeking its head over the hills when Emma awoke.

“Good morning.”

“How long was I asleep?” She grabbed at the horse’s mane when Aidan suddenly slowed the beast.

He chuckled. “About an hour or two. I’m glad you’re awake now, though. Look west. Opposite the sunrise.”

In the predawn light, hills in varying shades of green cascaded endlessly around them; low stone walls much like the ones in Reilly’s garden dotted the landscape. Cattle grazed lazily, swishing their tails, unaffected by the small party making their way to the top of a rolling hill.

“It’s lovely,” she breathed.

“Keep your eyes trained west,” Aidan murmured. “Any minute now…”

They crested a small hill, and suddenly, she saw it. A large castle rose up from the ground, majestic and dark. Behind it, the sea sparkled, catching the first rays of light on its waves. And, situated between the imposing castle and the ocean, a village of whitewashed, thatched-roof cottages sat proudly, small tendrils of smoke curling from their chimneys.

She took it all in, the beauty overwhelming her.

Cian sniffed, and she saw the tears in his eyes.

“I never thought we’d get home,” Cian said softly. He looked to Reilly. “My eternal gratitude to you.”

Reilly nodded his head, his horse prancing under him as though he, too, was anxious to get to that lovely spot.

“Welcome to the MacWilliam stronghold,” Aidan said, pride and relief evident on his face. “Damn, but it’s good to be back!”

“There’s a moat,” Emma exclaimed suddenly, pointing to the castle. “And is that a barbican in front of it?”

“It is,” Aidan replied, digging his heels into the horse. “The guards will halt us there before lowering the first drawbridge. Once we’re through, we’ll proceed straight on to the second, larger drawbridge, into the lower bailey. If my brother is home, I expect he’ll meet us there.”

Emma stared up at him in amazement. “Wow.”

“I take it you no longer believe me a sad head case?”

“How did you know?” she exclaimed. She coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, no, I never thought that. The castle doesn’t prove anything. Remember, you took me to Bunratty Castle, where they have the entire place set up as though it was the nineteenth century.”

His eyes darkened, and he swiftly pressed an open kiss against her lips. “This isn’t a reconstruction. This is the real thing. Medieval Ireland at its best, to be sure. You don’t have to believe me. But you will, Emma. You most certainly will.”

• • •

“Halt!”

Aidan pulled back the reins of the horse, grateful it was so responsive to the direction. Reilly had a knack for selecting horseflesh—how he’d managed to lead three well-groomed horses out of a stable and into the forest without getting caught was a lesson Aidan would love to learn.

To the guard high atop the barbican wall, Aidan raised both hands in a gesture of peace. The man nodded, his helmet catching the sun, and a few moments later, two riders came over the drawbridge. Aidan sat tall, waiting for them to arrive, and refused to allow even a hint of his nerves to show.

“What’s happening now?” Emma whispered.

“They’ll determine if we belong in the great hall or the dungeon.”

“Dungeon?” she squeaked.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm, then addressed the men as they slowed their horses to a stop.

“I’m here for Laird MacWilliam.” He spoke in Gaelic.

“State your purpose.”

Aidan grinned. “Does his only brother ever need a reason to visit?”

The senior-ranking man brought his horse alongside theirs, his eyes widening.

“Hello, Kane. Did you ever manage to marry Keela?”

Kane let out a great whoop and reached over to embrace Aidan in a manly hug. Emma ducked out of the way just in time. She almost lost her balance, but Kane righted her with a “Pardon, my lady.”

“I’ve brought Cian along as well,” Aidan said, jerking his head toward the man who was struggling to hold his emotions in check.

“Cian MacWilliam,” Kane said with an uninhibited grin. “You wily bastard. We thought the two of you dead and buried! The laird will be very pleased to see you again.”

“Do you travel with this man?” the other guard asked Aidan, referring to Reilly.

“Aye. Best to tell Lady Brianagh her cousin has arrived from the mainland,” Aidan said. He paused. “The lady is in residence?”

Both guards nodded, and Aidan felt a rush of relief. “Excellent.”

“Go ahead and announce their arrival,” Kane ordered, and the other guard galloped back to the barbican. “Follow me. We’ve a new process to follow, what with the attempts on the castle of late.”

“What kinds of attempts?” Cian asked.

“An individual trying to breach castle walls,” Kane replied. He guided them back toward the drawbridge. “We’ve caught him twice, and both times he escaped the dungeons, though we don’t know how. Nothing to be concerned about.”

In Emma’s ear, Aidan murmured, “That’s medieval Irish Gaelic. In case you were wondering.”

She didn’t respond, and he tried not to worry. Brianagh would explain everything for her.

They reached the bailey and were subjected to another round of questions, but many of the men were the same guardsmen he’d fought alongside most of his life. They welcomed him back warmly, astonished at his unannounced return after so long an absence.

Kane returned the men to their posts, and the drawbridge to the main castle lowered. Aidan quelled the sudden emotion rising in his breast, and he confidently led Cian and Reilly over the moat, into the dark stone wall of the outer bailey. The echo of the horses’ hooves bounced off the mossy walls, and Aidan had never in his life been so overjoyed at the sound.

He rode into the early morning sun, temporarily blinded as they exited the dark tunnel, passing under the portcullis. The courtyard was empty but for the stable master and his charges, who stood waiting.

Aidan dismounted easily, then reached up and slid Emma off. He dragged her down his body, not missing the gasp of breath and the desire clouding her eyes.

He turned his head to the stable master.

“Bernard. Good to see you again.”

The man glared at him. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again. What took you so long to return? Horse lose a shoe?”

Aidan threw back his head and laughed. “I missed you too, old man. These horses need a rubdown and some oats as soon as possible. Think your whelps can handle that?”

The young boys waited until Bernard gave them a nod, then they each took one of the horses and led it to a gateway in the stone wall to their right. Bernard took the reins from Aidan and regarded him.

“Well, looks like you survived well enough.” He led the horse after the others, leaving Emma staring in consternation at the man’s retreating back.

“He doesn’t like you very much,” she noted, a hint of disapproval in her tone. “You laughed at him. That didn’t seem very nice.”

“That’s about as much emotion as he’s ever shown,” Aidan replied. He took her hand, then looked at Cian and Reilly. “He missed me. Ready?”

Cian grinned and replied in English. “I’ve been waiting for this for eight years, my laird.” He paused. “I mean, Aidan.”

At Emma’s confusion, Aidan explained, “When I travel from the clan, I become the acting laird. Now that we’re home again, I’m just Aidan.”

“Well, Bri will be happy to see me,” Reilly said. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Perhaps one or two of the chambermaids, as well.”

Before Emma could chastise him, a choked cry drew everyone’s attention to the castle steps.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood at the top of the steps, dressed in a deep blue léine with silver trim. His mouth hung open, his eyes wide, as he took in the foursome standing in his courtyard, and he shook his head.

“’Tis not possible,” he stated, staring at Aidan. “You’re dead.”

“Nah,” Aidan replied in Gaelic, his eyes twinkling. “I just wanted to see if absence did indeed make your heart grow fonder. Greetings, my laird.”

Nioclas MacWilliam ran down the stairs and slammed into his brother, hugging him tightly and pounding his back. Aidan blinked back his tears, coughing to cover up his displays of emotion, but Nick had no problems pulling back, grasping his brother’s face, then pulling him in for a hug again.

“Where the hell have you been?” Nick finally demanded, wiping the moisture from his eyes. “You never came back. I sent men after you, for years. I never stopped searching.”

“I traveled a bit.” Aidan glanced over his shoulder. Emma stood alone, twisting her hands together nervously as she tried desperately not to stare at them.

“I see you brought back your treasure,” Nick replied knowingly.

“Aye. She doesn’t speak our language very much, though.”

“From whence does she hail?” Nick asked, interested. “Somewhere I know?”

“I believe you know of it,” Aidan said carefully. “America?”

Nick gaped at him. “You jest!”

“Not at all.” Aidan couldn’t help his grin.

Nick pushed past him and grasped Emma’s hand in greeting. He said, in perfect modern English, “My lady, I welcome you to my home. I see you’ve taken good care of my brother, and for that, I thank you. Please, come inside and warm yourself by my fire; I’ll have our cook prepare you a meal immediately.”

She blinked at him, then looked at Aidan, as if for confirmation, before giving him a small smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

Nick whooped and laughed. “You really are from America!”

“Um…” She was clearly at a loss, and Aidan took pity on her.

“Emma, Nick is married to Bri. He knows an American accent when he hears one.”

“This is so unbelievable,” she murmured.

“O’Malley,” Nick said, extending his hand. The two men shook firmly. “I suppose I have you to thank for getting him back here?”

“What’s he saying?” Emma whispered to Aidan when Nick lapsed into Gaelic with Cian. “I can’t understand the accent.”

“They’re exchanging pleasantries, and Nick is thanking Cian for his service to the clan,” Aidan replied. “Don’t worry. We’ll speak English, mostly. Brianagh will no doubt be ecstatic to hear her mother tongue.”

A shriek pierced the air, and a stunningly beautiful brunette flew down the steps, skirts flying, toward Reilly. He easily caught her and swung her around, a huge smile lighting up his face.

“Reilly O’Malley, you didn’t even send word!” she exclaimed, laughing over the tears. She buried her head in his neck and hugged him tightly, her next words muffled, and Reilly patted her on the back. When she caught sight of Aidan, her face lit up again, and she launched at him, her arms wide. He caught her easily, careful of the large bump in her belly.

Aidan gave her a hug, then held her at arm’s length. “There’s something different about you,” he mused.

She gasped and replied in Gaelic, “You learned English!”

“I didn’t have a choice. I’ll tell you about it over a hot meal. Keela still an amazing cook?”

“The best,” Bri replied happily. She noticed Emma and smiled warmly, continuing in Gaelic. “Who is your companion?”

“Lady Brianagh, meet Lady Emma. She also speaks your language.” He said the last with emphasis, and Brianagh’s eyes showed her understanding.

“Pleasure, Lady Emma. I believe I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself this morning, so perhaps we should retire to my solar for some breakfast.”

Nioclas wrapped an arm around Bri’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Aye. We’ve much to discuss, and your solar is much more comfortable than mine.”

“Come on, then. Lady Emma, Aidan, Reilly? Cian,” she added, “we shall send for your sister and nephew. Care you to join us?”

“My thanks, my lady, but I prefer to wait for them in the great hall,” Cian replied.

She nodded regally, then walked up the castle steps. Grasping Emma’s elbow to steady her—or himself, he wasn’t sure which—Aidan was only too happy to follow.

When Emma’s vision adjusted to the dim light inside the great hall, she immediately noticed the sheer size of the room. The ceiling stretched up at least two floors, with a large window above the front door. Anchoring one end, an enormous hearth stood empty, save for a small glow of orange in the soot. Guards were stationed all around the room, standing at attention or, in some cases, sleeping on the floor. Brianagh spoke quietly with one of the guards closest to the door, and he headed toward the back of the room, through an open doorway.

“Breakfast,” Brianagh said by way of explanation, before heading toward the far corner of the great hall.

“Where are the rushes?” Emma murmured to Aidan, who shrugged.

“Bri hated having hay strewn about. I think you’ll find some modern touches to this castle that you won’t find anywhere else in Ireland. Brianagh is very adamant that the castle remains clean, for hygiene.”

They followed the laird and lady through the great hall, to a staircase tucked in the back. It wound up in a curved fashion, with brackets in the stone that held torches, currently unlit. Twice, Emma nearly slipped on the smooth stone, but Aidan caught her each time.

She became lost as they twisted their way through the hallways of the castle, some seeming to slope higher and others lower. Eventually, Brianagh pulled a key from the large keychain she wore at her waist and unlocked a heavy wooden door. It swung open, and Emma’s eyes widened in delight.

Inside, the room was filled with color. Bright tapestries, unlike any Emma had ever seen, lined the walls. Two large couches, made with rough-hewn wood and hand-sewn cushions, flanked the fireplace, in which a fire was already burning brightly. A carved desk was placed against the alcove window, parchment and ink neatly laid out on its surface, ready for use. The desk chair was made of the same wood, but it was cushioned and more ornate than the desk itself.

Books of all sizes lined the built-in shelves on either side of the desk, creating a warm and inviting environment.