Page 95 of An Enchanted Spring

Brianagh’s smile was tentative. She wrung her hands nervously. “Um, Emma, there’s something you should know.”

“He has to do swords next?” Emma guessed, craning her neck toward the swordplay area.

Brianagh exchanged a glance with Nioclas. “No, that’s not it.”

Laird Monaghan was jostling his way through the MacWilliam crowd, headed toward them. Bri was saying something, but Emma was again distracted by the sheer amount of food stuck in the laird’s beard. She wondered if she’d missed a food hawker during the event. She would have loved to try the medieval equivalent of popcorn, or a snow cone, or even a hot dog.

She wrinkled her nose. On second thought…maybe not the hot dog.

“Emma, listen to me! You need to know—” Brianagh stopped short as Monaghan reached their box.

Laird Monaghan said, in very broken English, to Emma, “Well, that settles that, I suppose. In case you were wondering, I thought you’d make a lovely Monaghan. But the Muskerry lass will do nicely, too. However, my son still has thoughts about…” He lapsed into Gaelic, leaving Emma confused.

“Um, thank you?” Emma replied uncertainly.

Brianagh’s countenance remained serene, but her hand on Emma’s arm tightened fractionally with each passing second. After a few moments, the laird took his leave of them, and Brianagh spun around, her back to the crowd.

“His son is still determined to marry you, if you’ll have him. And he’s willing to do anything to get you. He only warns us because the Muskerry clan outnumbers his clan, and he doesn’t want them to come after him. And we don’t want any battles here, either. These tournaments have yet to break out in war, but there’s always the possibility…”

“Perhaps you ought to take Lady Emma to her room for immediate preparations, and explain to her what’s happened,” Nioclas said grimly. “I’ll find that arse and tell him he needs to be in my solar to sign papers.”

Brianagh groaned loudly. “This is a disaster.”

“Wh-what?” Emma said, looking back and forth between them. “I’m not getting the warm fuzzies here.”

Brianagh signaled to Kane, who immediately brought forth her personal guard, before saying, “I’ll explain it once we get to your chamber. Kane—send for Sinead immediately. She’s to meet me in my solar posthaste.”

“Who’s Sinead?” Emma asked, allowing Brianagh to steer her out of the box.

“My best dressmaker.”

Emma licked her dry lips nervously. “Why would you need your best dressmaker?”

Brianagh set her jaw. “Because Aidan never breaks a vow. Let’s leave it at that until we reach your chamber.”

Silently, Emma hurried toward the castle, her stomach sinking. Would she have to go through with a wedding to Monaghan? Surely the MacWilliams wouldn’t force her to do that.

Brianagh called out instructions to various people as they made their way to her chamber. Emma didn’t know what she was saying, but she understood the urgent tone.

Brianagh flung open the door, and an older woman was standing in the center of the chamber, surrounded by bolts of fabric, a small stool, and six teenage girls. Right behind them, four men lugged a large tub into the room and placed it off to the side.

“Right,” Brianagh said briskly, rubbing her hands together. To Emma, she said, “We have four hours.” To Sinead, she said something in Gaelic, and the woman blinked, then began barking orders like a general.

Two of the girls came forward and grabbed Emma’s arms, hauling her to the stool, where they encouraged her to step up onto it. Sinead placed her arms in a T, and Emma looked at Brianagh in concern.

“Okay. First things first. Don’t pass out,” Brianagh warned. “Sinead will poke you with a needle to revive you. I’m not kidding.”

As if to demonstrate the point, Sinead stuck a long, thick needle into her mouth, then began to measure Emma.

“Next. Last night, Aidan announced that you were handfasted. Shane took that as a challenge. When Aidan charged out today, he cut Shane off to reach the MacWilliam side, and, in going back and forth in front of the clan, didn’t allow him the opportunity to come anywhere near you. Shane was not happy, but thankfully, he went with his second choice.”

“Brigit,” Emma supplied.

“Yes. And when Aidan unseated Shane, he was telling him, in stupid man-code, that you were his, and to back off.” Bri chewed her lip. “Laird Monaghan was, in no uncertain terms, demanding that you become unavailable to his son immediately.”

“I’m not available to him, though,” Emma pointed out. “Aidan already announced we’re handfasted.”

“Which, if you remember, is a perfect excuse to snatch you away,” Brianagh reminded her.

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