Page 18 of The Winter Laird
Nioclas grit his teeth and shot Aidan a glare that inspired fear…in others. Aidan wagged his eyebrows and continued to shove food into his mouth.
Nioclas flung open the door with a barked, “Aye?”
“Lovely to see you as well, MacWilliam,” Kiernan said cheerfully. “I always love the morning after a skirmish. Nothing makes you feel more alive!”
“I can think of a few things, starting with that feisty maid downstairs—” Aidan started.
“We’ve a lady present,” Kiernan cut in quickly.
“Care to explain that?” Aidan replied, looking him up and down.
Kiernan laughed. “MacWilliam, you and I shall meet in the lists over that. I meant Lady O’Rourke, my wife. She arrived just this morning.”
“My lady.” Nioclas bowed as she entered behind her husband. “I do hope your travels were uneventful.”
“Oh, aye,” she replied with a smile. “But ’tis my understanding that my next few days will be just the opposite.”
Nioclas repressed his sigh and inclined his head. “That is my understanding as well. Shall we discuss the betrothal terms?”
“Certainly. Once we know for sure she’s my daughter.”
“You mean…” Nioclas trailed off as he realized Kiernan wasn’t certain the woman they rescued last night was his true daughter.
“There’s only one way for us to know,” Lady O’Rourke said gently. “We must see the mark.”
Chapter 6
Brianagh was not one to give in to hysterics. She never was—a fact of which she was absurdly proud. When her first matched couple decided to get married and the best man was caught with not one but two bridesmaids the night before— neither of which were his wife— she managed to calm the bride and groom, remove the offending parties from the ceremony, and save the reputation of her business before the snake could even put his pants on.
However, as she looked around the barren room, with its stone walls, hard floor, and prickly bed, she accepted that everyone had their limits.
The frustrating thing about it was that Bri wasn’t quite surehowto have a hysterical fit.Perhaps, she thought, Iought to review the issues.
The first thing on her list had to be the time travel itself. Bri couldn’t fully piece together the logistics of it—it was a sensation she never really wanted to go through again, and she hoped Reilly had a different way to get her home.
Speaking of Reilly, he was high on the list of issues, too. He wasn’t who he claimed he was, and although she was angry with him, she understood why he never told her about his little superpower. She would have laughed herself into a fit of tears, then teased him mercilessly for the rest of his days. But he was the only person she knew here, so she’d reserve the teasing for after they got back. She vowed she wouldn’t speak to him for a good six months, at least, though.
And he killed a man. It was, she understood, to save their lives. But he should’ve at least given her a briefing on the situation of this place.
She also didn’t know exactly whatthis placewas—Ireland, but when? She understood the language. Gaelic was taught to all the O’Rourkes at an early age. Her aunt ensured it. Reilly had finessed her language skills by spending almost five straight years only speaking Gaelic. He knew she was curious—or stubborn—enough to learn it just so she wouldn’t miss out on what he was saying. But Bri was completely unaware as to how the language may have changed from this point in time—again, wherever this time is; the lack of knowledge was really bothering her—to her time. Modern times.
Her list further proved she needed answers, and she needed them now.
Unfortunately, she had no idea where her dress went, and the long white nightgown she wore covered her from the bottom of her chin to the tips of her toes.
She needed some clothes.
She flicked the covers off herself and immediately pulled them back on. The air was bitingly cold, and she was fairly certain if she dared to place her feet onto the floor, they’d stick like a tongue to cold metal.
Her door creaked, and Bri sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. When Reilly poked his head in, she narrowed her eyes. “I have some questions for you.”
He sighed. “I figured you did. You always have questions.” He closed the door behind him and withdrew something from his tunic. “But I also have questions. Such as…what’s this, Brianagh?” He tossed her purse to her.
Her face lit up. “I thought someone stole this from me!”
Reilly sat on the edge of her bed, his expression grave. “If I hadn’t felt it on you when we were in Dowth, you’d be in some serious straits right now. I told you in the car,nothing but the dress.”
She unzipped the pouch and dumped the contents onto the bed. “My phone! License, credit card, cash…”
