Page 20 of The Winter Laird

He blinked. “Aye. Many do.”

She nodded, biting the inside of her lip. “Tell me again who you are.”

He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Reilly O’Malley, O’Rourke protector.” His eyes opened and searched hers. “But I’m still the same Reilly you’ve known your entire life.”

Unwilling to discuss that, she folded her hands in front of her. “Why on Earth did you bring me here?”

He shot her an incredulous look, but she waited silently for his answer. After a moment, he realized she was serious. He sighed again, then closed the door. “Because, Brianagh, you are the chosen O’Rourke daughter who is the first in our line of time-travelers. You were given to me right after you were born, and I took you to the future, to Evelyn and Connor.”

“Do they know who I am?” she asked.

His eyes shifted to a spot on the wall somewhere behind her left shoulder. “Aye, Evelyn does. And Colin, too.”

“Colin?” she gasped. She couldn’t believe she’d been deceived by everyone around her since her infancy. “How does Colin know?”

“We couldn’t tell you, Brianagh. The Fates decided long ago, before you and me, that you couldn’t know until the proper time. For generations, the O’Rourkes held this secret. When your aunt realized she was the one charged with your upbringing, she knew the stakes. If she told you, the threat of what you might do would alter history.”

“Like what?” Brianagh exclaimed, angry. “Do you think I would jump off a bridge because my family thought I was some sort of fantastical legacy-holder? Maybe try to go back in time myself?”

She paused.Damn. That’s exactly what she would have done, if for no other reason than to prove their insane story false.

“You know you would have,” Reilly said, crossing his arms. “While it was my job to protect you, it was Evelyn’s to raise you.”

“This is unbelievable,” Brianagh whispered. It was no use trying to deny any of it; she stood in the middle of a castle, lived through a medieval dungeon of sorts, and watched the man in front of her kill to protect her. “I want to go home.”

“You are home,” he replied gently.

“No!” she snapped. “No, home is where my life is. My business, for God—”

“You really want to discuss your business? Colin has it in hand. You’ve spent years training him for this.”

“Colin? He’s not ready to take over an entire business!” she nearly shrieked, her self-control slipping another notch. “He can’t even find himself a date that sticks around for more than a week!”

Reilly grabbed her shoulders and shook her once, hard. “Brianagh, Celtic Connections isn’t your destiny! Your destiny is here, to have children and to pass on the ability to time-travel—”

“You don’t have a say in my destiny!” she cried, wrenching from his grasp.

They stared silently at each other, her breathing labored, his arms folded.

Finally, she spoke in a low voice. “You’re telling me that I am responsible for an entire line of O’Rourkes, and that if I don’t start having these magical kids, that line will simply cease to exist?” He took a step toward her, but she threw out her arms. “That’s a hell of a lot of pressure you didn’t bother to prepare me for! I don’t evenwantchildren!”

“If you do not do this today, history will be changed in ways even I can’t comprehend,” Reilly replied, his voice haunted.

“Wait—do what today?” Brianagh suddenly felt ill-at-ease. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill that stole over her.

Reilly dropped his head. “Marry the MacWilliam.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry. Come again?”

* * *

A knock interrupted them.

“My lady?” A servant stood at the doorway, looking as if she wished she were somewhere else. “You’ve been requested to join the laird and company in his solar to break your fast.”

Brianagh looked at Reilly, panic flaring in her chest. She’d never felt more like running, but she was trapped. She had no idea how to get home, nor even where was safe within the walls of the castle.

“Relax,” he said immediately, sensing her urge to flee. “You will be fine. A solar is just the laird’s private room, where he conducts most of his business. Your birth mother and father expect nothing from you—”

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