Page 74 of The Winter Laird

“I’ll be the only one to dance with you,” he growled playfully.

She giggled, and Bri smiled wistfully at them. It was so cute to watch a grizzled warrior such as Donovan act so in love and not bat an eye at it.

“Is Reilly planning to join us?” Brianagh asked to no one in particular.

“He’s making preparations to leave on the morrow,” Aidan replied with a self-satisfied grin. “I think he’s stayed long enough, myself.”

Brianagh’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Nioclas’s arm. “Did you send him away?”

He shook his head. “Nay, Lady Brianagh. He made this decision himself.”

“Do excuse me,” she said hastily, standing up. “I must go find him.”

“I’ll escort you.” Nioclas rose after her.

Bri walked silently beside him. The only sounds once they left the great hall were those of his boots and her slippers on the stone. She felt she should say something, but words escaped her. Nioclas, for his part, remained silent as well.

Knocking on Reilly’s chamber door, Nioclas opened it at his call and brought Brianagh inside.

“Were you planning to say goodbye?” she asked without preamble.

Reilly shoved his hands through his hair. “Brianagh, I can’t stay. I have to go back.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Back where, Reilly? Back to where I came from? Or another time?”

Reilly shoved the last of his belongings into a satchel on his mattress. “Bri, my duty is done, and no matter how much I wish to see you every day, I can’t. That’s not my destiny.” He glanced at Nioclas. “What I’m about to give her must remain locked in a trunk, never to be seen by any but you and Brianagh. It will get you killed.”

Nioclas peered at the object. It was a shiny portrait of Brianagh, Reilly, another woman, and three grown men. The garb was most unusual—Brianagh had a skirt that displayed her calves, and deadly looking shoes with spikes. Her arms were also bare.

He handed it over to her accusingly, and after just a look, she burst into tears.

“What is the meaning of this?” Nioclas demanded.

“You see why you can’t show this to anyone,” Reilly replied dryly. “Aside from the fact that your wife’s legs are showing…that’s a photograph. A portrait from the future.”

“See? This is my aunt Evelyn, and my uncle Connor. And that’s Colin, and James, and of course Reilly,” Brianagh managed through her sobs. “I miss them so much.”

“How many portrait painters do you have in the future?” Nioclas wondered aloud. He glanced at his sniffling wife, then sighed. “I’ll let you say your goodbyes in peace.” When the chamber door shut, Reilly grabbed her in a bear hug. “Bri, I’ll explain everything to them. They’ll understand—well, Evelyn will, anyway. And they’ll see it in the history books how well you fared.”

She couldn’t see through her tears, but as she was pressed against Reilly’s chest, it didn’t really matter. “Please don’t leave me.”

Reilly’s eyes were suspiciously wet. “Bri, I can’t promise I’ll see you again. But if the Fates allow it, I’ll be back sometime in your future.”

“I don’t want to stay,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I know,” Reilly whispered, “and it’s killing me to leave you. But I can’t stay, Brianagh. I can’t.”

She wept into him for a while longer, then finally pulled back, her nose red and her eyes puffy. “I love you, Ry. But please take me back. I don’t belong here.”

“I love you too, Bri.” He kissed her forehead. “This is your home—youdobelong here. Make the bastard admit his love for you so I don’t have to come back and skewer him on the business end of my sword.”

“Keep practicing in your garden,” she said with a half-hearted laugh.

“You knew?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded, then stepped back. “Of course. I know more than you give me credit for!”

“As do I, Bri.” He kissed her one more time before opening the door.

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