They’d beenat the castle for four days, and while he always enjoyed a good visit with Bri, Colin needed to get back to his life. His normal, everyday life, where he had more distractions at his fingertips. He needed distractions.

Here, there was nothing for him to do but watch Ellie. He didn’t trust himself to be alone around her; he might start talking, and who knew what would come out of his mouth? Four days of watching her transform from a quiet, timid woman with two left feet into a medieval goddess was tearing him up inside.

If he was being perfectly honest about it, watching other men see Ellie as he had since the moment he met her was tearing him up.

Whereas back in London she wore mostly depressing browns and grays, here she wore Claire’s gowns, as they were of about the same size. The deep O’Rourke red seemed to be her favorite, though she wore the MacWilliam blue just as brilliantly. Her eyes shone brighter, her hair gleamed, and her waist was perfectly accentuated by the cuts of the gowns.

Of course the men of the castle couldn’t help but notice. Every time she entered a room, Colin was hyperaware of her, from the hairs on the back of his neck to the direction in which his feet forced him to turn.

The other men in the castle were not immune to her—or to Gwendolyn, either. That woman was all Irish fire, with her bright red hair and bold laugh that ensured she stood out in the best way.

The women had, most definitely, made a mark on the men in the clan. Had they been born into this time, Colin was certain they’d have their pick of eligible warriors for husbands. The men would indeed consider themselves fortunate to have such beautiful, intelligent, sparkling women as their wives.

Could Ellie live with him as he was? If he wasn’t in one of his Celtic Connections offices, he was most likely to be found in a different century. His last vacation had been over ten years ago, and he hadn’t had a serious relationship since—

Well, ever.

There wasn’t enough of him to give to a woman, and he recognized that. He also knew it was unfair to even ask it of Ellie, but she made him want things he never before even dared to think about. Home. A family of his own.

Love.

Reilly smacked Colin on the forehead. “Christ, O’Rourke, your attention span grows shorter as you grow older!”

“Not all of us are as fortunate as you are with your aging secrets,” Colin muttered, rubbing his skin. He rubbed a little harder than necessary, hoping to dislodge the disconcerting thoughts bouncing around his brain.

“I’m fairly sure as to why you can’t leave,” Reilly continued.

“Do tell.”

Ry snorted. “Ah, you’re such a fool, O’Rourke. You can’t leave until you figure it out yourself.”

Colin wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his léine. He hopped from foot to foot, testing the balance of his sword, as men trained around them in the lists. “There’s been no attack on the castle, and no word from either the O’Rourkes or the O’Connells of an upcoming battle. MacWilliam scouts have come back without word as well. Seems strange that you were called back.”

“There’s always a reason,” Reilly murmured, his typical response when Colin questioned the Fates. “I do prefer training here than in your pathetic excuse for a garden, though.”

Colin raised his sword and snickered. “You like it better here because the women are so accommodating to your needs.”

Reilly flashed him a mischievous smile. “You know it, cousin. Tell me, what’s it like, when you’re parched from training, but all the serving wenches are bringing drinks to me?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Colin returned, with a thrust of his blade against Reilly’s. “I don’t have a proper training partner, so I’ve yet to need a drink.”

Ry threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Oh, you’ll pay for that insult!”

Colin ducked and narrowly avoided losing his head. He turned and swung, his blade meeting Reilly’s in a bone-shaking clash.

“The lasses seem to be quite taken with each other,” Reilly said eventually, barely breaking a sweat. “Chatty when they get together, for certain.”

“Seems like they rubbed off on you,” Colin grunted, jumping back as Reilly’s sword whooshed past him. While he knew he could never be Reilly’s equal in swordplay—he’d never met anyone in all his travels who could—it gave Colin great pleasure to make him train a little harder than he did with others.

Reilly smirked. “Yet somehow I can concentrate on more than a single thing at a time. You, lad, cannot.” And with that, he pinned Colin’s sword down with a flick of his wrist.

Colin swore at him, making Reilly laugh.

“Well, the lasses finally caught wind of the faire. I’ve no idea how Nick kept it a secret for so long.”

“While Brianagh was away, he told the clan to keep it quiet,” Colin informed him. “Not that it did much good.”

They sheathed their swords and headed towards the keep. “Perhaps I’ll stay another day or so. Ellie would probably love to see a faire. Living history and all that.”