Page 62 of An Enchanted Spring
Emma accepted their change of dress without comment, though Aidan knew she was curious. However, fear overrode curiosity, so she held her tongue when Reilly pulled up in full medieval garb, and Cian as well. She averted her eyes as he changed his own clothes and awkwardly wrapped the léine in the tight space of the moving vehicle.
Despite being a quiet man, Cian remained faithful to him and the MacWilliam clan. Aidan prayed for a hero’s welcome for him when they returned. After swearing loyalty to first Nick, then Aidan, the man stuck by his word.
Emma sat beside him, her hands clasped in her lap as her eyes devoured the landscape. He watched as she tucked a stray piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, and felt the heavy burden of his decision. He knew he was keeping her alive by anchoring her to his side, but he also knew that came at a price, and she had no idea how much it might cost her. She might wish herself dead after seeing him in his natural environment of cold, war, and hunger.
He glanced down at his satchel on the floor. Emma declared it a nice accessory when she saw it, but it held much more than just visual value. Food and gold were tucked inside—the former he expected to get them through the first couple nights, and the latter to get them out of a friendly dungeon. It also held a change of clothing for her, which would keep her from burning at a stake. The sword in the trunk, he hoped, would be the backup plan.
Backup plans, he was beginning to notice, were used more often than the primary ones.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Emma asked him softly, so Reilly and Cian couldn’t hear her. “You’re very quiet.”
Aidan nodded, but didn’t answer. After a moment, she patted his knee and turned to look out the window.
He caught her hand before she pulled it away, and held it in place. She looked at his hand, then into his eyes, and a shy smile crept across her face. She gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.
A tiny part of his soul breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, Emma, what’s your favorite thing about the Middle Ages?” Reilly asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
“Please don’t say courtly love,” Cian grumbled from the front seat.
She shrugged. “No, Cian, although I’m sure that was one of the lovelier parts. And it was more England than Ireland, after all. I think the most fascinating thing was how clans worked. It seems like, from everything that’s published, clans only banded together in times of war.”
“Not all clans,” Aidan replied, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “Some lived and died for each other, in battle or out.”
“Fealty?” she asked.
“Family,” he corrected.
She glanced at Reilly, then Cian. “Like you three? And Colin?”
Reilly parked the car in a nondescript dirt lot. He turned, noted Emma’s hand in Aidan’s. “Aye. Like us.”
Aidan took a breath. “Are you ready for this?”
Uncertainty clouded her eyes, but she said, “I am if you are. I need some space to think.”
Cian’s face remained serious. “You didn’t tell her where we’re going.”
Emma pulled her hand away from Aidan’s quickly. “As long as it’s away from Ben, I’m fine with that. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life running.”
“You’ll be safe with us,” Reilly replied. “Aidan? Care to elaborate?”
Aidan cleared his throat again, then coughed. “Nay. ” He gave a nod to Reilly and Cian, who exited the vehicle. When Emma made to open her door, Aidan grabbed her hand again.
“You’re beginning to freak me out a little,” she admitted.
The fear in her voice ate at him; her bravado began to crumble. Without another thought, he leaned forward and kissed her hard. She was shocked enough that she didn’t respond before he quickly pulled away.
“I’m taking you tomyhome. If we’re separated along the way, know that Cian and O’Malley both would give their lives for yours.”
“I hate that it might come to that. They owe me nothing,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“You’re one of us now, Emma. You’re part of the clan.”
“I’m not that important,” she said, her voice shaky.
Aidan tipped her chin up, using his thumb to wipe away the tear that escaped. “You are, Emma. Come with me. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
