Emma looked at him questioningly, but all he said was, “I saved you from a night of fools.”
“Thanks,” Emma replied with feeling. “I mean, I would love to dance, absolutely. But those men looked at me like…”
“A cup of water after a long drought?” Bri supplied helpfully.
Emma kept a placid expression on her face, aware that Shane Monaghan was staring at her again, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Yes. I’ve never experienced anything like this.”
“Well, most people from your time haven’t,” Aidan pointed out. She rolled her eyes.
“Let’s go find Nioclas,” Brianagh said, worry in her tone. She glared at Aidan. “I don’t know if he can fix what you’ve done.” She dragged Emma away, and Aidan turned to clasphands with someone, not bothering to say goodbye. He winked at Emma.
“He told Monaghan you’re handfasted to him,” Bri almost growled. “Unbelievable. That’s like dangling a piece of fresh meat in front of a starved dog.”
“Did you just call me fresh meat?” Emma wondered aloud.
“Sorry. But the metaphor fits. Shane is a very competitive man. Aidan’s just thrown down the gauntlet in the ultimate game of Win the Fair Maiden.”
Emma’s face paled. “What?”
“Remember how I said handfasting leads to ransoms?”
“I’m going to be kidnapped?” she exclaimed.
“Hopefully not. But Monaghan was quite clear in his reply to your newly-betrothed.”
“What did he say to Aidan?”
Brianagh’s mouth settled into a grim line. “The same sentiment as: To the victor go the spoils.”
They reached Nioclas, who was chatting with yet another man dressed in different colors, and Emma realized that the different colors symbolized the different clans. It also explained why her dress matched Brianagh’s, as well as Nioclas and Aidan’s léines. She was dressed in MacWilliam colors.
Brianagh said something, but Nioclas gave a shake of his head and turned back to the man. Brianagh’s arm tightened around Emma’s, and she dragged her off in another direction.
“The kitchens,” Brianagh said through clenched teeth. “We need to regroup.”
The kitchen was bustling, but all the women stopped to curtsy as they entered. Bri led Emma to a small round table in the corner of the kitchen. “This is a disaster. I can’t believe he would do this.”
“I think he was trying to save me from unwelcomeattention,” Emma interjected, feeling the need to defend Aidan’s actions.
“I think you understand the termpissing contest,” Bri replied, her eyes narrowing to slits. “I won’t allow Aidan to ruin this match.”
“Should I return to my chamber?” Emma asked, wishing she were anywhere else. She didn’t want to mess up a medieval matchmaking soiree, especially as she understood what it felt like to be the second-best woman in a man’s life.
She couldn’t do that to another person.
“No. If you go there, he’ll seek you out.”
“Aidan?”
“No.Monaghan.”
Emma shook her head. “He just met me. Make him select from his list.”
Brianagh slammed her hands on the table in frustration, then sighed heavily. “He will want what isn’t his. I seated him with Brigit of the Muskerry clan, his first choice. But you watch. He’ll give his attentions to you tonight, offer you his first dance—which you’ve already accepted by way of his father—and declare a meeting in the lists tomorrow to show his future bride what he has to offer. He’ll give his favor to you, and Brigit won’t accept him after that. And I, for one, wouldn’t blame the poor girl. I bet Monghan thinks we brought you here as one of the possible choices. He’ll want to ally with our clan, though challenging the laird’s brother doesn’t seem the smartest thing to do.”
Emma chewed her lip as Bri fretted. “There’s got to be another way to save this match. Especially as I’m not staying.”
Nioclas poked his head in the door. “Ah, there you are. Monaghan just asked me for use of the lists tomorrow. He said he’s excited to announce his choice once he’s shown his warrior prowess.”