Page 68 of An Enchanted Spring

“Welcome to the MacWilliam stronghold,” Aidan said, pride and relief evident on his face. “Damn, but it’s good to be back!”

“This is better than Bunratty,” Emma breathed, eliciting a laughingstocks from Reilly.

She took a deep breath of the fresh air, then shielded hereyes. “There’s a moat,” she exclaimed, pointing to the castle. “And is that a barbican in front of it?”

“It is,” Aidan replied, digging his heels into the horse. “The guards will halt us there before lowering the first drawbridge. Once we’re through, we’ll proceed straight on to the second, larger drawbridge, into the lower bailey. If my brother is home, I expect he’ll meet us there.”

Emma stared up at him in amazement. “Wow.”

“I take it you no longer believe me a sad head case?”

“How did you know?” she exclaimed. She coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, no, I never thought that. The castle doesn’t prove anything. Remember, you took me to Bunratty Castle, where they have the entire place set up as though it was the nineteenth century.”

His eyes darkened, and he swiftly pressed an open kiss against her lips. “This isn’t a reconstruction. This is the real thing. Medieval Ireland at its best, to be sure. You don’t have to believe me. But you will, Emma. You most certainly will.”

“Halt!”

Aidan pulled back the reins of the horse, grateful it was so responsive to the direction. Reilly had a knack for selecting horseflesh—how he’d managed to lead three well-groomed horses out of a stable and into the forest without getting caught was a lesson Aidan would love to learn.

To the guard high atop the barbican wall, Aidan raised both hands in a gesture of peace. The man nodded, his helmet catching the sun, and a few moments later, two riders came over the drawbridge. Aidan sat tall, waiting for them to arrive, and refused to allow even a hint of his nerves to show.

“What’s happening now?” Emma whispered.

“They’ll determine if we belong in the great hall or the dungeon.”

“Dungeon?” she squeaked.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm, then addressed the men as they slowed their horses to a stop.

“I’m here for Laird MacWilliam.” He spoke in Gaelic.

“State your purpose.”

Aidan grinned. “Does his only brother ever need a reason to visit?”

The senior-ranking man brought his horse alongside theirs, his eyes widening.

“Hello, Kane. Did you ever manage to marry Keela?”

Kane let out a great whoop and reached over to embrace Aidan in a manly hug. Emma ducked out of the way just in time. She almost lost her balance, but Kane righted her with a “Pardon, my lady.”

“I’ve brought Cian along as well,” Aidan said, jerking his head toward the man who was struggling to hold his emotions in check.

“Cian MacWilliam,” Kane said with an uninhibited grin. “You wily bastard. We thought the two of you dead and buried! The laird will be very pleased to see you again.”

“Do you travel with this man?” the other guard asked Aidan, referring to Reilly.

“Aye. Best to tell Lady Brianagh her cousin has arrived from the mainland,” Aidan said. He paused. “The lady is in residence?”

Both guards nodded, and Aidan felt a rush of relief. “Excellent.”

“Go ahead and announce their arrival,” Kane ordered, and the other guard galloped back to the barbican. “Follow me. We’ve a new process to follow, what with the attempts on the castle of late.”

“What kinds of attempts?” Cian asked.

“An individual trying to breach castle walls,” Kane replied. He guided them back toward the drawbridge. “We’ve caught him twice, and both times he escaped thedungeons, though we don’t know how. Nothing to be concerned about.”

In Emma’s ear, Aidan murmured, “That’s medieval Irish Gaelic. In case you were wondering.”

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