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“ S o what you’re saying is that most clans don’t allow for an heir succession?” Emma asked.

She and Brianagh strolled the grounds, a bevy of guards behind them, as Bri explained some of what made the MacWilliams different from many other clans in Ireland.

The day was almost warm, and people from all over the island were arriving for the upcoming tournament, which, Brianagh divulged, would have a grand dinner and dance to start the two-day matchmaking festivities.

Emma vowed to enjoy every moment of it. She didn’t know what life had in store for her when she returned to her time, whenever that was, but she took Brianagh’s words from yesterday to heart. She was going to enjoy the simpler things, and be grateful for them.

“Not all clans allow for the heir succession, no,” Brianagh replied. She sidestepped a mud puddle and steered Emma toward one of the inner bailey walls, where it opened into another area. “This is where the tournament magic will happen.”

“Does anyone ever die at these events?” Emma asked nervously. Through the gate in the wall that separated the lists from the courtyard, she spied men hoisting a long beam onto supports in the middle of the training fields. Further down, men used large metal spikes to outline circles in the dirt.

“Not often,” Bri replied, patting her on the arm. “The lists are being set up for jousting, swordplay, and close combat.”

“You have it on the castle grounds?” Emma asked.

“Yes. It’s safest, and Nioclas hates having his land trampled by overeager participants,” she answered.

“I could see that. He’s very intimidating.”

“Don’t let his grumbly ways fool you. He’s really quite soft on the inside.”

“Perhaps my brother only allows you to see such a weakness,” Aidan said, stepping from the shadows and grinning when Brianagh jumped.

“You are a menace!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on her heart. “You scared me half to death!”

He gave her a bow. “My lady. Lady Emma.”

“What are you doing here?” Brianagh demanded.

“Listening to you lay my very serious brother bare,” Aidan replied, his eyes teasing. “Soft, you say?”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” Brianagh warned.

“Oh, the price of my silence is high,” Aidan replied in mock seriousness. “Perhaps too high.”

“Name it,” Brianagh challenged him.

“Surely, you can’t be so afraid of your husband that you’d be willing to pay someone for silence,” Emma protested, worrying her lip.

Brianagh laughed. “Never. I simply don’t trust what his brother will say to him, as they have always loved to torment each other. Name your price, MacWilliam.”

“The company of your escort,” Aidan said without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re smooth,” Brianagh laughed. She waved her hand around. “I was just giving her the grand tour. ”

“Then I’m as good as any to take over,” Aidan replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned forward and murmured to Emma conspiratorially, “I did, after all, spend the majority of my youth inside—and outside—these walls.”

Brianagh relinquished Emma’s arm. “I believe she’s safe enough with you.”

“In public,” Aidan murmured so only Emma could hear. She flushed.

“Is four an acceptable number of guards?” Bri asked.

“Aye. We’re within the inner walls,” he replied, tucking Emma’s hand into his elbow.

“Perfect timing,” Brianagh said as a new group of people entered the courtyard. “There are some more of the Monaghans. I’ll greet them.”

“Would you care to see the inside of the lists?” Aidan asked, winding Emma’s hand around his bicep.

Her face lit up. “Yes!”

He grinned in response. “I thought so.”

He brought her to where the jousting would take place, and explained in great detail what the men were doing, and how the event would progress. He gave her insight into how the spears were checked for bluntness, chain mail worn, and swords sharpened.

“I saw you sharpening your sword. Back at Reilly’s,” she admitted. “I wondered at the time why you were restoring it yourself, in the moonlight.”

Aidan smiled. “It’s something I’ve always done.

Taking care of your weapon is something that’s taught from an early age here.

Swords aren’t inexpensive. The steel, if it’s of good quality, will save your life in a battle.

And if it’s sharpened correctly, those who attempt to take your life don’t get another chance at it.

” He paused. “That brutality—that reality— is part of everyday life here. I took to sharpening my sword in the moonlight because it soothes me. I feel closer to nature, to the earth’s cycles and her rhythms. ”

Emma watched him closely. “Just when I think I’ve figured you out, you surprise me.”

He led her out of the lists, back to the inner bailey. “I’m a man of many secrets.”

“No kidding,” she muttered. Louder, she asked, “What else are you good at?” He gave her a searing look, and she sucked in a breath. “Aidan!”

“What?” he asked, all innocence.

“Can you show me the moat?” she asked, changing the subject.

He pulled a face. “By the saints, why would you ever want to smell such a thing?”

“Because it’s a real moat! ” she replied, her voice tinged with glee. “It might be my only chance to ever see one!”

“Once you get closer to it, you’ll be glad it’s the only chance.” He grudgingly pulled her through the inner bailey, under the portcullis (which she stared at for well over a minute) and through to the outer bailey. He helped her climb the battlements and she glanced over the side.

“This is stunning,” she said, awed.

“It’s wastewater,” Aidan said, disgusted.

“Not that!” she replied. “ That. ” She pointed out to the village and sea beyond.

They stood for a moment, both captivated by the view. Before her impromptu trip to Ireland, Emma never saw such natural beauty before; the closest she ever got to nature was Westchester County. She hadn’t even visited the Jersey shore

A cold wind blew her hair around her, and she shivered. Aidan moved to stand behind her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Before she could voice a complaint, he leaned down, and in a low voice said, “On a full moon, if you were to stand on the battlement and send a wish out to sea, legend has it that your wish is carried on the waves until such a time when it can be granted.” The timbre of his voice rumbled through her.

“ Others believe that if you cast your wish to the sea, it holds it safe until your soul mate can retrieve it.”

“Have you ever sent a wish out into the sea?” she asked. She felt him nod. “Was it ever granted?”

He tightened his grasp on her as another wind swept across the battlements. “Aye”

She tore her view from the water to turn in his arms. She searched his eyes for a moment. “You’re a complex man.”

When his lips touched hers, another wind whipped up, and she bridged the distance between their bodies.

He slid his tongue into her mouth, tangled it with hers, and she felt herself fall into him.

Her heart sped up while everything around her slowed, and he wrapped her in his cloak, creating a cocoon for just the two of them.

Eventually, he pulled back from the kiss, but Emma refused to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see the emotion swirling in his, but more importantly, she didn’t want to reveal the emotions in hers.

“Coward,” he whispered, a smile in his voice.

“Self-preservation,” she shot back, though she buried her head in his chest and breathed him in.

He merely held her tighter.