“Aye,” Niall replied quickly. “A guest. Just a guest.” She was far more than that, of course. She was an enigma he intended to puzzle out but Donald didn’t need to know that.
“Of course, my lord, and she will be shown the utmost hospitality. I’ve already had my orders from Flora in that regard.”
“Good. Make sure she’s comfortable. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my study. I’ve some work to finish.”
“Of course sir, I shall leave ye to it,” Donald said, nodding his approval. He turned and started barking orders at a group of stable boys lounging near the barn. Niall watched him for a few moments, amused by the flurry of activity that suddenly burst forth, before he turned and made his way towards the house, the dogs bounding along behind him.
His study was located on the top floor of the house. It was a long climb up a winding staircase, lit only by narrow slits of windows that let in thin shafts of golden sunlight. As he ascended, he could hear the distant sounds of life from outside: the clanging of metal from the blacksmith’s forge, the laughter of children playing in the fields beyond the walls, and the constant hum of life and living.
Ah, how he’d missed it.
Finally, he reached the top of the staircase and pushed open the heavy oaken door to his study.
It was a large circular room, filled with shelves upon shelves of books. Scrolls and parchments were piled high on every available surface, testament to the many years Niall had devoted to learning and understanding the world. It was an obsession his brothers and parents had never understood but one that had served him well in the years since. Without these books and scrolls, these obscure theories and outlandish ideas, he doubted he and his people would have survived the years just past.
The dogs bounded over to the fireplace and flopped into a contented heap on the rug whilst Niall made his way to his desk and dropped into his chair with a sigh.
He reached for a blank piece of parchment from the towering stack on his desk, being careful not to knock over the precariously balanced inkwell. He took a quill and sat with his hand poised over the parchment, his mind racing as he began to translate his thoughts into words.
Finally, he began writing. The marks flowed easily from his quill but to a casual observer, the coded message would make no sense. Good. That’s how he wanted it. The report to his superiors didn’t take long. Although he’d uncovered some minor players in Edinburgh, he’d still not uncovered who they were really looking for: the power behind the rebellion.
And Charlotte? He paused, quill hovering above the parchment. He was duty bound to report everything, and that included her. And yet, he hesitated. For a reason he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself reluctant to mention her.
Someone will come who will help ye find the path ye were meant to tread. One who will see ye, Niall Campbell.
He signed off the report without adding anything else then sealed it with a blob of melted wax before adding it to the pile of dispatches ready to go out by courier this evening.
With a sigh, he rose from the desk and walked to one of the narrow windows. Outside, he could see Joseph in conversation with Knox, Niall’s master builder, and a group of clansmen who were stripped to the waist and covered in dust.
A flush of eagerness went through him. He’d received regular reports on the progress of his building project while he’d been in Edinburgh, of course, but it wasn’t like seeing the real thing.
Whistling to the dogs, he left his study and took the stairs down to the courtyard two at a time. There was work to be done and it wouldn’t do itself.
***
CHARLIE PULLED THEbrush through her hair, combing out the last of the tangles that the journey here had put in it and doing her best to calm her worry.
The room Flora had delivered her to was comfortable but in no way as opulent as the Edinburgh townhouse. A narrow bed, a fireplace against one wall, and a large rug over the floorboards, were the only decoration. In fact, she couldn’t decide whether Niall’s country house was actually a house or a castle. It seemed caught between the two as though the builder hadn’t been quite sure.
She put down the hairbrush and walked to the window. Instead of Edinburgh’s skyline, this time her gaze was met by an undulating landscape of hills with rocky summits, fields of crops waving in the breeze, and little crofts dotted about, with lines of smoke rising from the chimneys to join the clouds scudding across the sky.
It was a bucolic scene but all it did was remind her how far away from home she really was. There was nothing mechanized in sight and the people working the fields were doing so with hand tools and the occasional draft horse pulling a plow.
That panic started to flutter in her belly again and she gripped the window ledge hard.
Keep it together,she told herself.You won’t be here long. Niall will arrange for you to go back to Cardiff and everything will be fine.
And if it isn’t?a traitorous little voice whispered in the back of her head.If you go all the way back to Cardiff and find yourself still in the seventeenth century? What then?
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She couldn’t think about that.
Her stomach began to churn and she felt a headache building behind her eyes. She couldn’t just sit here alone with her thoughts going round and round. She had todosomething. Anything. She strode to the door, pulled it open, and hurried downstairs to the main room of the house.
Although, ‘room’ was a loose term for the place she found herself in. It was huge, with a high, beamed ceiling, leaded windows high up on the walls, and a fireplace along one wall that was big enough to stand up in. Long tables filled the space, making it look more like a dining hall than any kind of living room, and she guessed that Niall and his staff ate here communally.
Flora, Joseph, and another man whom she’d been introduced to as Donald, were the only occupants, seated at a long table by the fireplace and poring over some documents. They looked up as she burst in.
“Lady Charlotte!” Donald said, rising from his seat. “Is there aught ye need?”
