“I...um...I was hoping to have a word with Niall.”
“Ye’ll find him in the eastern pasture,” Donald said. “Through the main doors, across the courtyard, through the gate and ye’ll be there. Would ye like me to escort ye?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “You all look busy. I’ll find my way.”
She turned on her heel and hurried outside into the courtyard. The cobblestones were slick beneath her feet, worn smooth by centuries of use. She could see the gate Donald had mentioned at the far end, a heavy wooden thing reinforced with iron bands. The courtyard itself was a bustling hub of activity, teeming with people tending to chores and craftsmen busily engaged in their trades. A blacksmith hammered away at a glowing piece of iron, its rhythmic clinks echoing off the stone walls of the manor. Women filled buckets at the well and children ran underfoot, their laughter piercing the busy hum of work.
Her heart began to pound in her chest, her panic growing. She put a hand to her head, suddenly dizzy, when a cacophony of excited barking caught her ears. She looked around to see two border terriers racing across the courtyard, their rough coats sandy and bristling in the sunlight.
One of them skidded to a halt at her feet, panting heavily and looking up at her, whilst the other jumped onto its back legs, placing front paws on Charlie’s knees and grinning up at her with tongue lolling out.
She felt a smile creep across her face and reached down to scratch the dog’s ears. “Hello there. And who might you be?”
As she petted the dogs, her panic receded a little so she pushed herself to her feet, squared her shoulders, and set off across the courtyard, the two little dogs gamboling around her like spring lambs.
As she reached the gate on the far side, the cool wind whipped her hair about her face, carrying with it the rich scent of earth and growing things. She pulled open the gate and stepped through onto the path beyond. The wind was stronger here, unbroken by any buildings, but also warmer, carrying with it the heat of the sun.
The path itself was not paved, but rather a well-trodden dirt track that wound its way through the pasture beyond. Tall grasses brushed against her skirts as she walked, their seed heads bobbing in the breeze like a sea of tiny ships. The dogs kept her company, their little paws scrabbling on the pebbles as they worked to keep up with her long strides. They occasionally darted off into the fields, chasing after butterflies or their own shadows before bounding back to her side.
Ahead of her, a group of men came into view, hunched over as they labored. They worked methodically, their movements synchronized as they moved to haul stones into a wooden cart.
In the middle of them, working along with the others, she spotted a familiar figure. He had his back to her, and his hair tied at the nape of his neck.
Niall.
He was stripped to the waist, revealing a muscular torso and arms glistening with sweat. Charlie felt a blush creep across her cheeks as she approached. Oh yes, trust him to have a body to die for.
As if sensing her presence behind him, he turned and met her gaze.
“Charlotte,” he said, wiping the sweat off his brow with one arm and then giving her a lazy grin. “What are ye doing out here?”
What wasshedoing out here? What washedoing out here stripped and sweating, hauling rocks and dirt like a common laborer? Was this really the same suave, self-assured lady’s man she’d met in Edinburgh?
“Could I have a word?” she replied, swallowing hard. The way his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths and the way the thin layer of sweat made his skin glisten wasverydistracting.
Niall nodded and gestured to the others to continue without him. He picked up his shirt and slipped it on as he walked over to her. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she reassured him quickly, folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to put some barrier between them. “I just...” She frowned at the building site behind them. “What are you all doing?”
“Right now? Quarrying stone. We’re going to need it.”
“Need it? For what?”
Niall’s eyes flashed and a boyish grin spread across his face. “Come with me, lass, and I’ll show ye.”
He held out a hand to her, palm up, his fingers grimy from the work. Hesitant, she placed her own within it.
Niall’s smile deepened, his eyes flashing with amusement, and he led her uphill, the dogs scampering behind them. The wind grew stronger as they climbed, carrying with it the faint scent of heather and wild thyme from the moors beyond the manor’s boundaries.
The hill was steep and she had to work to keep up with Niall’s long strides. He did not seem to notice or slow down for her, his eyes focused ahead. She noticed how his shirt clung to his back, damp with sweat from his earlier work, and forced herself to focus on their destination.
Near the top of the hill, they reached a plateau that had been turned into a construction site. Men were working diligently under the watchful eye of an older man with wild red hair who stood with his hands on his hips, bellowing instructions and swearing crudely enough to turn the air aflame.
“Watch where ye are going with that beam, ye bloody idiot! Ye nearly took Emery’s flaming eye out! No, not there! There! God save me, my old ma could do better than ye useless lot of sheep turds!”
Niall winced at the older man’s colorful language. “That,” he said, gesturing towards the fiery-haired man, “is Knox.”
He whistled sharply, cutting through the cacophony of work noise. At the sound, Knox spun around, huffing and puffing like a riled bull, eyes narrowed. His expression softened when he spotted Niall and he straightened up, brushing off his hands on his britches.
