Niall waved expansively. “The estate. There’s more to this place than just the construction site. Ye’ve already met Knox so ye should meet the rest of the folk who make this place run.”
A tour could be a good distraction, a chance to explore and maybe find something—anything—that could help her situation. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“This way then.”
Niall began the tour with the stables. The scent of hay and horse was comforting, familiar, and Charlie found herself relaxing a bit as she patted the nose of a large bay mare. Niall introduced her to the stable master, a grizzled old man named Rory who had a kind smile and a weathered face that spoke of decades spent outdoors.
From there, they moved on to the fields where men and women were bent double, working with their hands to cultivate the rich soil. They were growing vegetables and barley for the upcoming winter months.
Then there was the smithy where iron was heated and fashioned into practical items for daily use, and the granary where harvested grains were stored. She met dozens of people—and too many names to ever hope to remember.
Throughout it all, she was impressed by how well Niall seemed to know his people. He greeted everyone by name and had a pleasant word to spare for each of them. They responded in kind, bantering and chatting in a way that spoke of deep affection. She was struck again by the two different sides of him: charming society rogue and hard-working landowner. Which was the real Niall Campbell?
Finally, the land began to change. It became sparse country, devoid of any human settlements and inhabited only by wandering sheep.
Niall came to a halt. “Ah, the border where my rule ceases,” he said with a wry smile, looking out over the landscape.
“So if that’s not your land,” she asked. “Who does it belong to?”
He pointed to the right. “Everything in that direction belongs to Boyd MacAllister.”
From the dark tone of Niall’s voice, it was clear that he held little love for the man. “And in the other direction?” she asked, pointing to the left.
If anything, Niall’s expression grew even darker. “My brother.”
Charlie blinked, taken aback. “Your...brother?”
“Aye. We should be going. There’s plenty more to see.”
But Charlie didn’t move. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
He paused, reluctance showing in every line of his posture. “Brothers,” he corrected, glancing at her. “I have four of them. Bryce is the eldest and holds all the lands east of here.” He breathed out slowly, turning to look out at the lands beyond his borders. “Surrounded by enemies,” he said softly.
Before she could ask any more questions, he strode away and Charlie was forced to trot to catch up. As they walked, she mulled over Niall’s revelation. Brothers. Four of them. That meant he was part of a rather large family—unlike Charlie. There was just herself, her cousin, and her aunt and uncle.
What were her own family doing right now? she wondered. Her cousin Ruby was as close as a sister and her aunt and uncle had raised her. Were they missing her? Had they called the police when she didn’t turn up for the dress fitting? Or did time travel not work that way and in fact she’d only been gone for an instant?
It made her head hurt to think about it.
As they came out from a copse of Scot’s Pine, a cluster of stone buildings came into view. Some were half-collapsed, their roofs sunken in and walls crumbling. Others stood surprisingly intact, their stonework darkened by centuries of weather. A large stone chimney towered over it all.
“What are those?” Charlie asked, pointing at the dilapidated structures.
A wistful expression crossed his handsome features. “My mother’s old pottery workshop. It’s been abandoned for years.”
Charlie’s heartbeat quickened. A pottery? “Can I take a look?”
Niall hesitated, his gaze flickering over the ruined buildings. “Alright, but be careful. It hasnae been maintained.”
As they approached the structures, Charlie felt a strange sense of anticipation. The idea of getting her hands on clay again, of losing herself in the familiar motions of shaping and molding, was very appealing.
The first building they entered was obviously once used as a kiln room. The large hearth was cold and empty, the ashes long since cleaned away. Despite its ruined state, Charlie could see how it would have functioned in its prime.
“Your mother is a potter?” she asked Niall as she walked around the room, trying to piece together how it must have looked when operational.
“Aye,” Niall said curtly. “She was.
Charlie glanced at him. “Was?”
