Chapter 10
Charlie stood on thesteps of the manor house, looking out. She breathed deeply, taking in the crisp spring air. There was a bite to it, that’s for sure, but it also held the promise of warmer days to come. When she’d left her time, it had been July. Now it was May and her favorite time of year, with blossom on the trees and flowers uncurling to bask in the spring sunshine.
Although, she reflected, there wasn’t much of that in evidence today. The sky was overcast, with a bank of clouds in the distance that threatened a drenching when they rolled this way. If she was going to get the pottery up and running before it hit, she’d better get started.
The sound of distant voices and footsteps echoed from up the hill, drawing her attention away from the impending clouds. She squinted, trying to make out the figures in the distance. She recognized Niall at the front of a large group of people that he was leading this way.
He was talking animatedly to a man just behind him—a tall figure with a thick beard and weathered face. Behind them trudged a gaggle of men, women and children who all looked ragged and weary. What was going on?
Behind her, Flora emerged from the house, her hands dripping with soapy water as she hastily wiped them on her apron. Her brows knitted together in a fierce scowl as she took in the sight of the approaching crowd.
“What in God’s name has he gone and done now?” she growled.
Charlie shrugged, offering Flora an apologetic smile. “I think we’re about to find out.”
As Niall and his group entered the courtyard Flora stepped down the steps to meet them, crossing her arms over her chest as if preparing for battle. Now they were closer, Charlie saw that the newcomers were carrying packs of belongings slung over their backs. Some of them were even leading scrawny goats.
Niall stopped a few paces away from Flora, resting his hands on his hips. His face held an expression of defiance in the face of Flora’s thunderous scowl.
“Flora,” Niall said, flashing his cocky smile. “May I present our new workers?” He swept an arm out to indicate the group behind him. A sea of tired faces peered back at the housekeeper, their expressions filled with a strange mixture of hope and apprehension.
There was silence as Flora let her gaze travel over them all, her face inscrutable. Then she turned her attention back to Niall, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And where do ye propose we put all our new workers, my lord?”
Niall gave a nonchalant shrug. “We’ll make do. The barn is empty so that will do for now.”
The housekeeper huffed, her scowl remaining firmly locked in place. She directed her gaze at the crowd again, this time with a hint of resignation. “Fine,” she snapped. “Let’s get ye all settled in before the rain comes.”
The man Niall had been talking with stepped forward, holding out his hand to Flora. “Grateful for yer hospitality, madam.”
Flora shook his hand briskly and then turned her stern gaze on the group. “Well, dinna just stand there gawping. Come on!” With that she strode off towards the barn, a line of weary people following in her wake.
Once they were alone, Charlie descended the steps and went to stand next to Niall.
“Well then,” he said, running a hand through his hair and leaving it sticking up at odd angles. “That went better than I expected.”
“Who are those people?” Charlie asked.
“Displaced folk,” Niall replied, his gaze following the group as they followed Flora. “They lost their homes to a landlord’s greed and had nowhere else to go.” He paused, then shrugged. “I offered them work on the mill.”
Charlie glanced up at Niall, studying his profile. There was a steeliness in his eyes, a determination that made her chest tighten with something she couldn’t quite identify.
“It seems to be a habit of yours.”
He turned to look at her. “What is?”
“Taking in waifs and strays. You’re a good man, Niall Campbell.”
Niall snorted softly at her words. “Kindness doesnae come into it,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “These people need work, and I have work that needs doing. It’s as simple as that.”
It wasn’t, and they both knew it.
Charlie tilted her head. “You don’t fool me, Niall Campbell.”
He might act the arrogant charmer half the time but that was not the man who helped her clean the workshop yesterday, who toiled in the dirt with his men, who took in waifs and strays and offered them work.
Niall’s brows rose, his gaze meeting hers with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. Something between wariness and expectation. “I’m sure I dinna know what ye are talking about.”
“I think you do. Hide behind that mask of yours if you like, Niall Campbell. But I think I’m starting to see through it.”
