He didn’t reply. He just stared at her and that look was in his eyes again, that look that made her heart beat a little faster.
“Charlotte,” he said softly, stepping forward. “I—”
“Ah, there ye are!”
They both turned to see Joseph bustling up to them. He stopped and looked between the two of them. “Er, was I interrupting?”
“Nay,” Niall said quickly, stepping back and putting some space between them. “What can I help ye with, Joseph?”
“It isnae ye I want, my laird, but Lady Charlotte.” He turned to her. “I’ve got together the supplies ye asked for. If ye like, we can take it over to the pottery now.”
A zing of excitement shot through Charlie’s stomach. “You did? Then what are we waiting for? I can’t wait to get started.”
“This way then.”
As she followed Joseph, Charlie cast one last glance at Niall, who stood watching them with an unreadable expression. She couldn’t help feeling there were things left unsaid between them.
When they reached the pottery workshop, she was taken aback to find bundles of building materials outside and two men already hard at work fixing the roof. She stopped, staring. “Joseph...” she began, her voice trailing off in surprise.
Joseph grinned back at her. “Surprised, are ye?”
Charlie nodded slowly. “I didn’t expect... This is amazing.”
“Lord Niall said ye wanted to get started right away,” Joseph replied with a shrug. “So let’s get to it, eh?”
Together they worked to unpack all the supplies, passing tools and bags of clay to the men who were busily working on the building’s repairs. The sky overhead threatened rain, but for now it held its peace, allowing them to get the materials safely under cover.
Joseph handed her a pile of old aprons that Flora had sent over. The fabrics were faded, worn with age and use, but they were clean and sturdy. Charlie slipped one over her head, tying it securely at her waist. It smelt faintly of soap and wood smoke—a comforting scent that brought back memories of her aunt’s kitchen.
With the aprons distributed and the supplies stored, Charlie followed Joseph into the main building. Despite its disrepair, she could see a certain grace in the old pottery. Its stone walls were sturdy, worn smooth by years of weather and work. The vast kiln took up one end of the space, an imposing structure of brick and iron that was heated by burning wood. She guessed it would take an age to heat to the required temperature.
“We are going to need firewood,” she said. “And plenty of it.”
Joseph nodded and led her around to the back of the building to a wood store filled with a tangled mound of logs. It looked like it had been there for some time—probably since Niall’s mother’s time—and so the wood was well-seasoned and dry.
Together she and Joseph began taking them inside and placing them in the fire pit beneath the kiln. As they worked, Charlie found herself explaining how to stack the logs in an efficient way to maximize heat output. “The trick is to leave enough space for the air to circulate,” she explained as he neatly arranged the logs in a crisscross pattern. “That way, it burns hotter and longer.”
As the pile of logs grew higher, Charlie could almost feel the heat of future fires that would blaze within the old kiln. She could almost see the pots and vases, their raw clay forms hardened and transformed by the flames into beautiful pieces of pottery. It was a vision that warmed her heart despite the chill in the air.
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Ye seem to know yer way around a kiln, lass,” he observed.
“I studied ceramics at university. I have an online business at home selling my own crockery.” She snapped her mouth shut abruptly as she realized what she’d just said. Damn it! She had to remember where she was. If she wasn’t careful, she would give herself away. She spoke quickly to stop Joseph asking any questions.
“Certain woods burn hotter than others,” she said.” Oak for instance, burns slow and steady. It’s good for maintaining the heat once the kiln is up to temperature.” She knew she was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “But for starting the fire,” she continued, picking up a smaller piece of wood, “you’ll want something like this—pine or birch. They burn hot and fast.”
Joseph nodded, studying her with a curious gaze. Clearly, he had not missed her slip just now, despite her attempts to distract him. “Do noblewomen in Wales often run their own ‘online businesses’.”
There was more than curiosity in his voice now, there was suspicion as well. She must not forget that despite his down-to-earth, friendly demeanor, Joseph was Niall’s right-hand man and involved in whatever it was that Niall was up to in Edinburgh. She had to tread carefully.
“Ah,” she began, her voice steady, “my aunt and uncle are quite modern. They believe a woman should have an education and a trade of her own. My uncle always says that there’s no telling what life throws at you. It’s best to be prepared.” She smiled at Joseph, hoping the answer would satisfy his curiosity.
Joseph studied her. “Yer uncle is yer guardian?”
Guardian? Hardly! She was twenty-six! But this clearly wasn’t what Joseph needed to hear. “Um...my guardian? Yes, that’s right.”
The old man nodded slowly. “Well, it sounds like yer uncle is a wise man,” he said eventually.
Charlie felt a pang of homesickness at his words but nodded in agreement. “He certainly likes to think so,” she joked lightly, brushing some stray hair out of her face and leaving behind a streak of dirt.
