Once the wood was stacked just so, they moved on to unpacking the bags of clay that had been stacked outside.
“Where did the clay come from?” she asked.
“The river,” Joseph answered. “We’ve been getting clay from its banks for years.”
“I didn’t know there was a river on Niall’s lands.”
Joseph glanced at her and there was a wary expression on his face. “Technically, it isnae. It forms the southern border of his lands.”
“A border with whose lands?”
He glanced at her, before hauling a bag of clay onto the shelf. “His brother’s.”
Charlie carried on working, mulling this over. Yesterday, Niall had been reluctant to talk about his brother. It seemed Joseph was too. She clearly wasn’t the only one reluctant to reveal her past.
“His older brother?” she asked, trying to make her tone light.
Joseph blinked at her in surprise. “He told ye about Bryce?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “He just showed me where his lands border his brother’s to the north. It looks like pretty wild country up there.”
“Aye,” Joseph said softly. “And vast. The earl of Newborough is one of the largest landowners in the area.”
“Earl?” Charlie echoed, dropping the bag of clay she had been holding. Dust rose from the floor and tickled her nostrils. She fought back a sneeze as she tried to digest this new information. “Niall’s brother is an earl? He never mentioned that.”
She guessed Niall came from a well-off family, but an earldom was something else entirely.
Joseph shrugged. “Aye, well, he’s not one for titles and all that nonsense. What he has is only a sliver of what his inheritance should have been and only then because he fought tooth and nail for it.”
Charlie was surprised by the anger in Joseph’s words. “What happened?”
Joseph paused, his gaze distant. “It’s a long story,” he said finally. “One better saved for another time.”
The dismissal was clear in his tone.
Charlie was silent for a moment, then turned her attention back to the clay, using a knife to slice open the bags. The clay was cool and damp beneath her fingers and she found comfort in its familiar texture.
Niall’s brother was an earl. Niall was one of five. A man who had fought for his inheritance. These were pieces of a puzzle that were slowly starting to form a picture of a man who was far more complex than she had originally thought.
“Right,” said Joseph, brushing his hands on his apron. “That’s the lot. Do ye need me for anything else?”
Charlie shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine from here. I’m just going to store the clay then fire up the kiln. Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
Joseph nodded. “Make sure ye dinna miss the midday meal or ye’ll have Flora stomping up here in a temper.”
Charlie laughed. “Duly noted.”
Joseph nodded and left, taking the two workmen with him. Charlie was left alone in the workshop. She sighed and dug her fingers into the soft clay, her thoughts far away.
Her fingers probed through the soft, wet material, feeling for any hard objects. Every now and then, she found a small pebble or twig which she would toss aside. The process was unexpectedly calming, almost meditative. For the first time since she’d come here, no thoughts filled her head beyond the moment. It was...liberating.
Next she lit the kiln, then turned her attention to the potter’s wheel. She carefully centered a small lump of clay on the wheel head, sitting on the low bench and kicking the treadle lightly. The wheel spun, slowly at first, then faster as she got into rhythm. Her hands cupped around the clay, steadying it as it spun. The clay felt cool and firm under her hands, but reassuringly familiar.
It was basic pottery—nothing like the intricate pieces she sold in artisan markets—but it washercreation. And proof that she was capable ofsomethingin this strange new world.
There was a knock at the door. Charlie looked up. The sun slanting in through the window was low and turning red with sunset.
She jumped up. Damn it! She’d been here all day and missed the midday meal after promising Joseph she wouldn’t. Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried to the door, expecting an annoyed Flora to be standing on the other side.
