Chapter 16
Charlie stretched herarms and turned her head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in her neck and the ache in her shoulders as she walked up to the pottery workshop. It didn’t work. Days spent hauling clay and molding bricks meant she probably wasn’t the only one paying the price with sore muscles.
The little pottery that Niall had first showed her was unrecognizable. With Knox’s help, it had been extended and enlarged, with a yard outside for cooling and storing supplies, and production line inside, producing a near-constant supply of building materials for the new cottages that were going up.
It was her little empire and she was ridiculously proud of it.
Charlie pushed open the workshop door, the familiar scent of clay and warm earth wrapping around her like a comforting cloak. Inside, the glow of the kiln cast flickering shadows across the walls. Samuel was already there, crouched near the kiln’s opening, carefully monitoring the temperature with the focus of a seasoned potter, despite his youth.
She smiled. “You’re getting good at this, Samuel.”
He startled slightly at her voice but quickly recovered, nodding. “Oh, good morning, Lady Charlotte. I wanted to make sure the fire kept steady.”
Charlie glanced around. “Where’s Albie? It’s not like him to be late.”
Samuel hesitated—just for a moment—but Charlie caught it. His fingers tightened slightly around the wooden paddle he was holding. “He’s... unwell.”
A prickle of concern ran through her. “Unwell how?”
Samuel kept his eyes fixed on the kiln. “Just... not feeling right today. He needed rest.”
Charlie frowned. Albie had been full of energy yesterday, grinning from ear to ear when they’d finished their latest batch of bricks. He didn’t strike her as the type to bow out over a sniffle.
“Has a healer seen him?” she pressed.
Samuel shook his head quickly. “No need.”
Charlie folded her arms. “Samuel. If he’s sick, someone should be looking after him. I’d better go see him, make sure he’s okay.”
Samuel straightened abruptly. “No!”
Charlie blinked at the force of his reaction. “No? Why not?”
He swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the paddle like it was the only thing keeping him steady. “I mean—there’s no need, my lady. He’s just resting. He’ll be fine soon enough.”
Now Charlie was certain something was off. She narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “Samuel, I’m going to ask you again—what’s wrong with Albie?”
His shoulders stiffened, and for a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose and muttered, “It’s not my place to say.”
Charlie’s pulse quickened. “But somethingiswrong?”
Samuel didn’t deny it this time.
That was enough for her. “Then I’m going to see him.”
