“There are abandoned crofter’s cottages around, as well as shepherd sheds. He’ll find cover.” Greer studied her. “Do ye care for him, then?”
“No! I mean…well, yes, of course, I care.” Dear Lord, she was making a mess of this. “I mean…I don’t him to freeze to death out there.”
Greer scrutinized her a moment longer. “He’ll be safe.” She said it quietly and pointed to the board. “’Tis your turn to move.”
Was it her move? She wasn’t thinking about chess. She was wondering what she should do next to convince Niall that she spoke true. Looking at Greer, Charlotte wasn’t sure that Greer accepted her explanation, but at least she wasn’t going to pursue an interrogation. She looked at the board and moved a knight to block the previous move. It was slightly ironic since “knight” might have been a fitting description of Niall if they’d been in the Middle Ages. She quickly dismissed that fantasy.
It wouldn’t do to let anyone think she was interested in him. That was a sure way to lose her job and get boosted out of Castle Dounie at the same time. And then what would she do? Where would she go?
Much better to keep her feelings to herself, even though she suspected she was falling in love with him.
Better he didn’t know that either.
****
“Rub him down well and give him a hot mash,” Niall told the stable boy as he turned his horse over along with a coin for the lad.
“Aye, sir! Thank ye!” The boy pocketed the shilling more quickly than a sleight-of-hand performer at a local fair. Niall managed to hide a laugh, knowing his horse would be well looked after.
“I’ll come see to him in the morning, then.”
“Aye, sir!” the boy said again. “I’ll take special care of him.”
Niall made his way to a nearby inn. They’d been only a few miles away from Dingwall when the storm hit. He’d considered continuing on but decided against it. January storms could be brutal, especially when they sprang up as suddenly as this one had. Better to wait for it to blow over.
But that meant it would be another day or two—or possibly more, depending on when the storm would pass—before he got home. He didn’t like leaving Charlotte to fend for herself that long, knowing both Simon and his father still had doubts about her. His father’s questioning methods could be subtle when he chose, and Charlotte might easily get tangled in her own words. Athirdversion of how she got to Inverness—especially claiming she was from the future—would end his father’s tolerance. He’d most likely turn her over to one of the generals for real interrogation. That wouldn’t even be the worst of it. With the Redcoats amassing in Edinburgh, both Murray and Drummond would be focused on blocking them. They wouldn’t be paying much attention to a lone woman prisoner who would be at the mercy of guards who weren’t even trained soldiers.
Niall hoped he could count on Greer, even though he wasn’t sure his sister totally believed Charlotte either, but she had offered to stay close to her while he was gone.
He would have preferred to bring Charlotte with him. It would have given him a chance to question her about what else the “history books” had said about this war. Maybe she could tell him when to expect the reinforcement of French troops… He stopped himself. Did he really think she knew the future? Or was he driving himself to madness? He shook his head. In any case, propriety prevented him from even suggesting that she accompany him.
“Ye are a lucky man,” the innkeeper told him when he inquired about a room. “We’ve got just one left.”
“I guess a lot of travelers decided nae to take a chance out there.”
“On a night like this, ’twould be madness to venture out.”
And yet Niall had almost done that. Even now he was questioning whether he should be leaving Charlotte at the mercy of his father. Perhaps he was descending into a madness all his own that had nothing to do with the storm.
“It’s a good thing ye’ve got a room left, then.”
“Aye. ’Twas another gent in here earlier. He said he’d be back, but since he’s nae here now…” The innkeeper looked at him expectantly.
Niall repressed a sigh. What the man was saying was that it was going to cost him more. Instead of bartering—he wasn’t in the mood—he simply pulled out more than enough coin. “Will this do?”
“Aye.” The man snatched the money almost as quickly as the stable boy had, but this time Niall didn’t feel like laughing. “Which way to the room?”
“Down the hall. Last on the left.”
Niall half-expected the room to be shabby and cold, but he was pleasantly surprised to find a small fire burning in the brazier and an oil lamp on the nearby table. Lighting the lamp, he looked around. The wallpaper wasn’t peeling, the upholstery on the armchair near the brazier wasn’t worn, and the bed had a clean quilt neatly tucked in. At least the money he’d spent was worth it.
He eyed the bed again. It looked comfortable and was large enough for two. His thoughts turned to Charlotte once more and visualized the two of them tucked under that quilt together, limbs entangled, basking in the afterglow of—Enough. There was no sense in torturing himself.
But he had a hard time falling asleep that night, and images of a naked Charlotte filled his dreams when he did.
****
Niall looked around the table as he entered the small room off the kitchens where the family sometimes broke their fast when their presence was not needed in the Great Hall. He’d gotten home late last night after having to wait out the blizzard for three days, and he hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone.
