“Well, before we dance, we have to eat. The venison smells wonderful,” Greer said as she lifted the dome off the platter in the middle of the table. “Niall, will ye do the carving?”
“’Tis my job,” Simon stood before Niall could reply and picked up the knife.
Charlotte was grateful the attention turned to food instead of a continuation of Fiona’s flirtation. Niall had not seemed to notice the chair shift… or maybe he didn’t mind. Charlotte pushed the thought away. She’d already spent too much time thinking and worrying, these past few days. If she’d been in the twenty-first century, she might merely haveaskedNiall what his future plans were. Then again, maybe not. It would have sounded like an ultimatum of sorts, and those usually turned out badly. Besides which, there was a certain amount of decorum she had to follow in this time period, even though Vi would have had conniptions and fits about unequal rights. Women’s Lib wasn’t going to happen here. However, she had employed a plotting device and made subtle inquiries about Fiona to Niall, each one geared to learning more about their past. His answers had been noncommittal, much like the one he’d just given. Men could be exceedingly frustrating at times.
“This does look good,” Niall said as he passed a plate with several slices of meat to Fiona.
She didn’t take it. Instead, she smiled at him. “Would ye mind filling the rest of it for me? ’Tis nae polite for me to reach.”
Charlotte felt her appetite disappear as she watched Niall silently add mashed turnips, cooked carrots, and a thick slice of bread pudding to Fiona’s plate and then set it down in front of her. He didn’t seem tomind,but then, did he have a choice? Even though there were just the six of them at the table, he and Simon were still the hosts.
Keir quickly followed suit by asking Charlotte if he could fill her plate, and after a somewhat surprised look, Simon did the same for Greer. Charlotte just hoped she’d be able to keep a few bites down.
As dinner proceeded, she watched the interactions covertly. Fiona, it seemed, was a master player. The term normally referred to men—at least in her century—but many of the characteristics applied in this situation. Tonight, the girl was all smiles, reacting demurely to Niall’s general comments and managing to brush her hand or arm against his every time one of them moved. Charlotte wouldn’t have been too surprised if she’d asked Niall to cut her meat and feed her since she seemed to be practically helpless. Charlotte started to snort, but managed to turn it into a cough.
“Are ye all right?” Greer asked.
She nodded, feeling Niall’s eyes on her and tried not to choke. “Something just went down the wrong way.”
“Mayhap a sip of wine will help?” Keir handed her the goblet, his hand closing around hers to make sure she didn’t spill it.
“Thank you.” She took the cup and swallowed, forcing her throat to relax and returned to pretending to enjoy her meal. Conversation buzzed again around her, but she paid scant attention.
Fiona was anything but helpless. Nor was she in any way feeble-minded. She was playing a game this evening and Charlotte was pretty sure every move was calculated, much like every move in a chess game was, to get what she wanted.
She recalled quite clearly the warning Fiona had given her the day they’d gone to lunch:Niall Fraser is mine.
The message was clear then and it was clear now. The question was, did Niall know?
****
Niall didn’t much like watching Keir offer Charlotte her wine goblet as she coughed. He didn’t miss that his friend’s fingers lingered over hers a mite too long, either. He furrowed his brows. It had been bad enough that Keir filled her plate, but there wasn’t much he could do about that, given that Fiona started it by asking him to do the same for her. As host, he could hardly refuse, although he wondered why she asked. The food was all in the center of the table.
Fiona certainly was acting strangely tonight. He avoided glancing at her because each time he did, she smiled brightly and asked him some inane question. That wasn’t like her either. Keir’s sister was not one to blether on about nothing. She usually had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid to voice them. Tonight, though, she was agreeing with everything he said. A poke in his side interrupted his thoughts. He turned to Simon.
“What?”
His brother leaned closer and whispered. “Ye look like a thunderstorm about to roll in.”
“I do nae…” He let his voice trail off as he realized he was frowning. Relaxing his brow, he gave Simon a tight smile. “It this better?”
“Och, aye. Now ye look like a snarling dog.”
He straightened his mouth. “Fine.”
Simon leaned back and gave him a curious look. “We are celebrating a victory, in case ye’ve forgotten.”
“I’ve nae forgotten.”
“’Tis talk of taking Fort Augustus next.”
Niall was glad he’d already schooled his features and therefore managed not to show any emotion. The hair rising at his nape was another matter. It seemed another of Charlotte’s predictions was going to come true. He glanced at her. Had she heard?
She had. She raised one eyebrow subtly as she met his gaze. He held the look until his brother cleared his throat and he realized what he was doing. Simon glanced from Charlotte to him and Niall knew he was trying to analyze the situation. He would have to be careful he gave nothing more away.
Fiona touched his arm. “The music is starting. Ye promised me the first dance.”
He had done nothing of the sort. He’d intended to ask Charlotte. However, it might be best to acquiesce to throw his brother off the trail.
